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#and this bit of unknown where it was like I knew I liked him but I didn’t know like. a lot about him yet
gucciwins · 3 days
Text
harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned
word count: 5896
a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜
+
Y/N was nervous. 
She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 
Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 
As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 
“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 
It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 
“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 
“I said it’s okay.” 
Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 
It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 
Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.
“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“Course. Guard it with my life.” 
Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 
“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 
The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 
Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 
“How do I know you?” 
The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 
“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”
Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”
The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 
That’s odd, Y/N thought. 
“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 
“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 
Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 
Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 
“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 
She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 
“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 
“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 
Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 
Harry S. 
It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 
Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 
Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 
“Oh.” 
Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 
“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.
“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 
“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 
“I’d like to see where it could go.” 
“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”
Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 
“Good. Thursday it is.”
Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 
Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.
Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 
“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.
Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 
Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 
Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 
“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 
In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 
Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 
“Anne,” Y/N repeated.
“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 
Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 
Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
+
Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  
“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 
Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 
“Your face didn’t change.”
Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 
Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 
Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”
“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.
Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 
“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 
Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 
“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.
Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 
Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 
“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 
Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 
Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 
She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”
Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”
“It’s clear she’s after something.” 
He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”
“Your money.” 
“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 
“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 
“How would you know?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 
“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”
“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”
Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 
“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.
“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 
He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 
Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 
“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 
Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”
Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.
She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 
Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 
Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”
Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 
“It’s only my sister,” he defends.
“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 
Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”
“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 
“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 
“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”
Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”
Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 
Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.
“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 
He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 
Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“But Gemma–”
He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”
Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 
“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”
Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.
“I love you, Harry.” 
He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 
Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.
+
The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 
There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 
“My daughter owes you an apology.” 
“Anne–” 
She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 
Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 
Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 
Harry greeted her with a kiss.
Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 
Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 
Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 
“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 
“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 
Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 
“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.
“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 
Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 
“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 
“And did it?” 
“Mmm…like magic.” 
“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 
“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 
Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“But she’s your–”
“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”
Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 
Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.
+
thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts
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a-fantastic-time · 3 days
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As anxious as Weiss felt, she had to admit she was surprised she hadn’t thought of doing this sooner. Taking her father’s good name and dragging it through the mud in a tell-all interview—not only would something like that destroy any chances of him running for office (a position she knew he’d been eyeing for some time), but it might even draw enough scrutiny to him and his actions within her family to get him out of the picture once and for all!
Still, it was a bit surprising getting the request to meet in a nightclub like this one—she had been batting off drunk and high partiers all night, and waving off as much attention as she could. Thankfully, she had an open tab courtesy of her unknown interviewer to drink as she wished, and she did just that. Anything to make the atmosphere just a bit more tolerable, and help steady her nerves for the important meeting to come.
Not knowing the real reason this little ‘interview’ had been arranged.
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@asexxxualerotica
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The music of the night club rang loudly as people danced and enjoyed cheap drinks and barely passible food. Her contact had been a bit late, but would finally reveal herself with a tap on her shoulder. A tall red headed woman smiled down at her, one hand on her hip, while the other shook a scroll with the text conversation they had open. "Glad you could make it. I was half expecting you to stand me up." Dark horns rode up at the top of her head of the faunus woman, while her pale skin rivaled the ice princess herself. Even her midnight black dress with red trip seem to be the exact opposite of hers.
Although one particular difference stood out between the two, and that was the taller woman's massive chest that was barely contained by her already revealing top. Showing no shame or even bothering to take notice of the many stares she was getting as each step caused them to jiggle heavily. "Why don't we take this some where a bit more private." She said reaching into her cleavage and pulling out several lien and placing them onto the bar. Which the bartender nodded and gestured over to one of the VIP rooms, handing Eve a key.
She quickly took Weiss's hand and lead her to the assigned room. Which the moment the door closed, all the noise became a small muffled hum. "There, much better place for an interview don't you think?"
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mrs-kelly · 1 year
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Love scrolling back in my camera roll to the night when I realized what I felt about Charlie was more than a crush ahdjfl there’s not like a huge amount of pics or anything but there are three pictures I downloaded as possible phone backgrounds and when I look at them I remember exactly how that moment felt ❤️
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confessedlyfannish · 7 months
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DP x DC Prompt #4
When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.
"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.
"Report!"
"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.
The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.
"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.
"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.
"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."
Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.
"Nightwing, report."
"..."
"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."
"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"
"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."
Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"
"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."
Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."
"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"
The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.
"No, I'm not---"
"--don't need--"
"get AWAY from--"
a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"
and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."
And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."
And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."
The audio cuts off.
The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.
"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.
"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.
"B?" Barbara asks.
"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."
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radio-writes · 2 months
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Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?
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Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)
Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.
The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.
Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)
Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat
MDNI
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Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.
Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears. 
As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.
You had to get away.
You couldn't get away.
You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.
You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.
You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."
You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.
Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.
That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg. 
He was laughing.
He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.
You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.
Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.
Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.
Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.
At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.
You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.
"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck. 
But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.
While you were scared, desperate to get away.
He was terrified, desperate to get you back.
The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.
Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.
"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.
You felt him step closer.
"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.
You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.
The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid? 
Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that. 
This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.
His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.
Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.
But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.
As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.
It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.
But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.
"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak.
The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.
"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.
When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face. 
You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh. 
But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek. 
"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber. 
"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed. 
"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.
The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.
Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.
"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.
The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.
You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.
You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.
He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you. 
"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.
You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."
"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.
You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.
You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.
Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.
Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."
You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.
You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.
Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.
"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."
You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.
A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.
"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.
You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured. 
"Alastor, wait—"
"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special." 
"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.
One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze. 
"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.
"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.
You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.
But you know how this ends.
You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.
You, of all people, knew that well.
Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.
"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.
You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along. 
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.
Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.
His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.
His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.
He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.
The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.
The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.
Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.
You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.
"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.
You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.
Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.
It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.
"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.
You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script. 
He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention. 
"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.
The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull. 
"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"
He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.
It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.
"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"
His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did. 
He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.
"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.
You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.
When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.
"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery. 
"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."
Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.
He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to." 
His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.
His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.
"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.
You can't. But you nod your head anyway.
He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry. 
Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."
But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.
He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.
He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.
One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.
Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.
He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.
Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him. 
You can't leave him.
You know that now.
Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.
"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.
You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.
Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.
You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt. 
"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.
"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.
You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.
"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.
"No," You responded again.
"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.
"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth
You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.
But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.
"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.
"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now." 
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I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪
1K notes · View notes
wakebymoonsleepbysun · 3 months
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Dogday!! Trying to figure out a way to send a Y/N in there to help him.
Rambles under the cut.
(I drew my sona in these cuz self-indulgent, but if I ever write anything it'll be a reader insert with little to no canon design.)
Design notes: Took some elements from his game model as well as his cartoon design. I think when we see him, he is emaciated and/or stretched out, the way CatNap is said to be able to stretch. Don't know if that's an ability all Smiling Critters have though. For now I'm saying it is SOMEWHAT but CatNap is the better at it by MILES. In any case, that's why he's not quite as lanky as he is in game, and is also a bit shorter.
I also he can be bipedal or quadrupedal, much like CatNap seems to be able to switch back and forth. A bit more animalistic than his cartoon counterpart, but part of that is just him not wanting to tower over the children and employees all the time, so drops down to all fours quite a bit.
The fur texture on his ears in the game cave him a floofy cocker spaniel look so I went with that instead of the less floofy ears he has in the cartoon and his original plushie.
The white pupils being absent when we see him I believe is a sign of how weak he is. When healthy, all the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters have them, much like CatNap does.
Trying to actually keep his huge open-mouth smile at all times, unlike with my FNAF stuff where I give them more of an ability to emote. That said trying to get him to look angry or sad was a challenge. Sad I think worked okay but the one where I meant him to look angry he looks more cocky or smirky than mad. Tender moments are a bit harder too, as keeping that huge grin with more tender eyes results in him looking either drunk or horney or just like he's not taking the moment very seriously, haha.
And the story? Not sure yet, bouncing around a few ideas, though I don't think I'll have the reader and the player be the same person. Reader might be someone who came up in PlayCare alongside Dogday. Perhaps they knew each other as kids when Dogday was still human. Haven't decided how much of this Dogday remembers or at what point the reader realizes Dogday is their old friend who got "adopted".
Reader grows up the Playcare and is given a job once they're an adult. (Something something starting the brainwashing and normalization of bullshit early to make employees who are more willing to look the other way?)
Dogday somehow kept them hidden during the Hour of Joy and the reader's been living in the caves ever since. (The caves open up so much possibility for people being hidden in the factory. Much easier to say there's an unknown offshoot of a natural cave system than an unknown part of the factory.)
How are they staying fed? Uhhhh...cave mushrooms? Trips to the surface? Moss? Stale vending machine candy? I don't know yet.
Not sure how to pull a happy ending out of this horror but I'm trying. Maybe the reader convinces Dogday to leave after Ch 3 because he'd be too weak to help anyway or something? And uh...I'm just gonna pretend since he's kinda a plushie he can be sewn back together even though I'm PRETTY SURE canonically the inclusion of blood and guts makes that...not a thing.
Just remember guys...all winds blow away...eventually.
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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Hiiii I love your writing so much!!! Can I request an imagine where Lando is streaming and the reader says something and lando is like “when I marry you” and the reader is like WHEN? And lando is all like in love and the stream goes wild. Then she leaves the room and lando is like “I can’t wait to marry her “ or smth…. Thank uuuuuu
When? (LN4)
Summary: Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.
Warnings: none
Sitting in a swiveling chair beside him, Y/n peaks over Lando’s shoulder, watching as his car on the video game spins out of control before crashing into the barriers.
“Shit!” Lando screams, his body flying forward from his chair to hunch over.
Y/n giggles in the background as the chat berates Lando for his poor sim skills whilst also being a Formula 1 driver, “You’d think you’d be so good at this game?”
Lando shoots her a look over his shoulder, a warning glance, before he shakes his head with a snicker, “You try it, then.”
Y/n shakes her head, “Nah, I’m good. Leave it the professionals.”
Lando nods with a tsk, finding her presence and her words funny nonetheless. There’s a ringing on her phone that shakes them from their moment, Y/n picking it up and noting the unknown number.
“Hello?”
Murmuring sounds from the other side of the phone before realization flows through Y/n and she nods as she speaks, “Yes, sorry. I will ask my boyfriend for that right now. I’m not sure what the exact code is.”
The word code makes Lando mute his microphone, knowing if people found his apartment with the knowledge of the code to get in, all hell would break loose.
“Who is it?” He asks her.
“The delivery guy. What’s the code to get into the building?” Y/n replies, her free hand landing on his bicep as he turns around to fully face her.
Lando’s body warms at her touch, “2576.”
She nods and he unmutes the microphone, the couple going back to their old ways.
“You know, you could just make it easier for me and write the code on a piece of paper for me. Or at least let me write it in my Notes app. I always forget it.” She chuckles, noting the way the delivery man texts her he’s making his way up the stairs, gaining closer to the apartment.
Lando mindlessly laughs, “I don’t want it to get leaked or for you to lose the paper. Maybe when I marry you, I don’t know.”
The chat erupts as silence ensues behind him. Lando sneaks a glance at Y/n behind him, the girl jaw dropped, “When?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, when. What about it? You think I don’t want to marry you? You think I don’t already have it all planned out in my head?”
Y/n shakes her head, disbelief bleeding from her being, “Well, what a nice surprise!”
She giggles, still a bit taken aback, before leaning forward and planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek. One which he grimaces at and wipes away, although his heart beats faster in his chest at the gesture.
She smiles down at him as she stands up, mumbling about the food being there, as she lays another kiss yet this time meeting his lips. She stares at him a bit more before leaving the room, the two being lovesick in the way their eyes shimmered.
Lando, let alone for the moment, read through the chat and laughed at their words, “What do you mean ‘I’m crying, that’s so cute’ I thought people knew how serious I was about her?!”
Max laughs from the other end of the call, “Yeah, what? Lando has been talking about marrying Y/n since he first met her.”
More messages flood through and Lando can only smile blissfully, “Well, you heard it here first, folks. I can’t wait to marry that woman.”
At this point, the chat is triggered into a frenzy and Y/n looks bewildered when she comes back with the food, slightly overwhelmed at the volume of words infiltrating the screen.
“Jesus Christ, did Lando moan again?” She jokes, though by the way Lando doesn’t answer she actually worries for a moment.
He’s quick to reassure her though, “No, just informing the chat on how in love I am with you because apparently they didn’t know.”
Blush rises to her cheeks and Lando pulls her down onto his lap, the two digging into the two bowls balancing in her lap. There’s a chowing session between the two, their hunger taking over, as they continue to converse with the chat and Max.
Truly funny, though, the way the conversation steered into the topic of Lando and Y/n getting married as the engagement ring rest in the depths of his sock drawer, begging to be taken out and displayed on the finger of his favorite girl.
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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DC x DP: Dog Walker
Danny needs someone to walk his dog.
He had been in Gotham for about five months when it became apparent he needed companionship.
