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#drop mask soon maybe
youssefguedira · 3 months
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ALSO necromancy ? (diabolik) what is thattttttt
my necromancy diabolik fic is the result of me listening to ballata dell'amore cieco (o dalla vanità) one too many times in a day and brainstorming a fic that is, essentially, what it says on the tin, i.e. the highly canon non-compliant scenario that diabolik Dies on a heist and eva goes slightly off the rails trying to necromance him back to life. fun to think about but i think i need to rework it a bit because the situation itself is very. non-diaboliky.
anyway here's a snippet i wrote when it was consuming my brain entirely:
She doesn’t believe them when they come back two days later and tell her he is dead, that they will kill her too if they do not get what they want. No, instead she laughs and laughs and laughs, because he cannot be killed, she has seen him escape death more times than she can count. Black spots swim across her vision: one of them says something about reducing her dose, waking her up, she’s no use to us like this. She keeps laughing, even when they leave.
They’d taken the cuffs off him to lead him away. That was their first mistake.
She doesn’t believe them even after they stop giving her whatever they’d been using to keep her calm, shivers through the withdrawals for days and shakes her head whenever they tell her he is dead, nobody is coming for you, don’t you understand? He’s dead. You’re alone. Tell us what we want to know.
She doesn’t believe them when they show her the pictures, either. She knows well enough how easy it can be to fake someone’s dead body for photos. The two of them have done it countless times before.
She doesn’t believe them when they take her to see him two days after they tell her he’s dead, not even when she looks at his eyes, staring sightlessly up into nothingness. There is blood everywhere: creative, but slightly too much to be convincing, she thinks. The drugs haven’t quite left her mind completely: she’s dizzy when she stands, when she walks.
She doesn’t believe them until they let her touch the body. She knows well enough how to tell the masks from skin – they’re almost indistinguishable, save for a few tiny details. She knows when she touches the body’s face, brushes its hair back from its forehead where the blood has dried, and her heart stops.
Only then does she believe them. 
She is silent for one terrible minute, unable to tear her eyes away from the body in front of her.
Then she starts screaming, and doesn’t stop.
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waywardsalt · 7 months
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the dilemma of having ideas that would be best expressed as comics but being afraid to draw
#im gonna give it an actual shot sometime soon. maybe in a sort of storyboard kinda look so i can give myself acceptable room for error#anyways. linebeck comic idea. kinda in vein with that ‘everyone on mercay knows linebeck’ had going on hang on#salty talks#i love using mask stuff with linebeck. both in an autism sense and i nthe general sense that he has multiple different outward fronts for#different situations. the idea that he lets other people decide on those masks for him and he goes along w what they might want#to see from him. not really in a people-pleasing way more in a way to get what he wants and avoid getting hurt or. whatever criticized ig#but its to the degree where his actual self is very… repressed? stunted? restless? he doesnt actually act like himself a lot and the maskin#tires him out and drives him to despise others bc he does it as a sort of defense mechanism and to get what he wants so in a sense whats#under those masks has turned into almost like a muzzled beast. hes abrasive and resentful and exhausted and just a lot of pent up nastiness#like there are times when he drops the mask and its fine (like when he does it around link in ph or. like. if hes in a good mood#but a lot of the time that pent up masked resentment is what bubbles up to the surface when hes alone and he finds ways to utilize it#this leads into the idea that all of that pent-up… frustration? with SO MUCH gets wrangled by bellum n used as motivation for bellumbeck#like. i do like the idea that bellumbeck is an awful fulfillment of a lot of things for linebeck. a chance to actually be able to protect#himself in a fight but also a brief outlet for every awful thought he’s repressed and shoved down. some of those bad thoughts being directe#at link ofc like theres a lot of envy and frustration there and it does lead to a lot of the guilt he feels afterwards. i like the line abt#him asking link if he knows he wouldnt hurt him is like him just saying that but also asking himself. like. he was forced to act on bad#thoughts yknow so then hes afraid of what that makes him even if it was forced. anyways. linebeck acting differently to get what he wants#and burying and allowing his actual nature to fester and become resentful until he finally drops that mask shit and airs it out#just some assorted linebeck thoughts here. taking whats a puddle in canon and turning that shit into a sea bc why not. this idea probably#doesnt come across in any of my current fics but i want to do smth with it going forward yknow#linebeck ideas. yippee. idk how far into ooc territory im in now and at this point i dont fucking care cuz im tired of worrying abt it
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intoxicated-chan · 11 months
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Oooh how about Yandere Miguel who locks his s/o away in an apartment like place (it's actually really nice) that's hidden somewhere in the spider society headquarters that only he knows about because he's extremely possessive and he's afraid of them getting hurt. Since they are just a regular human being, there's not much they can do about it. When he checks on them he's all loving and sweet but he's still very controlling. Maybe Miles or Gwen accidentally finds them and attempts to rescue them and Miguel gets PISSED.
Don’t Think You Can Escape
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miles and Gwen continue to run from the Spiders, but at a dead end, they come across something neither of them knew.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Love Taste feat. Jamie Paige & Shiki” by Moe Shop. I’ve got an announcement! Celebrating the movie’s release, I will be releasing my own Miguel O’Hara book! Be on the lookout. Anyways, requests will remain open for a few more days before I close them. You guys have the best ideas!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 2.6k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst, pet names (Amor, baby), blood, bruising, branding, violence, talk of marriage, threats, death, choking…
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“This way!” Gwen shouted, dodging the incoming webbing from the other Spider members.
Miles followed her closely, following her and taking turns that she thought she was familiar with but it led them to a dead end. His head snapped in the direction of their shouts.
Gwen’s gizmo was tossed a while ago, realizing that there may be a chance of a tracker, she didn’t want to take any chances.
“What now?” MIles heavily panted, their voices getting louder by the second.
She takes a second to think, she places her hand on the wall as support but it lights up. She could hear rumbling on the other side, like something turning. She pounded her fist against the metal wall and it was clear that it was hollow.
“Miles, help me open this.” She said.
“Are you sure?”
“We don’t have any other option.”
“Alright then.”
Miles stood on one side and Gwen on the other, they both used their webbing to force the hidden, metal doors open. Both of them loudly grunt as the doors slowly opened.
“One three.” Miles nodded, “One… Two… THREE!”
The two simultaneously jump in at the same time, practically tackling each other. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang and soon, they could hear other voices up against the door. It made his heart drop, yet he relaxed when the voices dispersed.
Gwen stood up first, taking off her hood and mask to take a good look around, “What is this place?” Miles asked her.
She hesitated in shrugging, “I’m… I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw this place on the map.”
“Didn’t think the gizmo had a map.” He stood as well, “Could it be another sector?”
This time, she shrugged, “It clearly wasn’t labeled, otherwise we’d be caught by now.”
“Okay then, what now?”
Gwen looked forward and into the dark but barely lit tunnel, “We keep moving forward.” She walked into it.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Knowing that Gwen knew the headquarters better than him.
The two walk through the long, narrow hallway. It made Gwen shiver and keep her guard up. But she kept her sights forward, following a light that seemed to be peeking out from under the door.
Their footsteps rang and Miles swears he could hear his heart racing. As much as he enjoyed a break from being chased, he began to worry. What happens now? How will he get out? What about Gwen?
All kinds of questions raced through his head… Was either of them going to get out of here?
“Miles!” Gwen looked back at him, worried, “I know that you’re panicking but I need you to focus, everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” Miles huffed, arms crossed, “You saw how freaked Miguel was. There’s no way out of this, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey, we’re in this together. Okay?”
Miles takes a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Besides, we can think of something when we’re inside.”
Miles stopped in his tracks, “Insid-?” A door. Windows, a few feet from the door, pitch black and barred.
“I think this might be the place Peter was talking about.” Gwen smiled, walking up to the door.
“He knew about this?”
“It’s more like suspected. He saw Miguel disappear a couple of times and believed he had a secret place to get away, this must be it.” Slowly she twisted the doorknob.
Miles reached out and grabbed her wrist, “Then are you sure we should be sneaking into a place where Miguel visits.”
“I said suspected. It’s a chance this may now be it and besides, he’s too busy running around the base looking for us.” She ignored Miles’ protest and opened the door, it was unlocked, “Now that’s suspicious.” She mumbled.
The two enter the room. Both of them were awed.
It was like a normal home, furnished well, like any other home. The home smelled freshly cleaned, but plates and cups were set on the table, like someone was expecting guests. While Gwen looked around the rooms, Miles’ attention was to the photos.
It was Miguel, along with a woman. He followed the array of photos. At first, the woman seemed to be happy but as the photos went on and on, he could see it in her eyes… Fear, fear and more fear.
“I always knew Miguel was crazy but-”
“No.” Gwen immediately retorted.
“Didn’t you see the photos, he’s obviously obsessed with this woman.”
“It can’t be him.”
Miles sighed, “Gwen it’s him. This is probably the home to bring her to the base.”
“That’s the thing, she’s already here.” Gwen pointed to a room, “I saw her when looking around, sleeping soundly, too soundly.” It remained silent between the two.
His head snapped to the direction of the door opening, “Hide!” She harshly whispered, pushing Miles into what seemed to be a guest room, and shoving him into the closet.
Miguel entered the home with a heavy huff, slipping off his mask and his hair puffed up a little. He runs his hand through his hair a couple of times before calling out, “(Y/n)! I’m home!” But all he is met with is silence.
But that’s when he hears the slow footsteps, “Miguel?” You groggily spoke, “You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m home on time. Did you sleep?” You tiredly nod, “Did you just wake up?” You nod again, “Awe, my poor baby.” He cooed, welcoming you in his arms.
But you’re too tired to push him away, the house was freezing and you needed something warm. You felt one hand come to your neck and his claws lightly dragged over where used to be your-
“Where’s your necklace?” He demanded the second he felt the open skin, “Where is it?” He growled.
“I-I took it off.” You managed to say, scared that he may dig his claws into you.
“Why?” His voice was like a growl, dark and deep.
“Because it was hurting my neck, it left a bruise.” You cowered. Your necklace was more like a choker. It was mainly black but it had red and blue stripes, along with gold ornaments.
It wasn’t because of the pain you took it off, it was because his last name was engraved on it. It made you feel worthless, like someone’s property. Before you took it off, you began pulling off the small gold pieces and then when he wasn’t home, you tore it into pieces. Hopefully telling Miguel that you didn’t need it or that there was no need.
“You should’ve told me sooner.” His voice returned to normal as he released you from his arms.
“But I did.” You mumbled.
“Where is it?”
“One the dresser.” You watch him enter the bedroom and come back a few moments later, the choker in hand.
“Must’ve been hurting you a lot.” Miguel can see little droplets of blood left behind, “Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get a new one.” Your heart dropped, “I was thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I could go with you?” Your hurriedly asked, “If I can chose a-”
“No.” He sighed, “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You stay here, why can’t you understand that?”
“I’ll stay with you-”
“No!” He shouted, “I’ve given you everything! A home, food, clean clothes! Aren’t you grateful for everything I did for you?!”
Your eyes begin to water, “O-Of course I am!”
“Then why don’t you just listen to why I say no?!”
You jump, “Miguel…” You whimper, “You’re scaring me.”
His blood red eyes soon turned to his beautiful brown ones, they softened, “Perdóname, amor.” (Forgive me, love.) One hand comes to cup your face, “It’s just… It’s dangerous out there, you saw it yourself. Remember?”
“I do…”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“...Why would you hurt me?” You begin to panic, “I-I thought you said-!”
“That I wouldn’t hurt you. I mean it, but when it comes to breaking the rules I set, I must do what needs to be done. I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs. Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I love you.”
His grip on your face tightens when he doesn’t hear the words, “I-I love you too, Miguel.”
It made him smile widely, “Be patient for me, amor. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
And with that, he’s out of the door. Hearing the doors lock, you’re left alone in the empty and freezing house.
You cry on the spot, finally breaking in fear. Your body felt uncomfortably hot, your breathing became staggered and it felt like you were gonna vomit. Your arms wrapped around your body tightly that your nails dug into your sides. Your chest grew right as you fell to the tile floor. Shaking and hyperventilating, your stomach churned as you remembered his words.
“I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs… Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.”
Who knows how long you remained on the ground, all you could do was shake. Your chest stung and your heart raced, you were in pain all over again.
“Um, (Y/n)? Was it?” You let out an audible gasp as you saw the two teens in the room.
You pushed yourself off the ground and hurried away from them, “Wait!” Gwen put her hands up, “We’re just here to help. I’m Gwen and this is Miles.”
“Who are you- How did you get in here?!” You choke on your words, wiping the tears from your red eyes.
“We’re just running from the same man.”
You quickly shake your head, “You guys can’t be here!”
“We would’ve left sooner but… We can’t just leave you here.” Miles kneeled in front of you, “Let us help you.”
“Y-You can’t!”
“Yes we can.” Gwen agreed, “We just gotta pack up and get on out of here. I can get that started. Miles, watch her in case Miguel comes back.”
“How did get like this?” Miles asked, “I saw the photos.”
“...I met him after he lost his daughter and I didn’t think it was right for him to try to get into dating so soon but people grieve in different ways. We were supposed to take things slow but… But he talked about marriage and it made me scared. I tried taking a break but he found me. From then on, it went downhill.”
“I always knew he was crazy.” Miles mumbled.
“He’s great at manipulating people, he owns a business.” You responded. Then you heard a thud outside, “Miles, hide.” You push him away, not knowing where he went.
The door opened and in comes Miguel who doesn’t look pleased, “I heard them.” He starts, “No, I heard him.” He stepped closer, the choker nowhere to be seen, “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat.
“¡No me mientas!” (Do not lie to me!)
“I’m not lying!” You moved back when he reached out to you, “Please, believe me Miguel!”
“Last time I did, you ran out on me! I have every nerve to not believe you.” He pushed you up against the wall, “Where is he?!”
“Leave her alone!” Miles comes around and lands a clean kick, knocking Miguel off of you, “Are you alright?”
“Miles…”
Miles puts on his mask, “Gwen will be right behind you-!” He dodged Miguel’s webbing, “Just run!” Then he charged at Miguel, taking him head on, “Go!”
You got up and rushed out the door, “(Y/n)!” You heard Miguel, “Get back here!”
You run faster. Your bare feet are padding quickly across the cold, metal floor. Then faster and faster until you nearly run into the wall. Whatever hopes you had are nearly gone when you realize that it’s just a dead end.
“(Y/n)!” You heard Gwen, she lands next to you, “I need you to listen to every word. I’m going to open the door and let you out, but it’s impossible for me to go with you. But! There are others out there, they are willing to help you. Just run and I promise you that someone will come for you.”
“What about Miles?” She hands you to the bag she quickly packed.
“I’m heading there once I know you’re out of there.” Using her webbing, she does the same as before, forcing one side of the door open. She grunts loudly, “Go!”
You jump, tumbling on your feet as you hear the door shut. The sound rang through the base and all that was left was silence. Even on the other side of the door. Nothing could be heard.
You stand, looking around. There was not a single person in sight. But you continued walking, walking, and walking… You continued to replay Gwen’s words in your head, not wanting to give up hope. But slowly it died as you continued wandering aimlessly around the base.
“Lonely isn’t it?” You gasp, freezing in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to, “Just like how it’s going to be when you leave. All alone and there is no one to turn to.”
You scoff, keeping your back to him, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more minute with you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do!”
“Come with me and I’ll forget this ever happened, we’ll have a fresh start. Or you can continue with these foolish games. You know that you’re better with me than without me.” Miguel sticks his hand out for you to take.
For every step you take back, he takes on towards you, “How will I know things would be different?”
“You gotta trust me to know.”
You breath hitched when you felt your back hit the wall. Miguel towered over you with ease, and you hated the look in his eyes. Sorry… You hated how soft and apologetic his eyes looked. It also terrified you.
“Where’s Miles and Gwen?” You ask him now that he’s in front of you, “Where are they?”
“You have the nerve to ask me that right now?”
“I do!” You retorted, “Now where are they?” You demanded.
Miguel sighs, “They are in a place where they won’t bother us nor say anything.”
“You didn’t!”
“It had to be done!”
“You bastard! They were kids!” You dropped the bag and pushed him as hard as you could which had no effect on him, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You weren’t there!”
“So?! That doesn’t give you the right to kill innocent children-!”
Miguel’s hands came around your neck in an instant, you felt the heavy pressure. Panic sets in, trying to breathe, doing anything you could do to get his hands off and breathe. Your eyes rolled back as your vision darkened. Your attempts to kick or push Miguel off fail.
Then he throws you at another wall, the pressure knocks whatever air was left and he watches you have a coughing fit. You’re too weak to even crawl away from him when he kneels down, “Why must you be so difficult? Why don’t you understand? After all these years, you still don’t understand that I am the only person who will ever love you.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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angel-of-the-moons · 2 months
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Aggravating
Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader
TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
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You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.
And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.
After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.
(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)
But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)
But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...
Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.
He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.
Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.
And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.
Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.
Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.
But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.
You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.
Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.
You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.
Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.
He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.
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"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.
Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.
The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.
Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.
Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.