Ever since Clockwork and Frostbite came to the same decision to move Danny to a new universe for his health- his core was deteriorating due to his obsession being fulfilled as Amity Park was safe, and everyone was ready to grow up and move on.
So Danny moved to a rough city in a harsh universe so that the danger could help his core restart his obsession.
The first few weeks were fine; he even found work as a computer program designer that allowed him to work from home thanks to his universe's advanced technology, but soon, he struggled with loneliness and homesickness—that was where his dog came into the picture.
He adopted Equinox- Nox for short- from the local shelter, and while Nox was a mutt with unknown parents, Danny had no trouble taking care of him.
That was until he accepted a job offer at Wayne Enterprise, and his work hours shifted from remote work seven days a week to four days. He wasn't stimulating Equinox properly by keeping him inside the three days he was out and his poor boy was suffering from it.
This could have easily be solved with a pet sitter or just a dog walker but this is Gotham. Danny knows he picked this place for its constant danger to keep his obsession active but he just wasn't expecting Gotham to be so...much.
He had a panic attack just thinking about what would happened to Nox if he trusted just anyone to take care of him.
Nox is the only living being that is under his Protection. It went against his very Instincts to not find someone he trusted utterly to walk him.
Danny checks his phone to see Nox peaceful sleeping in his doggy bed and sighs. His boy has been sleeping more and more lately, losing his bright spark.
"Whats wrong Danny?" Karla, one of the Office interns, asks from where she is walking along side him.
"Nothing, it's just my dog needs to go for a walk, and I'm not there to give him one." He says, turning the screen. "I wish I can have some one walk hin for me-"
"Understood. I shall pick up your dog tomorrow, Fenton," a tiny voice cuts in. The two turn around only to look down at the green eyes of Damian Wayne. His bosses' son and brother. Oh boy.
"Ugh, I'm sorry?" He blinks as the youngest, Wayne thrusts a piece of paper at him. Danny has no choice but to hesitantly takes the paper. On it is a professional if short resume belonging to Damian that highlights his skillset and community service.
"Father has informed me of the family tradition started by our Pennyworth. Every Wayne gets a part-time job from twelve to grow character." The boy says, hands behind him and back straight, appearing every bit his status. Also, it is like a little kid trying to appear as an adult. Danny found it kind of cute, and it reminded him of Jazz. "I have multiple experiences with animals, as you can see from volunteering at the local shelters. My fees for my services are also meager and would surely not be difficult to cover."
Danny's core turned cold, but not in the wrong way. It was a cooling sensation he had associated with a fun day of either a snowball fight or the fresh first fall. He knew he could trust the boy.
"You know what? Yeah I love it if you walked my dog. In fact would you be interested in being a dog sitter?"
The boy's green eyes brightened with childish glee, but he tried to remain serious. Danny's heart melted at the sight. Oh, he should call Jazz soon. "That would be most acceptable."
Unknown to Danny, Karla, or Damian, Dick Grayson watched the trio as his brother handed one of the most mysterious employees a resume. Now, why would Fenton want to be close to Damian?
Over the last few months, people have been trying to take advantage of Damian because they thought his brother stupid for his mixed blood, just as they did when Bruce first took him in.
Danny doesn't mind Alfred's rule to find a part-time job to help teach them values, but he finds people aren't as kind as they should be. He'll have to keep an eye on this Danny Fenton.
Maybe he can help co-sit his dog.
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aft3rhrs · 5 months
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— number: unknown ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: strangers to lovers
warnings: dead dove, yandere, manipulation, corruption, mentions of stalking, mentions of therapy, dirty talk, humiliation, obsession, mentions of masturbation & dub con sex, allusions to cnc, allusions to depression and anxiety, hints of fear kink, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut).
*use of the word “rape”.
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In the last few months, you've grown used to the sound of your phone ringing late at night. It still sent your heart into a frenzy, nerves sparking up like wires — but you peeked at the screen nonetheless, taking less and less time to hesitate to answer.
Number: Unknown.
Palms sweaty, you clicked accept on the call.
A chuckle greeted you.
"Lonely?"
You tried to ignore the chill his voice sent rippling down your spine, raising goosebumps along the way.
"What do you want?"
"Don't be like that," Jungkook cooed. "I missed you. Wanted to check in. What's up? How was therapy last week?"
The question came with a tint of mockery, instantly dusting your cheeks. It wasn't surprising by now that he knew; he knew everything about you, it seemed, from soul to entrails. But you couldn't wrap your head around how, or why he even paid such close attention in the first place. All you were capable of comprehending clearly was the anger blazing in your chest.
"Screw you."
"Aw, come on," he crooned on the line. "I'm just checking up on my favorite girl. Any progress? Did you tell your therapist you let your stalker fuck you right after filing a report? Did you tell him you pick up my calls?"
You felt his words swirl and burn in your stomach, as if you downed a glass of liquor. Shame crawled all over your skin, hot and uncomfortable. Why couldn't you find it in yourself to hang up? For a moment, you considered doing just that, but then quickly brushed off the idea.
Better to entertain him like this than to have him show up at your door.
Right...?
He could hear you breathe in, the lack of an answer curving his lips upwards.
"Well, that's okay. I really don't like you seeing him, though. I'm kind of offended you went to someone else for help."
"You're the reason I need help!" You hissed, unable to stop yourself. "You're seriously sick in the head."
"What a mouthy little thing you are," Jungkook murmured. "Pretty brave for someone who claimed she's afraid of me." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Pretty hypocritical too... I might be crazy, but you're the one still talking to me. Didn't you come all over my cock like a good little girl too? I think you might be a bit sick yourself, sweetheart."
Oh god.
No.
You pretended you didn't feel yourself clench around thin air, pretended your underwear wasn't getting drenched.
"But I don't mind," he continued, raspy, "I can be your therapist, baby. I'll help you feel better."
Your eyes fluttered closed, head growing foggy.
"Why keep running? Why keep running if you always let me catch up?"
"I don't," you whispered, "I'm trying to—"
"No," Jungkook tsked, "you're not. Are you too scared to face yourself in the mirror? Do you see my eyes when you try?"
You shivered for some reason.
"No."
"That's a lie... You like it when I chase you, and no therapy is ever going to help you. You know why?" He coaxed, soft. "Do you know where your sickness lies, angel...? It's not in your head. It's in your heart. You dont trust love, you don't feel it, unless it's got you losing breath, nice and tight, like a noose. Why don't you let me give it to you?"
Despite the pounding of your heart, you tried to keep his words out of your mind, tried to focus before you disappeared so deep into the fog, you'd become a part of it. But you were so tired... and floating in the dark, weightless, felt a little more like peace.
Still, swallowing thickly, you tried.
"Do you get off on taunting all your victims like some kind of psycho?"
"Oh baby," he sighed. "How many times do I gotta tell you? You're the only girl I want. No need to get jealous."
"Go fuck yourself—"
Another chuckle, then a groan.
"I should. I really want to... Miss you so much..."
Your stomach flipped.
"Miss your mouth. Didn't have time to fuck it back then... Would you let me now?"
"No," you breathed out, shaky.
Why were you still talking to him? Why were your thighs squeezed shut so hard?
"Mmm, that's what you said last time, and yet look who ended up begging me to fill that little cunt."
Your hand tightened around your phone, the pulsing in between your legs refusing to cease and getting harder to ignore.
"I know you could take it all," he breathed. "All down your pretty throat, no complaints. Would be too busy sucking, right, baby?"
"Why even bother asking?" you whispered, your voice small, like you knew the answer already.
Because you did.
"Makes me hard," Jungkook admitted, shameless. "It's cute to see you struggle. Acting like a frightened little doe, like you weren't waiting for a wolf to eat you up."
The confession was so dirty, nothing short of predatory; but it made your cunt throb and heat stick to your underwear, and you couldn't decide if you were more disturbed by him or by your own reactions.
"Fuck..." he swore hoarsely. "All that screaming and fighting only to end up begging for it. Do you like it forced? No need to think, no need to make choices. Just taking my cock like a good little rape toy, yeah?"
You weren't able to contain the hitch of your breath, thighs quivering and spine tingling all over.
Jungkook moaned softly in response, the sound shooting straight through your pussy.
"Wanna come?"
This wasn't happening.
You were losing grasp of reality, consumed by the need to find a lifeline. You felt like you caught a fever, your reply coming out more mellow than intended.
"No. Please stop."
"You're a bad liar, little doe. Without me your body and soul feel empty. You need me as much as I need you."
Your eyes fell shut. You shook your head, repeating your denial like a prayer.
"No..."
Your brain was running on automatic, trying to hold on to some semblance of rationality.
"Does it make you feel better to say that?" Jungkook muttered. "Wouldn't it be easier to give in? I know how much you wanna sneak your hand into your panties. Go on, baby. Rub all your thoughts away. It will feel so good."
You felt your thighs tremble again, the wetness between them unbearable. It was getting harder to breathe through the rising heat, your mouth falling open, trying to catch more oxygen into your lungs.
"Go on, pretty. I'll come with you... Just say the word."
Yes.
No, that wasn't right.
Please...
"No," you forced out again, something that sounded too much like a whimper. "I'm going. Stop calling me."
Jungkook just sighed.
"Shame. Can you at least move closer to the window? Do a little twirl for me. I missed you so much..."
Your head snapped in the direction of the window, heart jumping in alarm. Jungkook seemed to know; he sounded so amused, like it was all a game. And he was winning.
"Just kidding. I have some things to do, but I will see you soon, baby."
"Jungkook—" you panicked, shaking your head, "please don't—"
"Goodnight. I love you."
Beep.
He hung up.
You hugged your knees and lowered your head onto them, welcoming the darkness that greeted you, eclipsing the faint glow of your nightlight.
Was this your fault? You were in pieces for so long; surely that must have been to blame for the sickening pull you felt to answer the phone every time he called.
Maybe that was how Jungkook had managed to get to you. Slithered in through the cracks, took advantage of all the empty spaces. Poured himself in like poison, down to the last drop. Maybe that was also why he needed you so much; there was nothing left of him but you.
You let yourself slump onto the bed, probably the last time you'd be able to sleep through the night somewhat calmly. Because when Jungkook said soon... he always meant soon.
And the clock refused to stop ticking.
taglist 💌: @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @crisle19 @jksteponme @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @dolphinmochi
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 6 months
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Zombie!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Zombie!Ghost, Reader
Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you havent felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.
Word Count: 4.8 k
Warnings:
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Author's Note: here it is as requested. I hope I did it justice. Happy Halloween 🎃
You’d been on the run for months now, never stopping as hordes of the undead nipped away at any temporary calm would you seek to have. It wasn’t easy always having to look over your shoulder, wondering when you were going to get ambushed again or if you’d get overrun and you’d have to make your final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after over a year of living in hell you kind of get used to it… Kind of.
That first month was the hardest since you had been completely on your own because in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the everything fell apart, including the 141 you were stationed with, you’d gotten separated from everyone. Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then you came across someone you thought you’d never see again: Ghost.
He was holed up alone in an abandoned farmhouse back in the thick of the woods a town over from the base. What should have been a reunion with someone you knew was thrown off by the fact that he had in fact been turned into one of the undead. Out of everyone that you could have run into, why him? You two had history, the kind where intimate details were something that you shared, and now you were both thrust together once again only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if you’d get caught fooling around by the captain.
The strange thing was that even though Ghost had been fully transformed by the infection, it was not what you expected. You realized quickly that Ghost had kept most of his humanity, though the more finer details of his person were scrambled by the disease. Even though he could not speak anymore due to the fact that his jaw was broken, Ghost was still inside there. And the strangest part of it all was that he remembered you.
It wasn’t like anything you had seen from the horde of mindless undead and so instead of facing the unknown alone again, you decided to stick with him. For over a year you two stayed side by side and although you did not come across any others of the task force, it was enough to just have one another.
Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with you had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Ghost used them to their full capability to keep you safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, you two were not doing too bad. At least you were able to stay in place for more than a day now.
That’s where you found yourself, shacked up in a two story cottage you had found almost untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. It was easy enough to make secure, as secure as you could having limited supplies, but apart from a few stray corpses stumbling by there wasn’t much action. That anxiety riddled tension that you had held in your chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that you hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.
An old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who you used to share such things with, the one that leaves you begging to be quenched, wormed its way back into your life and now that you had more time on your hands it was becoming a major problem.
You see, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with your head: heightening your senses, making your pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. You were only human, one who still had needs which had not been met in so fucking long that you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having your blood always rushing and your skin tingling, how could you stop yourself from giving in to that most basic of temptations?
It was a shame that Ghost wasn’t an option now; you would liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there was no way no… right?
So, instead, one evening after the perimeter had been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reached its peak and you had to do something before it got in the way of staying safe. Sneaking off to the bedroom you had claimed for yourself upstairs, you allowed that overwhelming need to finally overtake you.
Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could still be alert to any stray sounds, you laid down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, your pulse racing rapidly in your chest at the prospect of doing this. You made quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that you could access that throbbing between your thighs. Clamping your mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet you slid your hand down the front of your pants, down all the way until you reached your sex. 