You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.
Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.
Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.
You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.
You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.
The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.
Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.
"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.
Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.
"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.
All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.
The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"
"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"
Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.
"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.
His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;
"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"
You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.
"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.
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messylustt · 10 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐦
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. a lot of words.
fic masterlist previous part pt eight next part
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violence + blood + injuries; making out; suggestive content; my god whew — miguel’s hand raises to…what? you don’t know, because the spider society’s alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fights…masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your ‘help’ clearly displaying anger and well…worry, something unexpected happens…you both getting as close as you did before…maybe closer?
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You’re still staring at Miguel, staying close. Closer than you probably should be. And just as his hand reaches up to…to what? What was he going to do?
Because now the alarms are sounding. Followed by the cries of spider-people. You quickly whip your head to the door. And at first Miguel doesn’t look away from you. As if the word ‘emergency’ isn’t registering in his brain. No. He keeps his eyes on you, his lifted hand having to drop away as you rush to the door.
Miguel clenched his jaw, cursing the whole idea of having an ‘emergency bell’.
You’ve reached the door and then the hallway seeing mayhem. Everyone is running (or more so webbing) around, as a fire had started in the centre.
Miguel is soon joining you, just as you spot Miles and Hobie running up. “There you are, mate.” Hobie sighs in relief, grabbing your shoulders as he goes to move you.
“Wh-“ You look around. “What’s going on?”
Miguel narrows his eyes on Hobie’s hands. He knows now’s really not the time to feel petty, but part of him wants to break his ringed fingers. Hobie moves you with him further down the hallway. “If they recognise ya, they’ll wanna kill ya, luv. So, let’s maybe go…ay?”
Your eyes widen. “Kill?! What? Why?”
Miles is hot on both your heels. Miguel not far behind him. Then Miguel notices Miles, brows slightly furrowing. “Why are you here?” He asks, making Miles glance back.
“Uh…I was invited.” He says slowly.
“Uh huh.” He eyed the kid. “By who? Gwen?”
Miles gulps at the look Miguel is giving him. “Yeah…”
“Mm.” Miguel hums, looking distasteful as he walks past Miles, catching up to you and Hobie. “Now we’re letting anyone in?” He mutters to himself with a small scoff.
“Hobie, what happened?” You ask, as he continues to move you, his grip staying on your shoulders. He brings you to the tech room, it appearing empty. You look behind you at the way you came. “I didn’t know you could get here through there.” You mutter.
“Lyla.” You hear Miguel say, her appearing by his shoulder. “What is this?” Though the look Miguel is displaying makes you feel as though he already knows.
“An attack on HQ.” Lyla says, beginning to tap away at her little screens.
“Okay, there are way too many of them.” You hear Pav say, running into the room.
“We held them off as much as we could.” Gwen is close behind. “But their strong. Like freaky strong.”
“Y/n!” Pav exclaims, bringing you in for a hug.
“Oh—“ You weren’t expecting the hug, everything happening so fast, as you slowly pat his back.
“Where were you?” He sounds concerned.
“I was just…” you drift off, licking your lips. “Gwen, whose really strong?” You quickly look to her.
“You remember the men who attacked last time? The one’s with the masks?” Gwen asks, to which you slowly nod, catching on.
“They’re back?” You ask. Gwen nods.
“But they look different.” Gwen’s says—her having seen the ones who attacked you and the tech room when they were in pools of their own blood, curtesy of Miguel. “They’re…”
“Bigger.” You mutter, picturing the masked men that were in Miles’ universe. “Better suits? Strangely taller?” You ask her.
“Yeah…”
“They’ve upgraded.” You mutter.
“Which means they aren’t here for a tiny thief job.” Miguel says, walking past you all to one of the only computers that didn’t get smashed. He pauses though, licking his teeth, as he mutters rather quietly. “Does anyone know the password?”
You hold back your amused smile, as you walk up to the computer. You lean down, tapping at the keyboard. The screen glitches a little, but for the most part it works.
“You’re looking for the security cameras right?” You ask Miguel, still staring at the screen. Lyla was clearly too busy to compute it, so you tap at more keys, bringing up roughly twenty different security camera images.
You zoom in on the middle three, displaying the fire and the masked men. Miguel leans over the desk beside you, staring at the screen. “They started the fire by smashing the tech there.” You point to a far spot on the screen, noticing the destroyed screens and machines.
Everyone had begun to surround the computer. “Why do they want to destroy tech?” Pav ask, as you shift your gaze to Miguel.
His gaze is focused on the screen, and more specifically on one specific ‘masked man’ . You narrowed your gaze on him. Where had he gone earlier? Has he met this guy? How does he recognise him? They all look the same to you.
Green woven—now metal—suits, but still those handmade masks…except now with added metal elements scattered randomly. “Miguel.” You say, making him shift his gaze to you.
You tilt your head, silently communicating that you know somethings up. The raise of your brows asks him why he isn’t voicing anything.
Miguel’s teeth are grinding as he stares at you, silently communicating back. You narrow your eyes upon understanding his expression as one showing he’s not going to voice anything. If he doesn’t have to anyway.
Hobie stares at you two for a moment, blinking. “Can you two read each others minds now? Is that what we’ve been missin’?”
You shift your gaze to Hobie, who’s standing, arms crossed. Then a rather loud scream makes all your heads whip to the computer. A masked man is holding up a spider-person by the throat. But what makes you want to puke is the way his claw is beginning to stab into the spiders chest and running down, tearing skin and other bodily flesh.
Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Miles are quick, rushing out of the room and assumably to the lobby, where the guy’s screams are easily heard. Other spider-people are trying to fight back, but the masked men seem to be knocking them down a little too easily. How are they doing that so easily?
You swiftly turn your gaze to the screen, eyes darting, as your chest heaved. “One of them took it, Miguel.” Lyla says, making you shift your gaze to him.
He’s moving away, most likely to get to the action to help as well. He meets your gaze. “Don’t you dare move.” He warns, before he’s slipping through the secret entry.
What did Lyla say? One of the masked men took what? You look back to the computer, wincing every time a spider-person got hit. Hard. You take note of one guy, his hits extra painful to watch—the one Miguel was staring at. You wanted to help. You wished you could help.
Then you hear the shuffle of metal making you spin. But your heart slows upon seeing Peter and Mayday. Wait…mayday?!
You rush forward, seeing Peter’s frantic expression. “Y/n, Thank god. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do.” He gesturing to Mayday.
“Peter why is she here?!” You’re extremely worried.
“I didn’t know an attack was gonna happen! I would have left her home.” He’s looking behind him, clearly knowing he has to help, but still holding tightly onto an unbothered, babbling Mayday.
You quickly grab her, pulling her into your arms. “Go.” You say. “They need you out there. Go.”
Peter looks hesitant, and you understand why. “I’ll hide.” You say, knowing he’s skeptical because you’re well…human and could barely fight back against those men. Especially if spider variants are getting knocked out.
“They won’t find me. They won’t find her.” You hold Mayday close to you, as she rests her head on your shoulder, her smile still present.
Then Peter is nodding. He trusts you. He knows you’re not one to be stupid. “Go.” You say again, and he moves, rushing out towards the action.
Your heart is beating on overdrive. Holding Mayday tightly, you turned back to the screen. None of your friends were knocked out, injured or…dead. But just as you go to find somewhere to hide—as you had promised, you noticed something.
A small machine, with a switch, it’s almost unseeable through the screen, but you catch it. That isn’t the spider-society’s tech. That’s from the masked men.
No. It suddenly clicks. Why all the spider-people were getting knocked out easy, why they could never sense when a masked man was l close. It was as if someone switched off their spider-sense and strength.
You felt Mayday lean away, using her own spider webs to attach to a farther desk, yanking you along the ground. “Mayday.” You hold her back. Now was not the time. Why did Peter give her her own webs?
You rip the web, pulling her back. “Mayday.” You say making your look at you, hair curling around her face. “You have to stay still. Okay? Just stay in my arms. Then how bout we play a game after?”
Her face lights up. You’d played these games with her, the main two being learning fun handshakes, and the other was hide and seek. “Alright?” You ask gently. She excitedly jumps in your arms. “You gotta stay still, though.” She stills, wrapping her arms around your neck.
You sigh, turning back to the screen. You can spot Gwen looking confused, clearly feeling the effects of not having a spider-sense. Then you spot Miguel. He seems unaffected by the change, noticing the masked men a lot quicker than the other spider people. Then you shift your gaze back to the switch.
The spider variants didn’t know. Shit, shit, shit. You had said you’d hide, to keep Mayday safe. But you can’t just do…nothing. Then you decide something incredibly stupid, like beyond a seeable level of stupid that could turn out terribly.
But you had to try. Because they weren’t winning out there. You pull Mayday away, making sure she caught your gaze. “Okay, Mayday…we’re gonna a play a game now. How’s that?”
She nods quickly, clapping her hands. “Alright…you remember hide and seek?”
She again nods at you, slightly playing with your hair. “I’m gonna count. And you’re gonna hide. Somewhere good. Really good.”
She begins to try and get out for yours arms, eager to play. “Mayday. Find somewhere really good.” She’d always been very good at choosing a hard hiding place. It always took you forever to find her. And you were counting on that.
Then you reluctantly let her go. You wouldn’t be long. You wouldn’t be. “One…” you pretend to cover your eyes, as you watch her waddle away through the cracks between your fingers.
You were stressed. This plan couldn’t go wrong. You wouldn’t let it. “Two…”
You were gonna reach that switch. “Three…”
And now you can’t see Mayday, knowing what direction she ran in, and roughly where she had hid, so that you could rush back to her. You had to be quick.
You ran towards the secret exit, grabbing a loose pipe. You’d rather go out there with a weapon. Loud sounds reach your eardrums when you made it outside the room, but you continued to run.
You couldn’t slow, or take your time. You rushed past spiders, thankful none are noticing you. Just stay unnoticed—you keep repeating to yourself. You reached the middle of the mayhem. And god was it hectic.
You couldn’t let Peter see you. You couldn’t let Miguel see you. You couldn’t let any of them see you. It’s as if you never came here. You ran, skirting past broken tables and machines.
Everything felt hot, the fire still partially there. You held back a scream as a tumbling, fighting duo nearly barrelled into you—it managed to knock away your pipe, but you couldn’t stop to dwell. The switch, the switch, the switch.
You slid to your knees, rushing under a table. You’ve almost gotten punched, and you’re sure a cut is bleeding. But you run, you can now see the switch, and also your friends. They look terrible.
You grit your teeth moving quicker. You’re so close. And just as you think relief is near, a body hits you, knocking you down. You wince, looking up to see a masked man. He tilts his head, blood coating his entire claw along with his suit.
You shuffle back along the floor, trying to get to your feet. But his boot comes down onto your chest, making you wheeze. “Aren’t you that chick who got away?”
“Different chick.” You wheeze out, scrabbling to get his foot off you.
“Nah, I remember the poster they put up in the lab. Your face is recognisable.” He presses harder against your chest. Your hand scrambles to the side, against the dirty floor. Find something. Anything.
Your hand finally clasps around a loose peice of metal. You tighten your hold, the sharpness cutting your palm. You swing your arm across, stabbing it into the guy’s calf.
It goes in deep, resulting in him lessening his boots hold. You manage to roll away, swiftly getting to your feet. He goes to lunge for you again, but your arm shoots out in a punch, right across his face. He stumbles slightly back.
But you seem to be more hurt then him. “Mother fu—“ you hiss, holding your now bruised knuckles. “Shit…why did I do that?” You mutter to yourself.
But you try not to dwell on the pain as you run past him and the others, finally reaching the switch. One hand is bloody while the other is bruised and you’ve never felt more relieved. You push the switch, a small whirring sound reaching your ears.
Then suddenly you catch sight of all the spider-people’s spider-senses turning back on, practically animated. But your relieved smile drops as practically all the masked men shift there gaze to you. Shit.
With all the turned heads, you catch Hobie’s turn as well. His spider-sense now taking note of you. His eyes widen in a mix of confusion, worry and anger? Wow you’ve never really seen him angry before.
Miguel takes note of you now as well now, as you shift your gaze to him, pressing your lips together as you breathe through your nose. Miguel’s expression is downright terrifying. You watch as he snaps one the masked men’s necks as he moves towards you.
You gulp, noticing some of the masked men move to you as well. You swiftly grab the small switch machine, and begin to back out of the room, or at least try to.
And just as a claw reaches for your face, an orange web yanks you aside, nearly making you tumble, but a tight hand wraps around your upper arm. “What the fuck are doing here?” Miguel lowly hisses out.
“Miguel— I have to go.” Mayday. You had to get to Mayday.
“No, no you can’t just go anywhere. You were already practically an enemy to these guy, but oh now they want to kill you.” He says this while slicing his claws across one of the guys throats—having tilted his head back to display the guys bare neck.
“Miguel.” You hiss. “Let go. I have to go.” You rush these words out.
But Miguel didn’t want to let go. You were bleeding, bruised, and almost dead. “Why didn’t you stay put? Why didn’t you stay goddamn put?” He growls.
You’re breathing hard. You had to go, and you didn’t have the time to explain. So you do the best thing you can think of. “I’m sorry about this...”
Your hand had reached for something on the a table, a plate, another peice of metal, whatever it was you knock it across his face. Not to cut, or harm, just so that his grip would loosen around your arm.
And it does, leaving you room to run. And god did you run—fast. You skirted past fighting people, the spider variants finally knocking some of the masked men down, now that the switch was off.
You reached the secret entrance, rushing into the tech room. You kept the switch machine close to you as you rushed to Mayday’s hiding place. You tried to slow your breathing, not wanting to freak her out. You wiped your bloody hand on your pants, wincing as your cut rubs against the material.
You didn’t want to scare her.
You reach the small cupboard type thing, having to lift yourself up. She had clearly webbed herself towards it. But with you being taller than her you managed. You took a breath. Pretending that you had been playing the entire time.
“Oh, Mayday.” You sing songed quietly. “I wonder where you are?”
You neared the closed cupboard door, hearing a faint giggle. You sigh in relief at the fact that she’s still here. You whip the doors open and you hear a small squeak. You scoop her up.
“Found you.” You said softly, earning now huffing giggles from her. She was okay. She was okay.
But then your heart drops. You hear heavy scuffing boots enter the room. No. Please no. Without thinking you rush into the cupboard, shutting the door.
Mayday begins to babble on about something, but you put her head into your neck. “Shh.” You shakily whisper. “Shh.” You stroke her hair. She moves a little, but luckily she begins to relax in your arms.
You can hear the taunting boots near. And you hold your hand over your mouth, quieting your heavy breathing. Please stay quiet Mayday, please stay quiet—you think to yourself, holding her closer to you, as you slide to the floor of the cupboard. It only just fit you both.
Then the door is getting harshly pulled open and your eyes widen. No, no, no. But then just as the masked man comes into view, his body is getting harshly lifted, his feet raising as blood bleeds out from his stomach. Your eyes widen.
Then he falls to the side, revealing a heaving Miguel. Your head knocks back against the cupboard back wall, as you hold Mayday tighter to you. You couldn’t let her see. Any of the blood, you wouldn’t let her see.
Miguel meets your gaze, just as Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Miles and Peter rush to a stop beside him, all staring into the cupboard.
You begin to shakily stand, still holding onto Mayday for dear life. You were scared. Your adrenaline slowly disappearing.
Peter rushes forward taking Mayday from you. He notices there isn’t a scratch on her and Peter is beyond relieved. “Make sure she doesn’t…see.” You say, sounding somewhat out of it as you blink, so your eyes would stay open.
Then Hobie is slipping his arm around your midriff, supporting your legs, as you gulped down arising tears. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of everyone.
“What the hell was that?” For once there is no joke in Hobie’s tone.
Your eyes a blurring, but you wanted to stay awake. You hated how much your body could exhaust. “You were supposed to stay up here.” Miguel is saying, his breathing still heavy.
You know that you arriving back to the tech room, alerted that now dead masked man of where you were.
For once Miguel doesn’t mind that Hobie is holding you. He’s helping you. And though Miguel would rather help you, his hands are covered in blood—Hobie having used his surroundings and web to mainly fight them, his hands being rather clean from the red.
You half heartedly chuckle. “You can just say thanks.” You meet his gaze, a small smile edging your lips.
“Are they…” You drift off, Gwen filling in.
“They left. They aren’t dead. Some of them are. But the others…left.” She says, making you nod.
“Thank god.” You mutter out, the pain finally feeling like it can catch up to you. “And fuck…” You slightly push off of Hobie, shaking your bruised hand. “When were any of you gonna tell me that punching someone really fuckin’ hurts.”
“Well, usually punching someone with a metal head tends to hurt.” Pav says, raising his brows slightly.
“Eh.” You chuckle, continuing to flex your hand.
;;
Miguel didn’t leave your side when you went to medical, you getting stitched, and mended.
“Don’t sleep in here.” He says, gazing around at practically every spider person. The medical was of course packed.
“But the fire reached my room—“
“Not mine.” Miguel says, already slipping his arms around your body—though he keeps his hands, for the majority, off of you. His hands were still covered in blood, though dry, meaning the blood wouldn’t taint you, he still couldn’t.