A whimper filled your mouth that you choked back down; the last thing you needed was to alert a horde with your desperate cries as you worked yourself. It may have been a while, but you knew exactly what to do and extending your middle finger you split yourself open to find your clit, another whimper rising in your throat as you made the connection and began to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.
It was hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure filled your mind and snaked its way through your limbs to make your body vibrate and as you stroked that pulsing bean you were brought back to those times when you and Ghost used to get lost in that ecstasy together. You couldn’t be blamed for where your mind wandered, not when you had to be near the one person who knew how to draw your pleasure from you, even if he couldn’t do it anymore.   
Before you knew it, you had flipped yourself onto your stomach and then onto knees to ride your fingers, hips grinding away as you imagined him underneath you. Fuck, the way he used to look staring back up at you with those hungry copper eyes, hands greedily clinging around the meat of your hips as he shoved you down harder onto his cock before he would inevitably flip you onto your back to pound into you; it was enough to make you salivate with need, but still you tried to keep quiet.
You thought yourself sneaky, keeping things to a minimum as you desperately drew out your release, but Ghost was not the same man he was when he was alive. His senses were different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection that took his life and made him into something entirely new. As he stood in the living room, staring blankly out the window to watch for any signs of undead, something caught his attention.
The scent of pheromones were on the air, enticing him forward to the upstairs. He followed it all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Ghost peered unblinking through the slit to watch you up on your knees on top of your bed, your pants hanging slack around your hips while your ass point upward towards the door. That motion, he knew it; that back and forth sway of your hips over top of your bed. 
There was another fragrance on the air now, something more familiar. Taking a deep breath, his heightened sense of smell caught the scent of your natural lubrication currently soaking your fingers and it awoke something deep within him like a fire in chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth began to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surfaced, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures. Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.  
It was then that he became acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctually he cupped his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm. Was he actually getting hard? That was surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore; he had retained much of his humanity, but he had not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what that entailed.
The more he rubbed the more it grew until the front of his pants tented out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he had to wonder if he could pop the closure without even trying. God, it felt…amazing.
“Fuck, Simon,” he caught the whispered hiss through the silence as you pressed your body down harder onto the bed, onto your fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The way you said that name he hadn’t heard in so long, in that desperate way almost as a plea to your lust to fulfill its unspoken promise and wash that euphoric feeling over you, caused memories to violently resurface. He had heard that before in just that exact way- from you.
Scattered and disjointed memories of you beneath him burst into his minds eye, brought back to life by the sound of your voice: you writhing with eyes closed, your skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as you came.
If breathing was something he was still required to do those lungs would be heaving by now to bring in enough air as he was so worked up that he would surely be panting. His hand gripped tighter now around the head of his cock, stroking with more purpose now as his dilated pupils followed the curve of your back all the down to your ass to watch it bob up and down.
The pace of his hand quickened to match your rocking as if fucking you by proxy, stroking through his clothes while transfixed on you. Goddamn he wished he could remember the way you felt wrapped around him, but that sensation had been lost when he succumbed to the disease. All he could do was watch and enjoy the way your body looked while your movements became more sloppy as the warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach, that delicious heat that you had not felt in so long.
“Yes, yes,” you mewled under your breath while your thighs clenched around your hand as you were so close. You brought in another finger to join the first one and with both you slipped them inside your entrance; it was nothing like the way Ghost could fill you out, but it would have to do.
Bearing down hard while you kept the pace steady, your breathing more erratic, you finally reached the peak and spilled violently over the edge, tumbling down as your body writhed and jerked through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm. You stifled your cries as much as you could inside your mouth, but they still reached an unknown listener who nearly came himself if he had not had to move quick before being spotted.
…and that left him very frustrated…   
You fell onto the mattress, removing your fingers from your pussy as you breathed out a sigh of contented relief. It hadn’t been clear just how much you needed that until you came and fuck did you feel on cloud nine now. As you rolled over onto your stomach to stare up at the ceiling while you rode out the wave of your euphoric high, you swore you heard a series of strange movement just outside your door; a soft few taps that sounded like they were getting farther away which would have been out of place, but the house you were currently boarded up in was old and so you convinced yourself it was nothing.
Besides, if anything was truly wrong, Ghost would have already alerted you by now. 
It was several minutes you just laid there in the silence before you took one last deep breath to calm yourself as you got up to straighten your clothing and re-buttoned your pants, hoping that your self-pleasuring session had gone completely unnoticed to your companion as you headed back down stairs to double check that everything was still secure.
In his usual spot you found him standing, always watching with that unblinking gaze, but as you stepped into the living room his sight was immediately drawn to you. “Hey,” you greeted him, “everything still okay out there?”
The usual grunted reply was returned and you stepped over to where he stood, just to take a look for yourself. It didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and you felt more comfortable checking for yourself anyway. Scanning the area outside you saw nothing out of place, but as you pulled back from the window you were met with those cold eyes directly staring at you.
Silently Ghost’s large hand came up to touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that drew his curiosity and he grunted with a nod of his head at it. You diverted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they were still, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was you were doing upstairs; not that you cared, but shit you didn’t need your business plastered all over your face like that.
“It’s nothing,” you reassured him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”
Fully expecting him to take you at your word you went to move over to the sofa, but his hand clung to the side of your face to keep you in your place. You tilted your head as he shook his own side to side slowly. 
“What? Don’t believe me?” you picked, slightly concerned about this strange development; he had not acted in such a way before and you did not know if it was a part of the infection or not. 
Again he shook his head before his eyeline lowered down your body until his sight stopped at the crotch of your pants. Shit, had he heard you? Could he smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to your cunt? There was no real way to tell, but the way his eyeline kept drifting down before meeting your own again was enough to indicate that he was aware of what you had just done. 
You cleared your throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” you asked and was met with another nod, this time to the affirmative.
Well, nothing to do about it now; what was the point of denying it? “Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” you spurted out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while we tried not to get overrun. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”
Ghost looked back at you with those milky white eyes, but there was something behind them, something that you recognized, something… yearning. Suddenly you were aware that his other hand was on your hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft warm skin just under the hem of your shirt. 
Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten; if you closed your eyes, it was like you were right there back with him. Your chest was tight with the increased thumping of your heartbeat in your throat, the air not filling up your lungs as well now as he pulled you in a little closer to him until your bodies were against one another. 
That was when you felt something against your thigh.
“Can you…?” you risked asking the question. No, there was no way that he could still get hard, right? Right? 
A large, cold hand wrapped around your wrist and brought it down to his crotch where he rested your palm against it and to your surprise the bulge in his pants responded to your touch. Your eyes shot back up to his as your breathing hitched. 
“Fuck,” you murmured and was promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle. 
Perhaps it was the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give you; perhaps it was the need that you had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it was your memories that you’d used as you touched yourself; or maybe it was as simple as you still wanted him; whatever the reason it didn’t matter. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more of what you started upstairs.  
Hesitantly your fingers grasped at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Ghost raised his arms and allowed you to pull it up and off over his head. His body was just as you remembered, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections were the same and as you ran those delicate fingertips over his skin it all came flooding back.
This is crazy, you told yourself. But it was the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?
“It’s been a while,” you said, gaze taking him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just taking off your shirt, ya know.”
“Uhh,” he grunted in agreement. 
The contrast in body temperature between you both was stark and he enjoyed the warm, tingling feeling your finger left behind wherever they went. He had not felt such a phenomenon in so long that it was like lightening striking inside his mind as nerve endings reignited. It went the same with his pants as you undid them to let them hang loosely around his hips.
Following your lead, he helped you out of your shirt as well so that you stood bare chests facing one another. Your nipples were already hardening as they hit the cool air and he ran a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. You were perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fueled that hungry need he had to abruptly cut off before and the more he stared the more it grew.
The couch sat just behind you and taking your hand in his he moved the few steps over it to take a seat. Grabbing onto your hips and turning you around, he pulled you down onto his lap to sit on top of him. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him was straining even harder now and you had to open your legs so that it could comfortably stand at attention in between them.
Situated on him you leaned your warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that you knew by touch alone were now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against you just as they always had. Ghost took those stiff, cold fingers and ran them slowly down the line of your neck to your chest, around the tissue of your breast and down still to the curve of your hip. 
Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long made your skin tingle and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to close your eyes and simply enjoyed the icy prickles his fingers created. He brought those fingers back up all the winding way to your throat and then back down again, except he did not stop at your hip this time. 
Lower he walked those decaying digits into your lap, then inside the waistband of your jeans, and then all the way down until he was inside your panties. You didn’t try to stop him, instead letting your knees fall open to give him more access. The further he went the more he could feel just how warm you were, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cupped his hand around your sex.
“Christ,” you exclaimed in shock as your body jolted against him, your pussy still a good bit sensitive from before. 
“Uhhh,” he groaned in response, intrigued by how much he enjoyed causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it. 
Again your scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and it began to awaken something primal within him. Taking his fingers, he drug them heavily over the slit of your cunt until they slipped between your petals and into that still dripping core. Again your body jolted into him as those thick fingers rubbed the length until he found what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top. 
“Ugh,” that deep groan was more breathless this time, as if he were enjoying the feeling of your juices coating his fingers.  
Cool fingers began stroking against your clit with a rhythm that was ingrained in him from past experience and it was like falling right back into old habits. Your hips started to roll over his hand as they were want to do in response to his movements so that it was like a dance of give and take and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it to feel the way your body moved.
Like an animal a strange compulsion awakened inside, enhanced by the disease coursing through his veins, and the untamed part of his new nature was flooded with the need to rut into you. The more music you made, the more it filled his chest until the sensation became too much to quell. 
With a growl he moved you both to the floor in a rush, ripping your jeans off of you in one strong tug before pushing you forward and pulling your hips up so that you had to get on your knees. He too knelt behind you as he shoved the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of your hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips made the muscle sting, he aligned the head with your slit. 
This was crazy, highly dangerous, and slightly insane, but you couldn’t stop, not with how your body felt being pleasured for the first time in well over a year by someone who knew it. Whatever the consequences you’d deal with them later, right now you just needed to be filled to the brim with everything he had. 
Instinct knew what to do and slipping through your petals a few times, he rested the head against your opening and with a strong thrust shoved himself inside as far as he could go. Goddamn you had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he was, but there must be something in being undead that made him even more engorged because his girth almost more than the walls of your pussy could handle. Fuck, you were so full of him that when he finally pulled out of you it would feel so goddamn empty it would physically hurt.
You were aware that his cool palm was on your back now, running up the length of your spine to just between your shoulders where Ghost stopped to shove your top half down further into the ground so that your ass would rise more and without more of pause he began to thrust in and out of you furiously. Each stroke stretched you out more until the sting subsided and that was left was the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.
“Simon,” you moaned out his name and a dormant part of his brain lit up. Hearing it for the first time upstairs was nice, but being inside of you as you breathed life into that moniker was the highest level of ecstasy he had experienced yet.
And he need more. “UH,” he growled with force as he slammed into you from behind to make your ass bounce off of his hips. 
You braced your hands under your head to steady yourself, but it did little; the man inside of you was gone and all you could do was hang on. Still, even with his roughness, the way his cock still reached those desperate nerve endings inside of you made the arch of your back even more pronounced. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” you choked out the exclamation as your voice vibrated from the impacts. 
Harder and faster Ghost pounded your pussy from behind, throwing caution to the wind as he grunted and groaned like a beast on the hunt about to capture a fresh kill. You were so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin felt reanimated so that each brush of your body against him had him reeling in pleasure. 
This was the closest he would get to feeling like a living thing again.
Stopping suddenly he ripped his cock out of you amidst your begging protests to flip you onto your back, brutishly pulling your ass onto his knees. Your thighs rested high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrust back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returned to that overwhelming rhythm. 
The room was filled with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as Ghost worked your hole for all it was worth with a reckless abandon that you had not seen in him before. This wasn’t love, not something tender, but only pure animalistic lust and the more he stroked in and out of you the more he needed.
And then he felt it; a warmth in his stomach like he had swallowed coals. It started faint, almost indistinguishable until it had nearly filled him full the more he kept going. 
He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down, he was so close he could taste it. You weren’t far off either, nearly at the peak of your second orgasm the harder his cock stroked in and out of you, stimulating your clit along with it just from the pressure of his thrusts. 
“Shit, don’t stop,” you pleaded pathetically to him, your toes curling into the air as you focused on your breathing. Right there, it was right there; all he had to do was keep going.   
A few more pumps of him deep in your core and that was it, like a hot flash of white light you cried out in shaky whimpers as your orgasm tore through with such force you shot up as your back arched and your hips bucked harshly into him. “Goddammit Simon, fuck.”
He wasn’t far behind as the warmth that had been building finally shot through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he ripped his cock out of you and through your thighs to cover your stomach in his milky white semen. The roar he released while he drained his cock dry over top of you rang out through the house like a wild animal’s cry until he hung limply over top of you, completely spent.
Everything lay still once again as you caught your breath, allowing your ecstasy to run its course before you even tried to move out from against him. As you came to sit up, once again you were met with his eyes watching you closely. It felt like he was admiring his handiwork: the flush in your cheeks, the sweat speckling your torso, the exhaustion in your limbs. 
He had done that…and he liked it.
You flashed him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” you laughed and he chuckled deadoan along with you. 
Maybe the end of the world didn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now you both knew that there were ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, were you going to keep having little bits of fun.
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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Him and I (2/2)
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Summary: Lyla, is it normal to be jealous of your variant? Prev A/N: shout out to the literal artist of the recent 2099 comics for drawing atsv miggy and comic miggy side by side, it inspired this fic in the first place. TheWarBlazer on twt :) Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, little PWP, Word Count: 6, 355 Comic Miggy = Mig / ATSV Miggy = Miguel c:
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By morning, you had woken up slowly, processing where you were and what you had done the night before. Your hair was a mess and you pulled the covers around you when it slipped off, feeling a bit chilly. You looked around you to find yourself to put on, ultimately finding your panties ripped apart from yesterday so you just settled on loose shorts and Miguel’s blue t-shirt lying to the side. You noticed he wasn’t beside you but there was a smell in the air that told you he was at least still home and making breakfast.
You got up from the bed, making sure your legs worked still before peeking out the door to see if you could spot him. You turned your head from side to side until you finally caught him, leaning against the stove slightly in a compression shirt with sweatpants.
Miguel was there cooking up a basic breakfast of eggs and toast, taking a few sips of what you believe to be his protein shake. He glanced behind his shoulder to see you and he gently smiled. “Hey.”
You smiled weakly back at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice your cheeks darkening. “Hey. Morning.” You waved awkwardly.
Miguel chuckled and pointed to a bag on the glass table. “I bought some empanadas from the panaderia I go to. I didn’t know which one you’d like so I got both chicken and beef.” He faced back to the pan to scramble his eggs. You made your way over to the bag, opening it up to see another smaller set of bags labeled messily with Miguel’s handwriting.
“Which one do you recommend?” You asked, taking one from the beef label.
“The chicken.” He responded. You chuckled to yourself since the other Miguel preferred beef.
You walked over next to him and watched him work as you took a bite into the empanada. He turned and gave you a small smile, satisfied that you liked what he brought you.
“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, turning off the stove and taking two plates from the cupboard. You nod.
“Yeah. Just, uh, starting to wake up.” You blush softly, remembering the scenes from last night. Mig hides the prideful smile on his face.
“That’s good. I’m glad.” He places a decent amount on both of your plates and leads you to the dining table where you both begin eating and chatting.
He admires you as you speak, finding the beauty in this new you that he once knew.
After a while, you and Miguel felt the air shift, mugs and utensils starting to hover a bit in mid-air. You stiffened, knowing what this feeling was. Someone was opening a portal. Someone found you.
You quickly stand up and Miguel follows with a worried expression. “What’s wrong?” He asks, on edge and his talons extract subconsciously to the unknown he felt around him. You don’t answer and instead face the door of his bedroom where the warping was. Your spider senses went wild but calmed down the moment you realized that this was another spider person–they weren’t threats but you were just shocked.
You take a step back, closer in front of Miguel in case whatever spider person would ask questions. What you weren’t prepared for, was your boss opening the bedroom door to walk where you two were.
There was the leader of the Spider Society in all his glory, Miguel O’Hara–the original version you knew.
“Miguel…” You gasped breathlessly in shock, barely a whisper. Shit. “He-hey!” You laugh nervously. “You, uh, wow–haha.” You were speechless, knacking your brain to say something–anything to explain yourself. “You found me,” you chuckled nervously. “Y’know–I–I was lost for a bit but um–thankfully–I found another spider person and–wouldn’t you know it– it’s another you. So I was…extra…safe…” You trail off, noticing how Miguel had stared behind you to look at his other variant. You glance behind you to see the redhead tense up, standing up straighter to not be intimidated by this other version of himself.
“Yes. I was looking for you.” Miguel grunts, still as hardworking as ever. “The others were worried.”
Your gaze softened, thinking of your friends and feeling your heart swell at their concern. “Yeah. But I’m safe and look,” You showed your watch up to Miguel, his eyes ripping themselves off his variant to your watch. “He fixed it for me. You two really are alike.” You smile.
“I–I was gonna go back, but the watch was just fixed. No communications and the touch pad wasn’t working–” You tried to explain but your boss cuts you off.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Now we need you back.” He frowns down at you. Your smile drops and so does your heart.
“Well…well of course but–”
“But?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow up, his frown deepening. You purse your lips–even though you knew Miguel close enough, he was still your boss. You glance back at his counterpart apologetically and in turn he glances down at you.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper your apology to him and he doesn’t like it.
“You don’t have to go.” He whispers back to you, one hand resting on your arm and the other cupping your cheek. Neither of you notice your boss glare at the way he’s touching you. “You can go back whenever.” He insists.
“Actually she can’t,” The brunette's voice booms between you two. “She has a job to do as Spider-Woman–at the HQ.” He hisses out.
“But she wants to stay here. You can’t just make her.” The redhead retaliates. Miguel grows annoyed, kissing his teeth with a loud tsk.
“She isn’t yours.” MIguel grabbed your arm and tugged you towards his chest. The redhead grabbed onto your other arm and tried pulling you away from him, making you in the middle.
“She isn’t yours either.” He spat back. Both Miguel’s scowled at one another, your boss puffing up his chest to tower over both of you while his variant bared his fangs unwavering to his attempt to scare him off. “Did you even bother to ask what she wants?”
You look up at the redhead, even though he was facing off his counterpart–they could very well tear each other apart. “Miggy, just hold on–”
“Miggy?!” Your boss scrunches up his face, not even prepared to hear a nickname come out of your mouth for his variant. You blushed and opened your mouth in shock–the nickname had spilled out.
“Not–Not like that! It isn’t like that!”
“Not like that? What, so you just have sex with every variant? Give them pet names right after?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms in a snarl.
You start babbling to defend yourself but Mig perks up.
“What do you mean by that?” He asks. You and Miguel both turn to him–you still flustered while Miguel scowls at his counterpart.
“What are you talking about?”
“How did you know we had sex?” Mig crosses his arms and narrows his eyes up at Miguel on the other side. You blink for a moment and then it slowly processes in your brain.
He…He watched. But how?
The watch.
You snapped your neck back to your boss and you see him clench his jaw but his eyes don’t look at down at you–the tips of his ears grow increasingly red.
“You watched,” Mig laughs, shaking his head in disbelief and throwing his hands up. “You watched,” He repeats. “You sick-"
Stubbornly, Miguel tries not to falter. “She called.”
But his own self knows better than that. “And you stayed.”
“I was making sure she was safe.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Making sure she could safely cum? Yeah, I handled that.”
“Guys—” You interrupt with pure horror on your face. “Can we please not?” You turn to face Miguel’s general direction but you don’t meet his eyes. “We can just forget about everything in the last twenty four hours and what happened here so–”
“I want you back at HQ,” Miguel grumbles, turning his head away from you but still protecting his masculinity and pride with his arms tightened around him. “Away from here and back to work.”
His counterpart scoffs a humorless laugh. “Now I get it,” He walks up to Miguel and pulls you behind him “You’re jealous.”
Miguel squints his eyes down at him. “What?” He growls but the other’s smile only grows. He’s figured him out. They have the same mind after all.
“Jealous,” He repeats. “Did you have some feelings for her? Is that why you’re here all pissed? Just cause I got to her first?”
“Don’t piss me off.” Miguel’s face hardens, his frown growing deeper and showing his fangs off to threaten him.
“Or what?” Mig growls back, his talons extracting from his fingertips.
Feeling the growing tension, you try to speak up since one Miguel was dangerous enough–two of them would be catastrophic.
“Hey–can we not, maybe?” You interject, moving beside Mig and trying to catch your boss’ eye. Mig turns his head at you for a moment and then grinning to himself as he comes up with an idea.
The redhead hugs your back close to his chest, one hand on your hip and the other sliding up his shirt you’re wearing to reveal your stomach to the brunette. “Mig!” You gasp, blushing fiercely and holding onto his arms. You look away from your boss in embarrassment, opting to hide in his variant's neck, which he happily allows. You fail to notice your boss’s breath hitch at seeing your bare skin and his pupils being blown wide. The Miguel behind you smirks even wider.
“We could share.”
“I don’t share.” He growls.
“So you do want her. Just for yourself.” Miguel doesn’t respond, his eyes focused on the way you squirmed under his gaze alone.
“Mig–Mig, please.” You whine when you feel his porcelain hand disappear under your shirt to cup one tit in his hand and run his thumb over your nipple.
“Stop that.” Miguel’s jaw clenched when his eyes met his match. Bright red eyes narrowing at his scarlet ones.
“I’m not stupid. I’m you. I know what you want,” The redhead murmurs, grazing his teeth on your earlobe. “What she wants,” His mouth curls up when he sees you purse your lips to hide your moans but he can feel your heartbeat. “What we all want right now.”
Mig looks up at the other version of himself, realizing that this one might not be as confident as he is. A by the rules asshole who was all about work, work, work. He was the same but not to this extent. However, if this Spider-Man was anything like him, all he had to do was wave the candy in front of his face and he’d crack. No matter the universe, Miguel O’Hara always grabbed what he wanted if the right buttons were pressed.
Your soft mewl snaps them both out of their mental warfare, two pairs of eyes looking down at you between them to see you look bashful and hot with embarrassment. For a moment, both men stop, equally concerned with putting you in the middle. Your boss feels the most guilt but Mig on the other hand feels less so. With his hand right by your heart, he can feel the heat emanating from your body and pounding heartbeat against your ribs. He has felt the same need and craving when you were squealing last night.
“Isn’t that something you want?” Mig hums, his hand on your hip playing with the string of your shorts. Miguel takes a firm step forward to stop him but was stopped when you nodded your head. Your eyes still shut while you felt your cheeks burning. Mig’s touch was intoxicating especially with the feeling of him on you from last night still lingering on your body.
“I need words, sweetheart.” He hums and you purse your lips for a moment.
“Yes…” You choke out.
“Yes, what?” Mig asks you but looks at Miguel.
“Yes, I want it…” You groan, feeling humiliated but it was exhilarating at the same time. The redhead slides his hand under your shorts to feel the new wet patch growing between your legs. Mig smirks as he remembers slicing off your panties last night. He nudges your legs, a silent command to spread them apart and you give him that access with shaky steps. He lets you relax on his chest while his fingers spread your folds apart while you whimper. Miguel stares at the hand in your pants with a blush across his face, fighting his two emotions of wanting to stop this and wanting to make you whimper like that.
Your boss’ variant bunches up your shirt over your breasts and you writhe in his hold, trying to gain some sense of decency while the two men basically get off on just the sight of you.
“You want more, don’t you?” Mig behind you purrs, his fingers in your shorts gently rub circles against your clit while his other hand tweaks and pinches your nipple. “Want to feel nice and full?” He kisses along your neck and you try to grind against his fingers, wanting them to slip inside but he was just teasing you. You moan softly, focusing on the feeling of electricity jolting down to your core.
“Uh-huh, mhm–please,” You whined. Miguel’s breathing increases and his suit strains to accommodate for the bulge growing between himself. His hands clench and unclench beside him as he itches to grab your body to feel the soft skin you could provide him. His eyes lingered on your tits and he licked his lips subconsciously.
“Hear that? She wants more. Isn’t that convenient?” The redhead chuckles, slipping his hand out from your pants and showing up with his fingers covered from the juices your cunt provided him. “You just gonna leave her like this? Or are you gonna help out your precious little employee?” He taunts Miguel and Miguel swallows the lump in his throat.
Miguel takes another step forward just enough to be in front of you and to feel the heat coming off you and his variant. He hesitantly rests his hand on your hip and you flinch, not expecting to feel a third hand on your body. Miguel’s variant raises his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and smears a bit of it on your bottom lip. You open up slightly but Mig had already slid them inside your mouth making your tongue taste yourself. You whine as best you could with his fingers in your mouth and look up at Miguel with shame. You felt your cheeks burning hot but your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Miguel stared down at you, huffing softly as he watched you suck your slick off his own variants fingers.
“Fuck…” He groaned and his grip on your hip tightened. “Can I? Please.” He bent over slightly, his breath hitting your face. The redhead behind you watched and then flicked your nipple when you didn’t respond fast enough. You yelped around his digits and felt them slip out, a string of saliva coming out.
You nodded again, reaching one hand off Mig’s arm to hold onto Miguel’s shoulder.
Miguel slides your shorts down, pooling them underneath you and moans when he finds you without underwear, his cock twitching in anticipation. His hand on your hip slides down to lift your leg up and he moves closer to rub his crotch against your core. The blunt nudge sent a jolt of pleasure through your body and you nearly fell back if Mig wasn’t holding you from behind. Miguel’s other hand rises up to cup your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his fingers.
“Ah–Fuck…!” You gasp and roll your head back against his variant's shoulder, your eyes barely glancing down at the two toned hands cupping and grabbing your body. You feel Mig thrust softly behind you, poking your ass while Miguel continues to grind up against your pussy. Your mind went foggy as you felt both men surround you, the fantasy of being taken by both of them sent your brain short circuiting.