“That’s fine—“
“Shut up, and move.” Miguel wasn’t looking for your acceptance, taking you to his room.
;;
Once inside, he shuts the door, leading you to sit on his bed. As you did, he had slightly begun to pace the length of his room.
“What are you doing?” You ask, watching his stressful state. “Can you stop?”
He shifts his gaze to you, semi stopping. His body was still tense, his jaw clenched. “Sit.” You say, gesturing to the chair. You narrow your gaze until he obeys, moving the chair to face you, as he took a seat.
Glass still slightly littered the ground, the slight scratch marks on the chair staying easily visible.
You noticed for a moment that he couldn’t look at you. His gaze instead getting caught up with his wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing a thin…bracelet? It was covered in blood, and he had begin to fiddle with it, making your brows furrow.
“What’s that?” You ask. But he still doesn’t meet your gaze, clenching his hand into a fist.
“Nothing.” He says. But it wasn’t nothing of course. It was your bracelet, the one he had found in your rooms doorway, back in your universe when you had went missing.
“I didn’t know you were one to wear jewellery.” You speak light heartedly. But he barely reacts. “Miguel.” You say, sighing. “Can you at least look at me?”
And it’s the slight sadness in your voice that makes him. He looks up and you’re shocked to see a million different emotions swirling in his eyes.
“Why did you do that?” He asks, now not looking away from your eyes.
“What?”
“That.” He hisses lowly. “You were supposed to stay in the tech room.”
“Miguel you do realise that I couldn’t have just stood there and literally watched…right?” You ask, seeing his gaze flicker everywhere on your face. “I saw something important, and thought i should help.”
“But you shouldn’t have.” He says.
“Yes, I should have…” You stand up now. Miguel moves to stand also, but you hold your hand out, making sure he stayed seated. “I want to help Miguel. I want to be of help.”
“Yeah, well you being of help nearly got you killed.” He snarls.
“Exactly the same as all of you.” You say, stepping closer to his seated self. “You guys go through so much dangerous stuff all the time. And finally when I can actually help you hate me for it.”
“Because you’re—“
“A weak human, yeah I got it. But I wanted to help. And It worked…none of you guys are dead!” You exclaim, breathing heavy.
Miguel stares up at you, his breathing close to matching yours.
“That is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Miguel.” You say. “Help.”
“You almost died out there.” His voice had begun to soften.
“And so did you!” Yours hasn’t yet, though.
He couldn’t resist. Slipping his hand under your thigh he pulled you towards him, making your body tumble. He caught you by a second grip on your other thigh, making sure you landed in a straddle over his lap. His legs were still a fraction spread, which made yours naturally spread further around him. This satisfied Miguel’s want to keep those legs spread. Wide and open for him.
He pulled you even closer, your body sliding along his thighs, right up against him. Your heart was beating like a drum in your ears. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was breathe and stare. Stare at Miguel’s piercing red eyes that now practically told you everything he hadn’t voiced yet.
Miguel stared at you, his eyes seeming to hood over on their own. You were yet again, so close. He could taste your breath. And he wanted to. God did he want to.
He’s sure it would taste so sweet. You would taste so fucking sweet. His clawed hands stayed wrapped around your thighs, as he began to lean in, his eyes focused on your freshly wet lips, your nervous habit. You were nervous. He met your gaze once more, before darting his eyes down again. He couldn’t stop leaning in.
Your heart has stopped, having been beating rapidly in your ears. You want to gulp down your nervousness but Miguel is now so close to your neck.
His warm breath fans over your skin as his mouth opens a fraction. His hands ran up your body, to grip around your waist. Then he leaned in, his lips attaching to the side of your neck. You heard him hum, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
His hands begun to slip under your shirt, the feel of your bare skin making him go practically insane. He couldn’t believe it. He began to slowly litter small kisses—at first—his breathing growing heavier and heavier.
Your chest was heaving as he pulled you tighter to him, his lips now pressing harder against your skin. When they turned open-mouthed you could feel the drag of his fangs, his tongue coming down to soothe forming bruises.
Your head had begun to roll back, your hands tightly gripped onto Miguel’s shoulders. “I couldn’t let you die, cariño.” He whisper-groaned into your neck. His panting breath only occasionally felt, because he couldn’t back away from your skin.
His kisses began to lead up to your jaw. You were flushed, your body hot, everywhere. “Miguel—“ you breathe out.
“Shh, I just wanna…I just…” but he couldn’t even finish the sentence as he reached to hover over your lips. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his claws embedding themselves into your hair, as his other hand tightened a fraction around your waist.
Now you’re breathing hard, your eyes slightly glazed over, your mind utterly dazed as you stared at Miguel. “I just want to…”
You gulp. “Want to what?” You quietly asked, your own eyes flickering to his lips.
“I— carajo.” Was the last word he managed before his lips found yours, your head knocking back. Miguel wrapped his lips around your bottom, breathy groans easily escaping him, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His heart was beating on overdrive, nearly at a concerning tempo as he lapped at your mouth.
And god did you taste sweet. So fucking sweet. And he gets to feel you—have you. He doesn’t have a care in the world as long as you stayed this close. Right against him letting him keep you this close. Your tongue dragged across his bottom lip, soon finding his tongue. His head moved to push further against yours, as he swirled his tongue around your mouth.
Then your body slightly jolts. His hand that was gripping your waist had tightened to a point that his claws had cut you a fraction. Miguel immediately let your waist go, realising that his body’s reaction—tightening around you, was to make sure you wouldn’t leave. “I’m—“
But you’re cutting him off with another kiss, slightly raising on your knees, so that his head had to tilt up to stay kissing you. His hands slipped to wrap around your raised thighs. “Tell me you weren’t gonna apologise.” You spoke to his lips, leaning away a fraction.
But Miguel eagerly chased your mouth, managing to pull your head back down, with a swift grip to your hair. “Miguel—“
He shook his head, his lips brushing against yours. “If I say no, will you keep kissing me?” He tilted his head, lips still lightly brushing yours, as his tongue came out to lick your top lip. “Mm?”
“Yea—“ but Miguel cuts you off, kissing you hard as one of his hands stoked up and down your thigh. “Then I’m not sorry at all.” He muttered between kisses. He was addicted. That’s the simplest way to put it. Utterly addicted. “Dios…I’m not sorry.”
Your hands slipped around his neck, beginning to play with the ends of his brown hair, your fingers soon sinking to softly grip the strands. A breathy moan escapes Miguel’s lips at the feeling of your fingers, his mouth opening against your own. A small forming smile edged your lips at the reaction.
“Shut up.” He whispered, smashing his lips back to yours. His kisses had grown even more heated—if possible—spreading across your cheek, his nose brushing against your hair. “Dios, y/n, can I touch you…mm por favor…?” He asks, trying to pull your thighs back down onto him.
But you held your own, staying just out of reach—legs either side of him on the chair. When Miguel would much rather you pressed against him. Of course he was hard, aching almost painfully. “Y/n.” He lowly growled out.
You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up, as you teasingly pecked his lips. “I’ve never seen you beg, give me a moment to enjoy it.”
Miguel clenched his jaw as he harshly pulled your thighs further apart, making you gasp, landing right on top of him. He moved his hands to your hips, keeping you still, as his head slightly leant back at the feeling. “Mm…that’s it…” He whispered out.
You could feel his bulge right under you, making your core ache. Now you felt hot. And as you looked at a breathless Miguel, his chest heaving mismatched you couldn’t help but begin to slightly move your hips.
Miguel’s breathing hitches, his hands gripping your waist. “Y/n…”
“Shh.” You partially mocked, earning a small growl from Miguel. “Didn’t you say I had to do anything for you?” You moved your hips along him, grinding torturously. “This seems like it would certainly help.” Your tone is breathy, as your hips movements sends jolts through you both.
“For a…mission.” Miguel remembers the start of the deal—the conversation—correcting you, through heavy breaths. God, what were you doing…keep doing it.
“Which loosely means for you.” You copy his previous words.
His head slightly falls back. “Mierda, cariño…”
You go to place your hands on his chest, when his head comes back up, his grip slipping from your waist to your hips and managing to stop you. He leans towards your ear. “But do you really think I’m gonna let you grind on me like that? Make me pathetically reach my high with clothes…still on?”
Your breathing hitches. His hand reaches up your shirt again, but pauses by the side of your waist. Then before you know it, Miguel’s holding your thighs—wrapped around him—as he stands. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck thinking you would fall.