The shirt you had been wearing fumbles back down, covering yourself once more. Miguel grunts in annoyance, letting go of your breast to rip the fabric into shreds with his talons that made Mig tsk. Miguel went back to playing with your nipple until he leaned down to latch onto it, flicking the nub gently with his tongue. You twitched and gasped, arching your back off Mig and into Miguel’s mouth. “Miguel!” You mewl and he groans in response, biting it with his teeth and pulling before letting go and watching how erect it had gotten, wet with his spit.
You hear Mig grunt behind you, bucking his hips against your ass to feel some friction for his cock. His arm wrapped around your middle to pull you against him, his lips dragged along your neck in open mouthed kisses and his hand returned to twist your nipple between his index finger and thumb. Miguel pulled away from you a bit so glance down at the soaking mess you made on his suit, his cock throbbing for more. So, he rips his variant’s hand off your waist.
Miguel then hauled you over his shoulder, returning back to the bedroom and tossing your body on the mattress, giving you a strange sense of deja vu. Mig rolled his eyes and followed behind your two and saw you on his bed once more. You squeak and cover your eyes when Miguel phased out of his suit and Mig tossed his shirt up and over his head. Miguel crawls in bed with you, his frame basically covering everything in front of you. You peek through your fingers and close your legs which makes both men frown. Mig crawls beside you, pulling one leg apart while Miguel takes the other. Mig takes your hands away from your face and settles for kissing your cheeks and trailing down to your jaw and collarbone.
“Don’t be shy,” He murmurs, his hands cupping your tits in his large palms. “You’ve already had one of us. What’s another one, hm?” You moan out when he plays with one nipple in his hand and sucking the other. Miguel kisses down your stomach, finding himself fond of your thighs, squishing them in his hands and grazing them softly with his talons. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his tongue teases just outside your pussy.
Miguel’s plump lips take your clit and he gently sucks on it, his tongue licking up and down and swirling around it. You quickly grip both Miguel’s hair in one hand and pull them closer to you body. Your mind didn’t know who to focus on first, it was like they touched every nerve possible and turned you numb, only to feel pleasure and nothing else.
Miguel pulls away entirely, spreading your folds apart to see the increasing amount of slick you were producing and he groaned. He slips a finger inside you pushing through from how tight you surrounded yourself on his digit. “Coño…” Miguel mutters. You spread your legs further apart, Miguel kissing the inside of your thigh appreciatively. Your head rolls back as the two men assault every possible soft spot on your body.
Mig twists your nipple between his fingers at the same time his mouth suckled around your other nipple. You felt his teeth nibble the bud, his fangs grazing over you delicately. Miguel continues to ease his finger deeper inside you, preparing you for another finger. You moan loudly, writhing beneath them desperately and it’s no use–not when two grown men are keeping you still with their weight and hands. You try bucking your hips further down Miguel’s fingers, whimpering his name and gasping. Miguel curls his fingers inside you, hitting the soft spot you’ve been craving and so you squeal in pleasure. Mig quickly lets go of your abused nipple to kiss you and hinder your moaning.
Miguel growls and glares at the redhead. “I want to hear her.”
“Mmm, too bad.” Mig chuckles against your lips and slips his tongue in your mouth. You could barely focus, face contorted in pleasure as Miguel takes it as a challenge. He dives back into your cunt, pumping his fingers while his tongue flicks up and down to lap up your juices. Your moans are muffled by Mig’s mouth but your hips buck wildly to meet your boss’ wet muscle licking you up. He pins your hips down so he can focus on eating you out properly and you whimper, your body completely hindered and at their command. His nose nudges against your clit and you claw into their hair. One hand in straight ginger locks while the other hand yanks on wavy brown strands.
Mig pulls away from your lips to take a deep breath, both your tongues and lips are wet from swapping spit. You’re breathless from the kiss so you stick to small whines and mewling as you hump yourself on Miguel’s fingers and mouth. He feels you convulsing around his fingers and he eases a third finger, scissoring you to stretch you out just a little more. “Miguel! Miguel! So close, I'm so close–please!” You beg, trying to fight against his hands holding you down.
But Miguel pulls away all of a sudden. The pressure inside your abdomen disappears and you groan in frustration. “No!”
“Tranquilo. You’ll get what you want.” Miguel mutters under his breath. He looks over at his variant, a silent conversation going on that only a Miguel would ever understand. Mig settles by your head, his cock strained against his sweatpants. You look over lazily at it and try to reach for his waistband but he stops you with a gentle smile.
“Not yet, princess.” He kisses your knuckles before dropping it back to your side. You’re confused for just a moment but you’re pulled out of it when you feel Miguel lift your legs over his shoulders. He lines his cock up with your entrance, his angry red tip dribbling an insane amount of precum. He glides himself in between your folds to lube himself up and your pussy throbs feeling how hard he is. Miguel huffs, his cheeks flushed as the lust clouds his judgment and mind.
Being as gentle as he possibly could, Miguel pushes his tip inside you. You gasp and arch your back, Miguel being just a bit bigger than you’ve taken before. Mig jumps into action, playing with your nipples while he runs kisses along your neck. “Hold onto me, mama. I’ve got you.” He murmurs. Your hand grips into his hair again while the other grips the sheets.
“Mig, Mig…” You whine while Miguel pushes further inside. Miguel rubs your thighs to ease you into some comfort and trying to stop himself from splitting you apart. Both men whisper sweet nothings to you, praising you for how well you’re doing and how good it’ll feel. Miguel rubs your clit in small circles while he reaches the hilt.
“S’good…” Miguel murmurs. “You’re doing so good.” He slowly pulls out, watching your pussy soak his cock. He strokes himself inside you softly as to not hurt you but, damn, was it hard. Mig tries to relieve your stress by bringing your nipple in his mouth again, his hands holding you and rolling your other nipple between his fingers.
You moan and arch your back, your hips lifting up to meet one of Miguel’s soft thrusting. That feeling you had last night of needing something more was slowly being quenched. Having multiple hands, multiple options of pleasure was just what you needed and it seemed like they thought the same. Miguel held your legs up while he picked up his pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. You felt him stretch you out with every thrust, your pussy coating his cock with wet slapping and sticky echoes. Mig murmurs into your ear.
“Can you feel it? You take cock so well, look at you. You look so pretty getting fucked, hm? Oh, you poor thing.” Mig taunts you, his hands squeezing your breasts in his palms, your nipples and mounds having bite marks all over them. You wail and thrust your hips to meet Miguel's pounding, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you felt the same pressure of your orgasm coming up.
Miguel groans, panting and huffing to keep himself steady while he fucks you. His hand presses down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling his tip slide in and out and poke through your stomach.
For some reason, that was the final push you needed to cum–your pussy clenching and unclenching as you cream and cry around Miguel’s thick girth. Your legs shook in his hands while he rammed into you to prolong your orgasm. He pulled out before he could cum with his teeth clenched tightly while Mig let go of your tits and stood up from the bed. Miguel takes a few deep breaths as he watches you barely recover from your high. His cock was still painfully hard and now glistening with your cum. Your body was bruised– hickeys around your chest from Mig and tiny scratches on your legs and thighs from Miguel’s talons.
Miguel tugs you up and lies you on your stomach so you’re facing the foot of the bed. You feel him tap your thigh. “Knees. C’mon.” He mumbles and you weakly try to lift yourself up but Miguel grows impatient, settling for just picking up your bottom half himself. His calloused hands grip into your plush hips, carrying most of your weight. You see Mig approach where you are and you look up. He smirks down at you and narrows his eyes downward and you follow. You gulp and grab the sheets into your fists when you’re met with the sight of him stroking his cock softly. Your mouth drops open in surprise and you feel your mouth water. His tip was already red and leaking and you’re entranced with the way he rubs his thumb across the head to smear his precum as lube.
His other hand lifts your gaze back up at him with his thumb forcing your lips apart to open them. You blink up at him and his heart skips a beat at how pretty you’ll look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The redhead looks at his counterpart from behind you, giving him a small nod and he returns one back.
“Be a good girl and open up.” Mig hums and taps his cock to your lips–he’s been waiting for this. You open up and stick your tongue out for him to slide onto. His tip feels heavy as he nudges himself deeper in your warm mouth, his breathing already increasing rapidly. Your lips wrap around his thick cock, nearly hitting his base but enough for the red hair of his pubes to graze your nose. He groans above you, struggling to force you deeper down himself and instead reaches for your hair to grab onto.
You feel Miguel behind you slide his cock back inside you, pushing himself to the hilt where his balls smack your sensitive folds and bumping your forward, making you choke on Mig’s dick. The redhead hisses and grunts, yanking you back. “Be shocking careful.” He growls at Miguel but he ignores him. Miguel’s mind is somewhere else entirely, his eyes haven’t left your ass. He grips each cheek in his hand and bites his bottom lip, his fang piercing the skin for a second.
“Que bonita eres,” Miguel praises, tugging you back against his pelvis and making his cockhead arch up into your sweet spot. You shook and rolled your eyes back, nearly falling apart if it weren’t Mig holding you up. You clamp down on his cock instinctively which makes your boss choke on his gasp.
“Shit–she’s still tight.” Miguel moans, rocking his hips against your ass. “Relájate, mi amor–así, así.”
Your body moves after every push of Miguel’s thrusts–pushing you back and forth on the cock in your cunt and the cock in your mouth simultaneously. Mig moans in turn, the vibration from your own whimpering runs down his length for stimulation. His hand keeps a tight grip in your hair to make sure your head stays up and sucking. You feel your neck strain to look up while both men use your body for their own pleasure.
Sounds of slurping, squelching, and moaning surround the room. You could hear the quiet grunt of Mig while Miguel was a little louder, groaning and muttering things under his breath. You thought for a split second that Miguel was little more rough on you than his counterpart–or maybe it could’ve just been because it’s his first time fucking you. You didn’t care honestly.
You tried to focus on the Miguel in front of you, his dick filling your mouth and his tip occasionally poking the back of your throat and making you tear up. Your tongue swirls around him, gagging a bit and leaving copious amounts of spit on him. You glide your tongue under a throbbing vein of his and he hisses above you, his hand pulling your head forward to take him deeper and slapping his balls on your chin. “Fuck, I should’ve made you do this earlier–” He moans. “Should’ve known those pretty lips would do some good sucking me off.” He thrusts a bit faster and you can practically feel him swell up at the thought.
You moan around him, spit dribbling out your mouth and down your chin. You could taste the new flavor of his salty precum on your taste buds and the natural musk of his cock. Your jaw began to feel sore from being stretched open to accommodate his girth. Mig’s hand tried to shakily push back the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face. “That’s it, gorgeous. You’re doing so good for me. You like that? Feeling full, hm?” He teased, knowing you couldn’t even answer if you tried.
More saliva accumulated inside your mouth and you moaned around him pathetically as your response. You pussy clenched from his teasing which made the brunette behind you groan and pump himself faster inside you. He held your hips tightly going fast and short strokes which increased the sound of skin slapping on skin. You focused your eyes up at the redhead until your eyes widened feeling a hard smack to your ass.
You whined around Mig’s cock, feeling the tears prick in your eyes from pain and pleasure while Miguel behind you left a few more slaps to your ass before squeezing it in his large hand. Mig looked over at his counterpart fucking you from behind, kneading the plump flesh while he bucked wildly like an primal animal. Miguel’s eyes were clouded with raw lust, focusing on the way your ass jiggled and rippled with every pound and slap, how you mewled around his variant’s cock and how your previous orgasm made it so much easier to slip in and out of you.
God, you were perfect, Miguel thought to himself. So desperate and so willing to have not just one of him but two. “So greedy,” He murmured between heavy breaths. “Just had to have two cocks, huh? Just one isn’t enough—couldn’t settle so you wanted me to fuck you, is that it? Needed your boss to cum inside this weeping cunt?” Miguel groaned and lolled his head slightly back while his hips began to speed up. His cock swelled inside you, his balls tightening for release but he held back–just a little longer, it feels too good.
Your eyes rolled back, unable to keep sucking the redhead dick anymore with how their teasing and talking sent you in overdrive. Drool leaked out of you and you felt your pussy gush more juices on him and down your thighs. Mig pats your cheek to wake you up out of your cock-drunk haze.
“Head up, princess. Keep sucking, I’m so close.” He moans, grabbing the back of your head and shoving you up and down on his length.
You were made for this, both Miguel’s decided. You knew just how to please them, your pussy was already carved in the shape of their cocks, your tongue knowing exactly how to suck. Now that they had you, they were never letting go. Maybe there are some things Miguel O’Hara can share.
You weakly went back to sucking Mig off, but he didn’t mind. Just the feeling of your wet warm and drooling mouth was enough to have his cock twitching down your throat.
“Haah, fuck–” The man above moans, gripping your hair tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit–I’m gonna cum.” He whines and tries to pull himself off you but you whimpered and reached out your hand to grab his thigh from moving away. He looks down to see your eyes pleading and begging him.