Miguel chuckles at the reaction, instead, effortlessly walking with you towards his bed. He leans forward, resting you down as his hands came to cage you in. You’re resting on your elbows, pushing a little higher up. Miguel leans even more forward, so that you’re forced to lean back with him.
“Lie back…eso es (that’s it)…that’s ma’ girl.” Miguel breathes, as your head rests back against his sheets. My girl. His girl. All of Miguel’s previous loud voices, the ones that had quietened when you hugged him have become one. Repeating the words—my girl, my girl, my girl.
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my god, that was a trip. and finallyyyy! AHHH — I hope this is what you guys expected and hope you all liked it
I promise promise promise, I will carry on this smut on the next part <33 it was just getting so long—I couldn’t stop writing (I’m sorry guys I gotta keep eedging ya)
plus since it’s the last part (part 9) next, everything will be concluded, and all mysteries solved! coz that’s just plain cruel if I utterly leave you guys hanging
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witchthewriter · 4 months
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
P.s. this is pre-relationship, when your feelings are still untold...some of the guys are still awkward and some are not :')
𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄
Visiting Price in his office was a common occurance. Sometimes you brought a drink with you, other times you just brought your old tired self.
This was one of those times.
And without looking up, he patted his knee and you hesitated. But only for a moment because as soon as you saw his pen stop scratching on the paper, you stalked over to him.
You rest your head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the goddamn awful day you had. You knew John would want to talk about it when you were ready. It's one of the things you love about him. He wants to help you no matter what.
As if on Instinctive John wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you in closer. Your face was flushes against his neck and your hands cling to his other arm.
John is so warm, and makes you feel so safe. Everyday is a battle for you; because you just want to fall into his arms and kiss him until you can no longer breathe.
But you can't, because he's your superior and you don't want to jeapordise anything.
𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘
Wide-eyed and trying not to move. Even his breathing becomes shallower. It's lucky he's wearing a mask otherwise there would've been a bright red Ghost for everyone to see.
Continues to death glare the others, placing a firm finger in front of his lips. Reminding them to SHUT UP.
No one is allowed to talk when you are asleep in the common area. On Ghost's literal orders.
But he never thought you would actually fall asleep on him.
It was a nice feeling. One that made him giddy inside. Like ... he had been chosen for something important.
And maybe he had. This could be a way for your body to tell Ghost that "I WANT YOU!" But unless you actually tell him, he isn't going to get it - or believe it.
𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊
Warmth travels to his cheeks as he realises that you've practically clung yourself to him and fallen asleep.
He had taken you to the movies because you had some spare time on your hands and wanted to feel like normal people for once.
But halfway through, drowsiness had overcome you, and consciousness faded away.
It was easy to fall asleep next to Gaz, whose smell and gentle heartbeat felt like heaven.
You hadn't wondered if this was going to far, you trusted Gaz enough to tell you if it was. But he would never tell you that.
Because there was no 'too far.' He would do anything for you. He just didn't know how to get you to see that.
𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇
Oh our sweet boy Soap, he would become so goddamn giddy. His cheeks turn red as he moves ever so slowly to look at you.
Watching movies together was a common occurance. Your place or his, it didn't matter. Even the movie didn't matter - though you both argued over it relentlessly. It was a way for you both to spend more time together. A reason to say why you were late for ___
Your head had dropped a little and his eyebrows flew upwards. He would never live it down if you fell straight into his crotch area.
So he moved his arm around your shoulders and let you turn fully around to hug him.
Your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.
"Tha gaol agam ort," he whispers into your hair. You only barely heard it. It means (I love you).
He only ever says it when you cannot hear him. But litte did he know you were catching on to certain Gaelic words. Maybe not at that moment, but you had better hearing than he thought you did.
𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆
Did not know what to do, and in the midst of his panic, he had accidentally wriggled his shoulder. Which meant you curled up on his lap.
"Oh maus..." Konig whispered, afraid that you would wake up and freak out. But if he truly believed that, then he hadn't been paying attention to your friendship at all.
After ten minutes of the movie playing but Konig couldn't stop staring down at your curled form in his lap, he slowly and gently moved the hair from your face. Stroking your cheeks, running his fingers over your nose and forehead.
It was right then that he fell in love with you. Truly fell in love with you.
A monster and his love. That's how Konig saw the two of you.
𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈
Charming, suave, flirtacious and utterly awkward when it comes to you.
He makes as much spare time as he can to spend it with you. And curling up on the couch seemed to be the best idea for today.
His large hands wrap around your form and pull you closer.
"Иди спать, малышка" (go to sleep little one) he says quietly, watching you intently as you drift into a deep slumber.
Maybe there is a gun wedged between him and the armrest, but he knows his lifestyle, and how many people want to kill him.
But that is nothing compared to spending time with you.
𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍
Coughs; yes he actually coughs and a few times at that. Why did he cough? He has no clue. Was he trying to wake you up? See if you accidentally forgot he was there?
In all honesty he was panicking - this wasn't the type of friendship that you had. It was all banter and poking fun at each other.
Someone actually asked if Keegan was being bullied a few weeks ago.
He snorted and just walked away. It was probably the best thing that recruit could've said.
It was after a long mission and you barely had time to undress from your military clothes, when Keegan barged in and held up two family sized bars of chocolate. "As a thank you for having my back out there, kid."
You couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach. But saving face was what you two did. So you took both of the offerings and laid down in bed. "If you're having all the chocolate, I'm not leaving" "I'm not giving it back Keegan." "Looks like you have a bunk buddy then."
And the tall man climbed into bed beside you awkwardly trying to get comfortable. "Jackass," you mumbled. But a slight smile was on your lips. And within an hour you fell asleep.
When you woke up, Keegan was practically ontop of you, melted chocolate on his lips and slight snoring coming from his nose.
𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒
"What the fuck," he mutters to himself as you rest your head on his shoulder on the plane.
You had both been placed on a mission for months and now that it was over, you were exhausted (to say the very least).
The whole time you were together, there had always been bickering. Especially when you were undercover as a married couple.
So you were used to the hostility of Graves (even though he barely had any anymore when it came to you).
Hence, you were way too tired to give a shit. Honestly, if he were to wriggle you off, you would clutch his arm to keep him still.
But he didn't do that. Instead he feigns annoyance and rests his head against the back of his chair. His eyes flickering over to you every few seconds to see if you were okay (if that were to be brought up, he would say that he was looking out the window).
As the time went by, and you woke up, you found that Graves had found your hand and was clutching it.
𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎
Sinks into you as well. His culture isn't so rigid as others. And showing affection means multiple things, but the main thing is that it means he cares.
Where your head lolled on his shoulder, he moved back on the couch, yawned, and pulled you down with him. Your sleeping head was rested gently against Ale's chest.
He knew about your feelings for him, and you knew about his, so this situation was awkward. He knew he had to step up and say something, but it had turned into a game of sorts. As if the first person who spoke up would lose.
But having you on his chest, smelling your hair, feeling the weight of your body on his, he decided that he would happily be the loser.
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shuosen · 5 months
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afab! simon ‘ghost’ x top! amab! reader
cw: tall! reader, unmasked reader, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, hair pulling (r), overstim, slapping
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ghost is a big man. he’s tall, extremely fit, has big hands, big pecs, a big ass- everything about him is just big, so you can imagine his surprise when he meets you, a new recruit- younger than him and leaner than him, but much taller.
After he met you, his fantasies didn’t stop. maybe he’s bigger than you, but you weren’t small yourself. He thinks you could easily manhandle him, use him to your liking, make him a whore, just for you. he found himself wanting more and more, until he finally decided that the lonesome stimulation on his pussy wasnt enough, and he wasn’t going to wait anymore.
he called you in, offered a drink, just to loosen you up, to assure you that you were in no kind of trouble. he urged you to sit on the couch, not the chair, and promptly sat beside you, slinging his arm behind you.
of course, he was straightforward. whats he got to be ashamed of, and what has he got to lose?
“say, C/N.. you into men?” he asked, crossing his legs and swirling the drink in his glass. You almost choked, but not out of surprise, out of laughter. you laughed unceremoniously, pushing your hair out of your face, and leaning to look at him.
“are you asking if i’m into men, or if i’m into you?”
“what does it matter?” He asked, setting his glass down next to him.
“If you’re asking if i’m into you,” you started, letting your eyes run down to his thighs, before looking back to his face with a raise of your eyebrows. “well, i might just expect something out of this visit.”
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Ghost dropped on the bed, huffing out a desperate breath while pulling you towards him by his hands in your hair, the two of you sharing a sloppy kiss, as you blindly pulled at his belt, pants, and underwear. After getting them to his mid thigh, he pushed them off the rest of the way, pulling his mask further up, the heat of the room seeming to rush down on him as soon as your hands found purchase on his bare skin.
Your eyebrows raised in intrigue as you met with his bare pussy, but you didn’t dwell on it any further, opting to grab his hips, and pull him toward you, taking note on the breathy groan that followed, leaning down so you were face to face with his sloppy folds.
chuckling softly as you spread them apart, you commented on how wet he was, before licking a tentative stripe from his hole to his small cock, savoring the taste of his slick and listening to the soft moan he let out. You admired his glistening folds for a few moments more, almost teasing him as he grew impatient, before diving into his pussy, devouring him first thing.
Ghosts legs twitched and closed around your head, and your cock twitched in your pants. suckling on his cock, you held his hips down tightly as they tried bucking upwards, a loud ‘shit!’ being punched from him as you moved down slowly, eating his hole like a delicious meal.
You’d barely gotten started and his legs had already started quivering, so you took it upon yourself and inserted a finger, licking right above his hole as you did. another one slowly entered next to the first, pumping them in and out slowly, the movements of your tongue being complete opposite.
ghost writhed on the bed, his large hands gathering in your hair, his hips twitching shaking. “comin’! come-!” He cried out, biting onto his pale lips. You retracted your mouth, leaning up and moving your fingers, before thrusting them in and out at a fast pace. each thrust of your fingers punched a whine out of him, his back arching from the bed.
“go ahead,” you whispered, pressing down on his stomach to keep him flat, “cum.” he came with a muffled cry, his legs bending and closing around your arm.
“good boy,, did so good f’me, moanin’ like a whore before i even fucked you.”
his breaths were still heavy and stuttering, but he pulled your hair, making you fall towards him with a groan, catching yourself with your hands on either side of his chest, as he locked his legs around your hips.
“fuck me now, and i’ll moan s’m more.” he almost growled, making you grin while grabbing his wrist roughly, and pulling it out of your hair.
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as soon as your cock slipped into his hole, he fell into a dazed state, his red, teeth marked lips falling open as he moaned out, his arms starting to fall off your shoulders. you flinched at the tightness of his hole, your hips stuttering before you bottomed out.
“shit- ghost, s’ fuckin’ tight.” you huffed, adjusting how you were kneeling, waiting for him to come back to himself.
“muh-move, damnit.” he coughed, latching his nails onto your back. you listened well, beginning to slide your cock out of him, watching as your tip caught on his hole, before slamming inside. the moan that escaped him was sinful, and you swear if you could, you’d get the sound tattooed.
“fuckk.” you mumbled with a grin, beginning to slam into him quickly, the sloppy nature of your thrusts being made up for in speed and strength. your hips seemed to fuck into him harsher than he could’ve ever imagined, and he thinks he’ll go brain dead anytime soon at this rate.
your cock brushes against his prostate, and his moans stutter. your thrusts slow down as you angle your hips, before you’re pistoning away directly into his prostate and he cant do anything but scream, his aching pussy twitching around your cock as he cums for the second time. you slap the side of his ass, evoking a loud cry from his throat, before doing it again.
“shit! shi- shit! s’ too much, fuck!” he cries, surprised at himself for being able to make a legible sentence, as his throat feels dry, while producing too much saliva at the same time, and his tongue feel tied. your cock hits his most sensitive spot each time, deeper than he can reach on his own and he swears he might actually go insane, his mind blank and reeling at the same time.
“you can take it- fuck.. you like this, don’t you? being treated like a cock slut.”
ghost whines at your words, his body bouncing with each of your thrusts, and he pushes his hands against the bed, trying to pull himself away from you for just a second- he just needs a break- but you just slam his hips back down on your cock, and he practically sobs.
“i asked you a question.” you huff, slapping his thick thigh.
“i- i like it! oh fuck!” he groans, his knuckles turning white, a contrast to his burning body as he clenches the bed sheets beside your knees, the solid grip on his thighs and hips leaving red marks.
“there we go.” you moan breathily, moving one of your hands to twirl the tip of his cock between your fingers.
“n-no! fuhCK! WAIT!” he moans, his words breaking off into a pornographic whine that sounds too feminine to have come from him. your hips never falter, even as he comes for the third time, his sloppy cunt squirting all on your lower stomach and the sheets. you laugh, slightly shocked as he soaks your abdomen, continuing to play with his dick.
“nuh-noo! cant! u-ughk!” ghost sobs loudly, his hips twitching and bucking, his hands moving to dig into your arm, thick legs shaking against you as he struggles between pulling you closer or pushing you away, wishing you’d at least slow down your unforgiving thrusts into his cunt.
“shh, shh baby, i’ve got you.” you mumble, pulling his head onto your chest, your hips slowing to slow grinds as his noises slow to hiccups and loud whines.
“thats it.. but you’ve still gotta make me cum.” you grin, pecking his lips and returning your thrusts to their previous pace and ghost squeals, his eyes rolling back as another orgasm is ripped from him.
he got what he wanted, but at what cost.
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please like and reblog to show your support! <3
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rainylana · 1 year
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“Hush.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: you find porn under eddie’s bed.
warnings: smut, insecure reader, innocent reader, porno magazine, blowjob, daddy kink towards the end, spanking, fingering, fluff, edging, dirty talk, decrophylia, the causal dominance in this will kill you. i’m in love with this one omg i got so horny writing it help. please let me know what you think!!
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Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to snoop through his stuff, but you knew damn well he looked through yours every chance he got. He was in the shower, and you were freely looking through his drawers, not looking for anything particular. You were just bored. He’d asked if you wanted to join him, and you had just blushed deeply, making him laugh before he tugged off his shirt.
He really needed to deep clean his room, but you knew he wouldn’t. He hated cleaning, hated organizing. Every surface was covered in dust and spider webs decorated the corners. Trash littered the dressers with old pop bottles. You knew he wouldn’t do it, so you figured you’d have to.
Sighing, you started picking up some of his clothes off the floor to put in his dingy hamper, your bare feet sinking into the carpet with every step. You could hear him humming in the shower, his voice echoing off the shower walls. You were able to throw away most of his trash and make his bed, even though you were going to mess it up soon, anyways. You dusted a few tables and even lite a candle. There were a few boxes on the floor that you scooted off to the side. After having nowhere to put them, you pushed them to the bed.
A magazine was peaking out underneath his mattress, and you curiously took it in your hands, eyes widening at the cover. Your face blushed deeply, quickly looking to make sure Eddie hadn’t suddenly appeared back in the room. There was a woman on the cover, a very attractive one that immediately made you self conscious. You started flipping through it, lips parting in shock at the graphic images on the paper.
The first page, a woman tied up. She was being flogged by a man in a mask. The second, another model handcuffed and gagged on a bench. Each page was filled with vile images, yet they made your belly flip flop. Your face burned shamefully. Just as quickly as you had picked it up, you placed it back in its original hiding spot. It wasn’t any of your business.
Yet, you couldn’t seem to force yourself to clean anymore. You sat on the bed, biting your thumbnail anxiously. You suddenly felt very insecure. See, you were a quiet girl. You had friends, but not many. You liked your privacy and alone time. You had many doubts about yourself and Eddie knew it. He tried to help you as best as he could, assure you daily that you were beautiful, his best girl, but you had a talent for letting negative thoughts get the best of you.
“Why the long face?” Eddie announced himself, causing you to jump in your seat. You hadn’t noticed him come out.
“Oh- nothing.” You shook your head, trying to force a smile as you admired his body, nothing but a white towel around his waist. “I cleaned for you.”
“I can see that.” He laughed, opening his closet to find a pair of boxers, dropping his towel to the floor. “If you were that bored, baby, I told ya you could’ve joined me.”
You blushed again, fiddling with your fingers. You were having trouble forgetting the magazine, the women you saw. Of course, you knew they didn’t look like that in real life, but still, the insecurities flooded in. You were new to sex. You and Eddie hadn’t been dating all that long yet, only about six or seven months. Sex was obviously great, but the magazine made you question if he wanted more with you, if he wasn’t satisfied.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie shook the towel against his hair, now clad in black boxers that showed off his prominent bulge.
“Nothing.” You smiled softly, running a hand through your hair. You hated that your eyes started to prickle.
He threw the towel on the floor, watching you questionably. “You look like you’re getting ready to cry.”
“No, I’m fine.” You turned your back, picking at the skin around your fingers. “Just sleepy.”
“You sure?” He asked, coming to sit down beside you. He frowned when your eyes were full of tears. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m okay.” You blinked heavily, waving your hand.