“You wanna swallow?” He asks between huffs, a smirk slowly curling up. “Alright. I’ll give you what you want, princess.” You closed your eyes, a silent thank you as you tried to properly help him reach his climax and cum in your mouth. Mig closes his eyes and thrusts in abandon, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat and swelling up before releasing in your mouth. You gag a bit, unexpecting so much to come out but you tried swallowing as much of him as you could.
You felt him softening on your tongue while you drank his thick cum, some of it being too much and dribbling down your lips and his length, Your tongue slipped around him to make sure he got his fill before he slid out your lips. A string of his cum and your saliva connecting from his tip to your wet lips. Mig stroked his cock a few more times, the beads of leftover cum spurting from his tip which you happily lapped up with the tip of your tongue.
“Oh, such a good girl.” Mig praises, his thumb cupping your chin to open your mouth to make sure you swallowed everything. You opened up softly, moaning and whimpering freely now that you aren’t hindered by dick down your throat. Mig, now exhausted from cumming, pulled away from you to sit on one of his plush chairs in his bedroom. His chest heaved up and down as he calmed down from his high. Meanwhile, your head fell to rest on the edge of the mattress while Miguel continued to hump you, his cock engorging every second with his own release. Especially with the way you moaned and squealed.
“Tan mojada, tan apretada–ay Dios–por favor, por favor–"Miguel moaned, slurring under his breath while he looked down to watch his dick disappear in your pussy and reappear with an unbelievable amount of wetness. His thrust went out of rhythm, now a desperate attempt to just finish inside you.
“I’m gonna cum inside, okay?” He groans. “Eso se suena bien, mami?” He leans over you to pound his cock in a different spot, his hand coming down to push your head in the mattress. Your cheek is smushed to the side and you can barely see Miguel fucking you from behind but you can feel his hand grab your entire head.
“Uh-huh!” You babble, mouth just being filled and drenched with cum. Miguel sees your eyes half-lidded and rolled back, jaw slack as you spill out moans and more drool with his variants cum drying on your chin and lips.
Miguel lets out a deep growl from his throat as he fastens his pace, his talons pricking your skin around your hip to keep you steady while he uses you. You scream his name, your vision going white and hot with pleasure as you finally reach your orgasm again. You came around him, the sound of wet plaps becoming more prominent as Miguel thrusts his last few times.
Seeing your body go limp and sensitive from just orgasming made his moan in response, his cock twitching wildly before stiffening and shooting his thick load inside you. He painted your insides white, the warmth of it slipping out between him and you from the sheer amount of cum he produced. Miguel continued to slowly pump himself dry, making sure your pussy squeezed every drop he could offer, shuddering when he pulled out of your wet walls to see himself drenched in both your fluids.
Miguel let you go, watching your spent body flop down without the help of him picking you up. It was now more quiet than usual, just the sounds of heavy breathing as you collected yourselves, sweat dripping down everyone’s skin.
Mig smirks lazily from his comfortable plush chair, his cock in his hand and semi-hard from watching you two finish. He glances at Miguel’s glistening cock, also semi-hard just by watching how you glow after cumming.
“I could go another round.” Mig huffs and Miguel turns to him with a tired look but with a speck of lust ignited in them.
You whimpered and shook from the aftershocks of your orgasm still flowing through you. “No…no more. I’m…It’s so sensitive…” You drooled on the sheets, trying to catch your breath and feel the nerves come back to your body.
Miguel looks down at you and nudges your legs apart to see the damage done to your pussy. Swollen and glistening with all types of fluids and cum. He uses his fingers to spread your folds and you twitch and whine weakly, Miguel’s cum oozing out of you. He jams the amount that had leaked out of your back inside with two of his fingers, making you moan. His other hand grabs your ass cheek apart and he grins.
Miguel looks up at his counterpart only to see him with the same toothy smirk. Great minds think alike.
“Well, there is… one hole we haven’t used yet.”
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A/N: are u happy to be in paris? :3
To the lovelies that wanted to be tagged <3 🏷
@oscarissac2099 @huniedeux @mcmiracles @gltzpzy @ahano @the-pan-liquid @julian0800 @2099gf @jadeloverxd
feedback appreciated ! plz be nice _(:3」∠)_
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florencemtrash · 5 months
Text
Heads Will Roll | Azriel x Reader Oneshot
Warnings: Violence (aka Reader kills some fae and Rhysand and Azriel are 100% cool with it), fluff
One of Koschei's followers turns up to the Court of Nightmares prepared to make a bargain: your life in exchange for Ataraxia. But he'll soon learn that you are not to be underestimated, and you are always exactly where you want to be.
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Azriel bristled from behind Feyre’s shoulder when the male winnowed into the Court of Nightmares in a dramatic display of power that had everyone beneath the dais falling back.
He was all sharp lines, emboldened by the pure black silhouette of his cape that flared out behind him, teasingly parting to reveal the bone white sword strapped to his right hip that seemed to whisper with horrible power. The only piece of him that didn’t look like it was cut from death and destruction were his bright blue eyes - startlingly innocent and all the more unnerving for it. He fit in well with the violence the Court of Nightmares naturally radiated. 
Rhysand’s eyebrow curled up in a look of carefully crafted boredom from atop his obsidian throne. The only one who looked more nonchalant than him was Feyre. She tilted her head up, staring down the slant of her nose to the unknown male as he extended his arms and bowed as prettily as a bird. 
“Greetings.” Even his voice was sharp and cutting. “To the Lord and Lady.” 
Cassian frowned from behind Rhysand’s back at the omission of their proper title. To the outside, Rhysand was anything if not bored. Inside, he was ready to blow the male to bits. He wore Koschei’s stamp on his forehead, red and dripping like a fresh wound.
Neither the High Lord nor the High Lady deigned to reply.
The male only smiled. All teeth. 
“I come to you on behalf of my master.” His smile grew. More teeth. “You may have heard his name.” 
“Koschei.” The name rolled off Feyre’s lips as easily as if she were ordering a meal - blasé and unimportant. But the name shifted the energy in the room, stirring up hornet's nests of gossip. Heads bowed towards one another like grass stalks in the wind, whispering.
Feyre tapped one finger on her forehead, “He has a fondness for marking his followers.”
“Like a collar on a dog.” Rhysand finished. He stroked the bond, grounded by the feeling of Feyre’s very soul on the other side. She had always been - and always would be - his calm.
“My name is Darwynn.” The male tipped his white head, “And I bring news from my master. News you may find worthy of your time.” 
Azriel’s heart picked up in his chest. 
He knew what was coming - the words that would soon slip out of Darwynn’s mouth. You’d been gone for over a week and he felt your absence from his side as intensely as if someone had ripped the wings from his back. Empty, cold, and unbalanced.
For the first three days he hadn’t worried, even as the bond lay dormant in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hunt after secrets, unraveling mysteries like threads in a coat or diving into the unknown with an insatiable appetite.
Three days were nothing. But nine days was getting to be concerning.
“Go on.” Feyre said with a wave of her hand, looking more interested in the glass of wine in her hand than anything else. 
Darwynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin string of silver stained with blood - a necklace crafted from unbreakable metal with a deep blue pendant swaying like a pendulum. It was a piece of one of Azriel’s siphons, imbued with a small measure of his power and given to you as a Solstice gift after you’d accepted the bond. In the twenty years you’d been together, you’d never once taken it off. It was unnatural to see it swinging in the cruel male's hands.
Cassian growled. Azriel’s jaw clenched, beautiful brows lifting only ever so slightly in surprise. It was the only expression the Shadowsinger had shown all night.
Rhysand mirrored his expression. “Ahhhh yes, my sister. How long has she been missing for now, Az?” Rhysand looked back at him, some unspoken agreement passing through that brief glance. If this male had truly captured you, he would not be leaving this room with his head still on his shoulders.
“Nine days.” The Shadowsinger said, his mouth twitching to the side in a cryptic mix of a smirk and a snarl.
“You have her.” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question.
Darwynn’s eyes lit up with glee and he nodded, clapping his hands together like a child opening birthday presents.
“And what do you want for her? That is why you are here, is it not?” Feyre said once his “applause” ended.
Darwynn shook his finger at her, “It is comforting to know that since Amarantha’s trials, you’ve learned to - how shall I say this? Read between the lines.” 
“Careful.” Rhysand said, a warning trapped within that honey-laced word. Feyre’s illiteracy was hardly a concern for anyone anymore - Rhysand had seen to that - but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a subject that smarted and burned when prodded. 
Feyre’s dark red lips only turned up in a small smirk. Her mate would not allow any harm to befall her - even insults from pathetic creatures such as Darwynn.
"But I digress." Darwynn said silkily, “You should know she is uninjured-” 
“Obviously,” Cassian huffed under his breath, stealing a glance at his brother beside him. Azriel was handling this surprisingly well. If it were Nesta who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, Cassian would not be able to school his emotions so readily. 
“And my master would like to make a trade.”
“A trade?” Rhysand said, displaying more interest in the subject than ever before. This was an opportunity to play Koschei’s hand. To gain whatever knowledge they could from the slippery sorcerer who was gaining more momentum each passing day. Koschei was still confined to his lake on the continent, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. No, not at all. 
Darwynn pointed a knowing finger at Rhysand’s belt where Ataraxia rested as silent as the death that hung over a deep winter’s night. 
“I see.” Rhysand said. 
So that’s what he wants. Feyre spoke to him through the bond, Some trace of Nesta’s power.
Y/n was right. He wants to leave the lake.
And he needs whatever power Nesta took from the Cauldron to do it.
Rhys hummed in thought, one finger lazily tracing the edge of his drink. He knew his sister, knew the power that raced through her veins, and she was not one to be trifled with. But people loved to underestimate her - the poor second child too weak and damaged to fight after losing her wings to the old High Lord of Spring. The female who rested on her brother’s strength and crown like a sapling tied to a stake. She wielded those assumptions carefully. It was perhaps one of her greatest weapons. 
Nine days. She’d been gone for nine days. Nine days since he’d sent her on a mission to the continent to spy on Koschei’s followers. Six days since anyone had heard from her. Three days since her scheduled return. 
Azriel stiffened and blinked - a movement so subtle that only Rhys, Cass, and Feyre noticed. All at once the tension left Rhysand's shoulders. Such a reaction from Az could only mean one thing - you'd arrived.
Rhysand clicked his tongue disapprovingly, taking a deep draught of his wine and muttered, “She’s late.” 
“She likes to be thorough.” Azriel said with the smallest of smiles.
“Even so. I don’t like to be kept waiting. She could’ve been captured sooner. Escaped earlier. Given us notice that she was coming.” He shook his raven black hair.
Azriel smirked, feeling the strength of the bond in his chest. Never wavering, “Maybe she finally decided to adopt your flair for the dramatic.” His golden hazel eyes flickered upward for the briefest of moments and you flashed him a quick smile from where you hid in the mountain rock above.
You’d only just opened your side of the bond, love and reassurance rolling over him like a flood. You were safe. You were whole. And you had carried out your plan beautifully.
Sorry to keep you waiting, my love. I had business to attend to. You spoke to your mate and only him.
I'd wait forever for you. You know that.
He felt your laughter through the bond like the fresh rain.
Who would've guessed the Spymaster's such a romantic.
Only for you. Only for you.
Darwynn narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a thin line as pale as the moon. Something had changed in the air and he couldn't put his finger on it. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He knew the Inner Circle were practiced in hiding their emotions but this… they almost looked pleased. Cassian especially was grinning like a madman, suppressing his laughter as Rhysand sent his thoughts to his mind.
“My master keeps good on his promises. But until you give me the bade, I can’t promise you what pieces of your wife there will be left to bring back.” Darwynn snarled, even as that feeling of dread grew in his stomach. He’d walked in here so confident. He needed to regain that confidence. He relaxed his shoulders. Stood up taller.
A wet thud echoed throughout the hall. Someone screamed - a female with blue-gray skin reeled backward, one hand clamped over her mouth in horror as she tripped over her blood-splattered silks. 
A decapitated head - warm, oozing, and less than a day old - lolled on the floor. Its eyes were frozen in a look of surprised horror. 
Darwynn’s heart stuttered to a stop when he recognized the bloated and bruised face. The face of one of his strongest males, left behind on the continent to watch over Koschei’s prison. 
Rhysand smirked and raised his wine glass towards Darwynn. The High Lord’s power flooded out over the room, knitting together a powerful web of magic that made it impossible for anyone to winnow in or out. Except for you of course - his darling sister who never failed to find the weak points in his magic and slip through as slyly as a cat. 
“There’s something you should know about my dear sister.” Rhysand’s voice boomed over the near-silent room without even trying.
A second head dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. Then a fourth. Laid out in a neat little arc around Darwynn.
“She never gets caught. She is always precisely where she wants to be.” 
Azriel’s eyes were trained on the slate gray arches overheard where he could just barely make out your form as you winnowed around the room, hiding in the shadows and dropping your gruesome packages in a neat circle around Darwynn’s shaking form.
The male unsheathed his sword, spinning around madly and counting every thud until all twelve of your guards were accounted for. 
All dead. 
All of them.
He growled dangerously, eyes beginning to glow a brilliant, icy blue as he aimed his power at the dais, right towards Rhysand. Azriel smiled with cruel satisfaction when you slipped out from behind Darwynn’s silhouette, bloodied and menacing. The knife glinted in the faelight, catching the curve of your arm as you spun around and drove the weapon through Darwynn’s eye. The light wrapping around him fizzled out into anything.
The male rocked on his feet, arms going slack and dropping the sword with a clatter on the ground. His legs gave out soon after, his body crumpling in on itself as easily as paper. 
You calmly rolled down the sleeves of your blood-soaked shirt, flicking a piece of gore off your shoulder in a manner so similar to Rhysand that your brother couldn't help but chuckle. 
You flashed him a grin - a stroke of white brushed across a red splattered canvas. 
“Brother.” You said, tipping your chin up in a show of greeting. 
“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, sister?” Rhysand gestured out to the Court of Nightmares. You spared them a look. Everyone looked positively sinful in their scraps of silk and exposed skin, silent and trembling as their dinners burned their way up from their stomachs to their throats.
You shrugged and winked at Rhys, “I learned from the best.” 
“Go get cleaned up.” He said. It was a clear and direct command, but you didn’t miss the warmth and hint of pride in his voice.
“As my High Lord commands.” You said, bowing deeply. 
At home. Rhysand spoke in your mind as you straightened. Get some rest. You did well.
You sighed in relief, happy that you would be free from whatever Court of Nightmare business left to attend to.
Thank you.
There was a brief pause before Rhysand continued, But next time you plan to get kidnapped, let me know. I was actually starting to worry and I’m not sure my old heart can take it.
You snorted, I’ll keep your elderly constitution in mind next time.
You dipped your head once more before winnowing to the River House. The smell of home nearly knocked you off your feet.
There would be more time to joke around with your brother - more time to tell him everything you’d learned - but right now you were in desperate need of a bath.
______________
You sank into your third bath of the night, groaning in pleasure as the hot water rolled over your aching muscles. The first two baths had purely functioned to scrub off the dried blood from your hair and skin. The majority of it wasn’t yours. But this bath, with all the fragrant oils and scents, was for enjoyment and relaxation.
It was no easy business getting kidnapped, and no easy business escaping. But like every other mission, you’d made away like a bandit in the night, carrying with you priceless pieces of knowledge and enough secrets to demolish an entire court. 
Your eyes flickered open at the feeling of shadows lacing around your arms, soothing your skin with a cool touch that was no replacement for the hands that followed. 
Finally your mate had decided to join you.
You sighed in happiness as Azriel trailed his fingers up your arms, scarred hands landing at your neck and gently tilting your head back so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips.
The bond sang within your chest more joyfully than a songbird. You didn’t like silencing this connection, you didn’t like shutting Azriel out, but sometimes your work necessitated it. It was for your safety as much as his. But no one understood that more than the Spymaster of the Night Court.
“Hello, my love.” Azriel’s voice vibrated through the air, warming your chest and shaking your bones. 
“Hello, Azriel.” You murmured, soapy hands trailing through his raven black hair so that he was completely surrounded by your scent.
“Gods, I missed you.” He said. He knelt on the tiled floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare chest as he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. “I missed you so much." A kiss on your neck, "So, so much.”
“I missed you too.” You murmured, pulling him around to the side of the tub so that you could see him better. You traced the faint purple bruises beneath his eyes. Not an unfamiliar sight. Azriel had never been a restful sleeper, but since mating and marrying you, he’d been spoiled rotten and now could barely sleep a wink without you curled up in his arms. 
“Sorry I messed up your hair.” You apologized, twirling the now damp strands of his hair so they curled around your fingers. 
He smiled. It was a rare sight to anyone other than you, but seeing him happy never ceased to warm your bones.
“You did well, darling.” He said, smoothing back your hair before saying more seriously, “But next time could you tell me your plans before you shut me out?” 
You winced. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time.”
“I figured as much.” Azriel said, kissing your cheeks to show that he wasn’t upset. You leaned into his touch as he traced your cheekbones with his thumbs. 
You were the most precious thing in the world to him. More precious than his wings. More precious than his freedom. More precious than the 500 hundred years it had taken him to finally realize what you were to him. The thought of losing you was more painful than a knife to the stomach.
“You can trust me.” You said, “I know how to handle myself.” 
Azriel chuckled and shook his head, “I am very well aware of both those things,” He tilted his head in thought, “And I’m fairly certain everyone else also knows now.” 
You blushed, “Maybe it was a bit much.” 
Azriel shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is one thing.”
“And what is this one thing?” You asked, leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like cedar and rain. He tasted like home.
“That you should never be afraid of showing your power. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what people say.” 
His hand that had been cradling the back of your neck moved down, tracing the scars on your shoulder blades where your wings had once been. You shivered under his touch, but didn’t recoil. He understood. He was perhaps the only person who understood what it meant to have such a physical piece of yourself taken away. 
You kissed his hands, taking care to feel every valley beneath your lips and worship them. They were a part of him now, tied to him as much as his shadows were, and so how could you not love them? How could you not love him? This male who was your equal in every way imaginable and who made you feel happier and safer than you ever thought possible. 
He helped you out of the bathtub, drying your skin and hair before carefully brushing through all the tangles and knots. 
“I should go report to Rhys.” You said with little determination as Azriel laid you out on the bed and then crawled under the covers beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both under the protective cover of his wings.
“Let it wait until tomorrow. Let me have you tonight.” 
You smiled, “I’ve only been gone nine days.” 
His hazel eyes melted into yours. “Nine days too long, Y/n.” 
You could never deny him anything when he looked at you like that, so full of feeling and a rawness too intense for words. And it wasn’t like you were dying to leave this bed and chase after your brother. Like Azriel had said - it could wait until tomorrow. So you melted into his arms and watched as Azriel slowly fell into a deep sleep for the first time in nine days.
______________
Author's note:
A woman covered in the blood of her enemies is *chef's kisses*
That's it. That's the note.
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starkwlkr · 9 months
Note
Ok this is a bit strange but could you do a Ruby fic where she's scared charles and yn are going to get a divorce because she heard them arguing and she's asking uncle pierre what's going to happen
two birthdays | charles leclerc
sorry for the wait!! here’s more baby leclerc <3
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Ruby knew what divorce meant. A friend from school had explained it to her one day after she said she had to spend the weekend with her dad. Ruby also knew that her parents would never get a divorce, they were too in love with each other. At least that what she thought.
After coming home from school, Ruby heard her parents’ voice in the kitchen. Pascale had offered to pick up Ruby from school since Y/n had just given birth to Mathéo and Charles was taking care of her. The older woman heard the loud voices and knew that Ruby wasn’t meant to hear that.
“Ruby, ma fille, go up to your room. I’ll come and get you in five minutes.” Pascale instructed.
Ruby always listened to her grand-mère so she did what she was told. She hesitated a bit, but she made her way up the stairs and towards her bedroom. She had never seen or heard her parents fight so she was extremely confused. Was her family going to end up like her friend’s family?
“It’s kinda cool because I get two of everything. I get two birthdays so that means I get more presents!”
But Ruby didn’t want two birthdays. She didn’t care if two birthdays meant having more presents. Ruby would rather have no presents.
Exactly five minutes later, Pascale arrived to Ruby’s room. “Guess what?” The woman tried to put on a smile. “You get to stay with me tonight. We can bake cookies, watch Barbie the mermaid one, you love that movie, don’t you?”
Ruby nodded. “Why can’t we watch it here? Papa and maman love it too.”
Pascale sighed. “Your maman needs rest and your papa has work to do. Remember his race is coming up so he has to focus on winning.”
Ruby nodded once more. She didn’t question her grand-mère again so she just began to pack a bag.
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It was summer break for Ruby and for some ‘unknown’ reason (to her) she was on her fourth plane flying to a new location. Each night she would ask Charles to call her maman so she could say goodnight. When she handed the phone back to Charles, she fully expected him to say goodnight as well but he would always end the call.
Silverstone was coming up. Ruby wasn’t sure if her maman and Théo were coming. She wanted them to come since she hadn’t seen them in a while, but it was confirmed by Charles that they were still in Monaco.
When the father and daughter arrived to the paddock, Ruby saw that Kika and Pierre had also arrived. “Papa, Uncle Pierre and Aunt Kika are here too.” Ruby pointed out.
Charles nodded.
Ruby had asked Charles if it was okay if she spent the day with Kika since her maman was home and she knew Charles was going to be busy for a while. Kika happily accepted having Ruby by her side so together the two girls made their way to the Alpine garage.
Kika noticed how quiet the little girl was being. Usually Ruby would run around and talk nonstop, but now she was basically silent the whole time. “What’s wrong, Ruby Jules? Are you cold? I think Uncle Pierre has a jacket you can wear.”
“I’m not cold, Aunt Kika. I’m sad.” Ruby replied as she held Kika’s hand.
“Why? What made you sad?” Kika asked.
“Maman and papa were fighting. Now they don’t talk to each other and I miss my maman.” Ruby said in a low voice.
Kika tried her best to comfort the girl as they arrived to the Alpine garage. She immediately called for Pierre.
“What’s going on? Why are you sad, bébé?” Pierre picked up Ruby in his arms.
“She heard Charles and Y/n arguing.” Kika informed him.
“I don’t want two birthdays.” Ruby admitted.
“What do you mean?” Pierre was confused by what she meant.
“My friend from school said she gets two of everything because her papa and maman are divorced. I know what that means. Papa and maman are going to divorce.” Ruby began to tear up.
“Mon chéri, your papa and maman love each other so much. Sometimes adults argue but your parents are too in love to divorce.” Pierre tried to explain.
“Do you and Aunt Kika argue? Are you getting a divorce?” Ruby wondered.
“Well we have to get married first.” Pierre lightly chuckled.
“When are you getting married?”
“You are very curious today, Ruby Jules.”
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h4m1lt0ns · 23 days
Text
HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.
episode fourteen :: HEAR ME OUT.
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various, lewis hamilton x y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔girl you will not believe who texted y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.
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y/n: i’m sorry who is this?
xxx-xxx: it’s kelly
y/n: ?
y/n: kelly piquet?
xxx-xxx: unfortunately
xxx-xxx: its an emergency.
xxx-xxx: and girl to girl, we NEED to talk.
y/n: OH?
xxx-xxx: i need to see you.
xxx-xxx: will u be at the qatar gp?
y/n: yes!! we can talk there, but is it urgent?
xxx-xxx: i know what you’ve seen from me gives u every reason under the sun to not even want to breath the same air as me but this is for your safety.
y/n: i got you.
y/n: see you tomorrow.
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☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
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y/n: if you’re available for gossip irl raise ur hand
angel carmen: no bc what where you doing with that demon i thought you knew better
princess george: explain pls 😐
chal eclair: hurry up and explain bae, alex is spamming me and she’s fuming 😍
y/n: she’s spamming me too 😭
wifey lily: the girls gc is going OFFFFF
girlfriend kika: for good fucking reason
girlfriend kika: fucking explain yourself y/n
PIERRE GASLYYYY: kika’s so mad i think she might explode 😭
alabono: lily too 😭
chili!: well good thing none of them are here bc y/n would gotten assaulted
angel carmen: yeah
babygirl alex: exactly
girlfriend kika: what carlos said
wifey lily: hm.
y/n: 😟
y/n: meeting in george’s drivers room?
my baby lando: on my way !!!!
chal eclair: we all are
︴# ⸝⸝ : ★ real life ¡ ⌕ ⸝⸝ ﹒ ﹕
“everyone here?” y/n asks as everyone tried to cram in between two chairs and a sofa. “yep” carlos squeaks with charles and lando on top of him on a lazy chair, “yeah, mate” george says, him, alex, and pierre on the sofa while daniel and yuki shared the second chair.
“girls?” y/n looks at her laptop. kika, carmen, alexandra and lily were on a zoom call. “all here” kika gave a thumbs up as y/n sat in the middle of the floor. “girl.” y/n says, “oh, this is gonna be good” lando giggles, “so kelly originally texted me the day champagne, sex and anxiety dropped and i didn’t recognise the number” y/n began.
“i thought she was someone else because the number was unknown but then she was like ‘girl to girl we need to talk’, so i was a bit like, oh?, y’know?” y/n says as she passes her phone to the boys so they can read the messages.
“and when we met earlier, she was like-”
“sorry, did i miss anything?” lewis rushed into the room, seemingly a bit out of breath. “no, it was just about to begin” carmen’s slightly distorted voice says. lewis not so subtly checks y/n out, licking his lips, pierre and daniel give each other a knowing look with charles and lando give y/n a little smirk and she mouths ‘shut up’.
“is that a chair?” george chuckles, lewis placed a chair he had brought with him next to the sofa and shrugged, “well, i knew there wouldn’t be space here” lewis said as he set the chair down. he was about to sit when he notice y/n was on the floor, “wait, you come sit on it” lewis tells y/n.
“no, no, it’s okay” y/n smiles, “doll, i don’t want you sitting on the floor, it’s cold” lewis shakes his head. the rest of the drivers all quietly giggle and nudge each other as the girls text each other something about how lewis was calling you ‘doll’ in front of everyone.
“well it’s here if you need it” lewis says as he sits on the chair.
“guys, hold on, so, what did kelly say?” alex asks.
“yeah, she was like ‘i got your number from max’ phone, sorry to contact you on your personal number, blah blah blah, how was your day?’ all that, but that doesn’t matter” y/n continued, “bro, she’s breaking up with max”
charles gasps, “no, she’s not!”
“did he cheat on her too?” george asks
“here we go again” yuki chuckles.
so many questions were being asked all at once, “boys, shut up so we can understand!” kika exclaimed and the boys quickly settled down again. “they’re breaking up because of me” y/n added and the noise began once more.
“she better not be blaming that on you” lando rolled his eyes.
“what do you mean because of you? you didn’t do anything” carlos frowned.
“i just know he cheated on her” yuki laughs.
“oh my god, all of you shut up!” lily exclaims.
“no, no, wait, max has been, allegedly, loosing his mind. kelly said that ever since they announced their relationship, hes been obsessing over me. to an almost dangerous level” y/n begins again. “define obsessing” george says.
“kelly said that when heartbreak syndrome came out, he was hyper fixated on the songs. he would analyse each song, line by line to figure out which line are about him.” y/n explain. yuki’s eyes widened while charles, lewis and lando physically recoiled. “he also tried to send me a cease and desist because some of the songs were ‘too specific’” she added.
“and also-”
“no, hold on, can we talk about this? because my body had a visceral reaction” lando interrupted with a dramatic hand on his chest. “yeah, that’s a bit much” lewis nodded, pierre muttered something into his hands while carlos looked just befuddled.
“wait, y/n, there’s more? you said also?” carmen frowned. “yeah, so, remember when kelly used to copy me on social media, girl, hold on” y/n got up and began pacing around the room, “apparently, max was forcing her to copy me so she looked like the crazy obsessed one” y/n said, “shut up, no he did not!” pierre said, “girl, yes he did! because he was stalking my accounts with her account” she added.
“what the fuck?” carlos asked and daniel had a frightened look on his face. everyone in the room had shocked looks on their face as they stared at each other. all those months of what seemed like kelly copying and shading y/n was all of max’s doing. “she also said that when i signed with mercedes, he like, lost it.”
“lost it? or lost it?” kika asked, “lost it.” y/n answered. “he was up there breaking things, screaming, crying, just loosing his mind” y/n explained. “heh, he just like me for real” lando chuckled, then everyone glared at him. “i’m so funny” he added.
“did she mention the billboards thing?” daniel asked. y/n nodded as she stood next to lewis, placing a hand over his shoulder. lewis, almost subconsciously, wrapped his arm around y/n’s waist. charles and george smirked at y/n and she gave them a look that said ‘I will throw my shoe at you’. “kelly overheard max literally orchestrating the whole thing on a phone call with the red bull employees, and not only were they going to burn billboards, they wanted to burn the merch stands and my signing booth.”
“okay, what the fuck?” carlos asks again as the girls gasp. “oh? oh, he was serious serious” charles says as he half covered his mouth in shock. “what do you mean the signing booth? you could’ve gotten hurt.” lewis tightened his grip on y/n, as he says with a frown making daniel and alex nod in agreement. “yeah! that could’ve gone really fucking bad” yuki crosses his arms over his chest.
“I wanna say something crazy” y/n began.
“yeah, let’s not…” carmen said, “let’s use our critical thinking, maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t do crazy things!” alexandra sarcastically giggled, “max was doing crazy things and look where that got him” she added. “depends on what the crazy something is” daniel said, “hey! don’t enable her!” kika scolded him making him raise his hands, “i’m just saying that if-”
“I want to talk to max.” y/n said, and everyone went quiet.
“what?” alex, george and carlos asked in unison, looking confused. “really?” charles asked as him, lando and pierre looked grossed out. “woooooow” yuki deadpanned, him and daniel were visibly upset. alexandra and carmen sighed in disappointment and lewis.. looked angry.
“you’re not seeing him” lewis said.
“but–”
“no you-” lewis inhaled deeply before continuing, “doll, he could’ve hurt you. you heard what his girlfriend said.” he said as he stroked her waist. charles and lando smirked at her, “what did I just say?! critical thinking skills!” alexandra frowned.
“y/n, babe, i don’t have the patience.” lily said with a huge fake smile, y/n put her hands up defensively; “but i have a plan, okay, here me out.” she says.
“okay, let her cook-” lando began, only to be swiftly cut off by george, “no! she’s done cooking for today. banned from the kitchen.”
“guys, oh my god, please.” y/n whined, “i just wanna ask him about some things!” she added. yuki sat up, “i’ve been saying, let me speak to him for months but no one is letting me near him.” he crossed his arms over his chest. “you’re gonna stab him, bro, no!” pierre half chuckled, “…fair.” yuki grumbled.
“there is nothing, nothing, that you and that sloth can talk about.” carlos began, “not a single thing.” he added. “but!” lando clapped, “okay.. devil’s advocate-”
“shut the fuck up.” the girls cut him off, and he placed the dramatic hand back on his chest.
“y/n” lewis said with a soft smile as he pulled her on his lap. george and alex elbowed each other while charles, lando and carlos tried their best (worst) to keep their giggles down, and yuki and pierre took photos to send to kika later.
y/n’s heart beat a bit faster and she founded herself at a loss for words, “you’re not safe around him. if there’s something you want to ask him, ask his girlfriend to communicate it to him. there’s no reason for you to break no contact after all he did. he’s disrespected you and your name in public, has stalked you, damaged private property with your face on it, do i need to keep going?” lewis asked.
y/n shook her head, “n-no, you d-don’t” she quietly answered.
“so what are you gonna do?” lewis asked, “not talk to max… privately.” she answered, he was nodding along, then he stopped. “you… what?”
“y/n, i will leap through this screen and stab you” alexandra threatened. “can we hear her out?” lando asked, “no!” the girls jumped at him again, the dramatic hand returned for a third time, “you’re just gonna let them yell at me like that?” he whined
“maybe you should hear me out!” y/n said, and there was a loud, collective of disappointment and annoyance. “and, yes, they’re your aunts, im your mother.” she answered lando.
“listen, next grand prix, all of you can be there, i just wanna ask him about the bullshit that he’s been doing.” she explained.
everyone looked at each other then at y/n, “really?” charles asked, “please?” y/n begged. “i’m in! sounds messy” lando giggled. kika chuckled, “no wonder you’re a PR nightmare.”
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alliddewrites · 9 months
Note
Your pervy character HCs are starting to grow on me… especially the ones where Ghost and König steal readers panties and cums in them and puts them back 👁️👁️ Those gave me the horniest idea!!!what if after the boys ruin the panties after a jerk session and puts them back for reader to find, they then are creepin on the reader and she finds the pair… and reader notices them watching and then reader puts the used panties on!!! Asdfhfghhjkk I need to go to nasty horny jail
We all need to go to horny jail lol
Sorry I only did König, I didn't know how to incorporate both of them.
Reader catching Pervy!König peeping
Content disclaimer:
Smut,
Voyeurism,
Wearing cum stained underwear ig??,
Awkward König boyo,
Female reader
Masterlist
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You noticed the first time it happened. How couldn't you? Unknown white stain on your panties that weren't left there by you, while König is acting even more awkward than usual around you? Yeah… It was pretty obvious…
Now, you weren't mad. Quite opposite actually, you were into it. The thought of the big bad Austrian desperately jerking off with your own already used panties, made you so turned on it was unbelievable.
Before, you didn't do much with the supposed 'gift'. You found it, put it in the wash with the rest of the laundry, then proceeded to get off in your room to the thought of him soaking it in his cum, while your clothes were being cleaned.
But that's not what happened this time…
You had run out of clean underwear, so you were looking for a not so dirty one you could wear for the time being.
What you noticed however, was slight movement in the corner of your eye, exactly where the door to your room was.
You knew it was König… He's been lurking around your room and the showers when you were occupying them. He wasn't as subtle as he thought he was.
When you took a slight glance in the door's direction, your suspicions were confirmed. Through the crack, you were able to see his pretty blue eyes behind his beloved hood.
So he wants a show, huh? You'll give him the show of a lifetime…
You slowly bent down towards the laundry basket, purposely sticking your butt out as much as you could. Reaching towards the cum stained underwear, you picked them up by the sides, stretching them a bit for show.
Right after, you quickly bend down, panties still in your hands, lift one of your legs up and slip into them. The moment it happens, you hear a choked gasp from your doorway.
When you hear the sound you turn towards it and stare right into his eyes.
While you did that, you lifted your other leg up and put it through the other hole, then proceeded to completely pull up the dirty piece of underwear.
Still keeping eye contact, you were able to see the panic in his eyes mix with arousal. It's now or never…
"See something you like, my king?"
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I'm glad people like my nasty writing lol
Sorry it took so long :c
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Note
This has been stuck in my head, and I gotta know your opinion. How do you think Price would react to reader showing him the cringe/perverted dms they’ve been getting from newer recruits?
You know, those, “your husband doesn’t doesn’t have to know, babygirl,” messages.
I imagine the reader being like, “haha look at these idiots,” and laughing about how cringe it is while Price is just like, “yeah haha…” while silently seething.
I really liked this so I couldn’t stop myself from writing a little drabble :3
Totally agree with you though
Word Count: 791
“John, look at this.” You chuckled as you leaned over on the couch, leaning onto his lap as you held up your phone for him.
On it, your messenger app sat open, a message from an unknown number, though given it was sent to your work phone, it was clear it was from someone on base.
Frowning, Price grabbed your phone, pulling it away from his face a bit so that he could actually read.
‘Hey sweetheart.
I’ve noticed you seem lonely during training. I can fix that, if you so wish ;)’
Instantly, Price’s brows furrowed deeper, his eyebrows tightening together as he read your reply.
‘I’m married, thank you.’
‘Your husband doesn’t have to know, sweetheart.
I know the old man can’t do what I can. Let me show you what you’ve been craving. You need someone young to satisfy your needs.’
Clenching his teeth, the captain tried to scroll to continue to read, but that’s where the chat ended - you hadn’t deemed the man with a reply.
“It’s ridiculous.” You chuckled. “The absolute gal of some guys, I mean come on.”
Blinking out of his thoughts, Price looked at you, sighing out a breath as he then gave your phone back. “Who is it?”
You took your phone back, placing it beside you on the couch as you shrugged. “Dunno, just some recruit. I got this after one of the skill tests. You were working with new sprouts while I was evaluating, remember?” You ask, turning and laying down with your head on his lap, your legs over the edge of the couch. “Think he saw me on the sidelines and made his own assumptions about my happiness.” You snorted.
Glancing down at you, Price took in a deep breath, his left hand moving to cradle the top of your head. His mind went back to training that morning, trying to recall the faces of all the men - because it was a man, obviously. A bad one at that.
Softly scratching your scalp to distract you, you went back to watching the television while Price stewed in his thoughts, replaying the messages.
Hell, it wasn’t even so much the blatant hitting on you - he trusted you implicitly so that was not an issue. He knew you were happy with him, he was confident in his abilities to care for you and all your needs, emotional and physical. No, it was the fucking petname.
The bastard had used one of his petnames for you.
Sweetheart. It was something he always called you. Be it to tease or genuine, there was always a good time to use it. But now, even thinking about the word left a vile taste in his mouth.
Sitting in silence for a little while, you were just enjoying Price’s ministrations when he suddenly spoke up.
“You think I’m old?”
“Older than that guy, sure, but definitely not old.” You chuckled, glancing up, seeing the frown that had appeared on his brow as you showed him the messages hadn’t left. “Oh, John.” You coo’ed softly and he blinked, looking down.
“What?” Confused, he stopped scratching your head, just holding as he looked at you, then watching you slowly sit up, turning to him as you shuffled closer until your hip was pushed against his thigh, with you facing him.
“You grumpy from the message?” You teased softly and the captain scowled.
“Fuck no. Just thinking about the training for tomorrow.”
Grinning, you placed your hand on his cheek. “You gonna punish all the recruits just for the actions of one?”
“No.” Price countered, though it wasn’t incredibly strong, with him instead just wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close.
“You’re adorable.” You smiled, leaning in and starting to press sweet kisses all across his face, a little hum leaving the man until you kissed him on the lips.
Instantly he responded, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your head as he then pulled you into his lap, deepening the kiss.
Smiling into it, you pulled away after a moment. “See? Adorable.”
Huffing a little chuckle, Price dropped his hand to your neck, brushing the back of his fingers across your skin. “In your eyes maybe. But you on the other hand need to stop being so damn desirable, sweetheart. Lest I need to set up a fortress to keep others out.”
At that, you threw your head back and laughed, a proud grin spreading on Price’s face as he held your waist to keep you steady while you did.
He knew you were his. And that was never going to change.
He was still intensifying the training for tomorrow though. You know, as a reply message for the recruit. And a warning.
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