“No, you’re not. You’re crying.” He grabbed your knee, dipping down so he could see your face. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
Your face was burning red, a tear slipping down your face as you sniffled. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well, I do.” He pushed, tucking your loose hair behind your ear. “I wanna know what’s got you upset. Come on, tell me.”
You whined, keeping your head in the opposite direction so he didn’t see you. When he questioned you like this it wasn’t hard for you to break. “I just- fuck,”
Eddie widened his eyes. It was rare for you to curse. You even criticized when he did it. “Woah, there, holy mary,” He chuckled. “Thought we were supposed to watch our language, huh?”
Your face was beat red and you couldn’t stop thinking about the magazine. “Do you think I’m pretty?” You turned to him, eyes full and bright.
“What?” He said confused.
“You heard me.” You blinked. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, y/n.”
You pondered with his answer, looking down at your lap. “Well, I don’t think so.”
“That’s stupid.” He answered without a beat, shaking his head. “Don’t think like that. I don’t want you to. You’re beautiful and you know it.”
“But I’m not like them.” You whined, fisting your hands with a cry. “I’m not skinny like those models. My hairs not shiny like theirs, it’s just a big fucking rats nest!”
Your outburst made Eddie recoil, eyes widening in shock at your admittance, but it out the pieces of the puzzle together. “I take it you found my magazine?”
Your face burned as you nodded.
“Baby,” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you toward him. “Look at me. Hey, come on, look at me.” He tried to find your eyes. “I’m sorry you found that. I shouldn’t have it, I know. I promise you I don’t…well, you know, with it anymore. Not since you and I started going out.” He said honestly, wiping away your puffy tears. “But you know those girls in there aren’t actually like that, honey.”
You did, but it didn’t help. “I know.” You tried to look down but he kept your eyes on him.
“And anytime I’ve ever…used it, I’ve only ever thought of you, I promise.” He assured you, grabbing your hands, his hair still damp from his shower. “I’ve always thought of you doing the things in there. Not the other girls. It’s always you.”
You stared at him, looking for any sign of a lie. You didn’t find one. You swallowed awkwardly. “I only looked at a couple pages.”
“What did you see?” He rubbed your knee, scooting closer so your shoulders were pressed together.
“Uh,” You tried to remember, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “A bench.” You stared at the wall. “A girl on a bench being flogged, and one girl with handcuffs over a man’s knee.” Eddie stared at you, making it much more difficult to say such profound words.
“I’m sorry that it upset you.” He frowned.
You shook your head. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been snooping. I was just trying to clean up, a bit.”
An awkward silence filled the energy between you. Eddie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to scare you. But you were still curious after what he had said. “You said you think of me.” You turned to him, eyes no longer wet. “Is that true?”
He nodded.
“You picture me instead of those girls?”
He nodded again.
“Is that…what you want to do to me? That turns you on?” You didn’t know where this sudden urge of confidence came from, but it shocked both you and Eddie.
“Yes.” He felt a twitch in his boxers, looking at your lips. “The idea excites me.” He knew he had to be careful with he said. You were like a baby deer, anything could scare you.
You nodded this time, gulping as you looked at his chest. “I see.”
“What are you thinking?” He asked quickly. “Be honest with me.”
You liked it, the idea of him doing that to you, it was just scary. You didn’t know how to do it. It would be in his hands, which you were okay with. “It’s intriguing.” You looked at him through wet lashes. “Just..kind of scary, too. Do you think we could try it?”
He couldn’t help but smirk, making your tummy flop. “I don’t have a bench, baby.”
“Well, not that.” You shook your head quickly. “Not that. But maybe..I could, uh-”
“Take a breath.” He instructed you, lifting his chin. “Don’t rush.”
You did as he said, taking a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth. “You could put me over your knee.” You opened your eyes to look at him, body almost shaking with nerves.
“You want me to spank you?” He rubbed the back of your neck, a look in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. It made your stomach twist together. “That’s what you want?”
You thought you might faint. You felt a throb between your legs that made you tremble. “I want you to do what you want.” You shrugged your shoulders.
“No, no,” He shook his head. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s what you want. You’ve gotta be honest with me, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It was what you wanted, you just didn’t really know how to ask for it. He knew you were nervous. Your face was on fire and you were picking at your nails. He rubbed your knee comfortingly.
“I want..” You took a breath. “I want to try what was in the magazine.”
“And what is that, exactly?” He got closer to you.
You swallowed hard, looking down to his lips. Oh, how badly you wanted to kiss him. “I want you to- to uh, to spank me.” You struggled to find the words, choppy and fractured they came.
He put his lips on yours in a desperate, hard kiss, one that knocked you back a ways, his nose pressing against your own. You moaned into him, making his cock harden in his jeans. He loved the sweet sounds you made. He scooted closer till he was right beside you, oh so confidently reaching between your thighs to cup your pussy with his palm. You gasped into his lips, parting away, but he connected them back, mixing his tongue with yours and gritting teeth.
He rubbed you over your shorts, warm and wet. You were so needy for him you wanted to cry all over again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest. His other hand was in your hair, tangling it, while the other stayed on your warm cunt. You grinded into his hand, back and forth you moved, whimpering into his mouth.
He did this until you were worked up enough, moaning into his neck, biting into his skin as your orgasm was off by seconds causing before you could crash, he pulled away. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He whispered into your ear.
“What?” You pulled back, face flushed and voice high pitched. “What-”
“Going through my things was bad.” He tsked, pulling your hands off from his neck. “You knew better, angel, but you did it anyways. This means I’m not doing my job correctly. You’re falling out of line.”
Your mouth fell open and close, trying to find words. “I don’t-”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” He raised a brow. “You’re going to be punished, you understand?”
Your pussy pounded, heart racing, blood rushing. The thrill of excitement went straight to your core. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He repeated. “No. You address me as sir during your punishment, got it?” He lifted your chin, raising a brow.
You quickly nodded. “Yes. Oh, I mean- yes, sir.”
He nodded in approval, patting his knee. “Then get over my knee.”
You looked down at his thighs, then back up to him, unsure. You couldn’t move. Nerves paralyzing you. When your breathing got loud, Eddie frowned.
“Hey,” He grabbed your hand. “You alright?”
“Yes.” You nodded quickly. “Sorry- just, nervous, I guess.” You chuckled awkwardly, brushing away your hair.
“Take a breath.” He rubbed your back. “We don’t have to do anything, baby, I’m sorry.”
“No,” Your eyes widened. “No, I- I want to,” You assured, grabbing his wrist. You knew if Eddie got to thinking about it too much, he’d be too worried to continue. You needed to take action.
“I’ve been bad, Eddie.” You said as confidently as you could. “I think I need to be punished.”
His face drew darker, lips curling. “You have.” He agreed. “Think we should take care of it?” He held out his hand for you to take.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to pull you over his lap, your torso flush against his lap. Your hair fell over your face, the blood rushing to your skull.
“Comfortable?” He patted your back.
“Yes, sir.” Your words made him smile.
He looked down to your backside, rubbing his hands over your shorts. “I can’t punish you with your shorts on, honey.”
You were sure he could feel you throbbing against his thighs. “Take them off.” You said bashfully.
He chuckled at your meekness, pulling down your shorts to find you bare. He gave your flesh a little love tap, warming you up. “You tell me to stop if you need to, alright? This is new for you, baby, don’t overwhelm yourself.”
You nodded. “Yes, sir, I won’t.”
He warmed your skin, littered with goosebumps, rubbing the fat of your ass with his hands, squeezing and pulling. You had to clamp your mouth shut from moaning, already becoming a mess all over again. You were always so sensitive. Eddie always used it to his advantage.
“I’m going to start.” He announced. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
The first smack was light, startling you with a tiny gasp. The second one, still gentle, warming you up. The third was on the opposite cheek, a little harder, but not much. You had to force yourself not to grind yourself on his jeans, your pussy throbbing with such a need.
“Shit,” You cursed, turning into a yelp when he spanked you hard.
“Language,” He said sternly, rubbing the skin he assaulted. “We don’t talk like that, remember? Trying to make you my good little girl again.”
The fourth and fifth spank was harder, enough to draw sounds from you. Six and seven came quick, making you breath heavy, anticipating the next. You were throbbing so hard it was hard to think clearly, a small burn on your backside starting to grow. You moaned when he spanked you again, full handed, lower where the skin met your thigh.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, sweetheart.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “This is a punishment.”
You jumped when his hand dipped between your legs, trailing his fingers through your slit. You let out a loud, desperate moan that made him chuckle. “This really get you going, huh?” He pushed his fingers inside of you, making you squeal, lurching up from his lap.
“Oh, god!” You cried out, being pushed back down by his hand. “God, Eddie,”
“Hush.” He smacked your ass hard, continuing to finger you.
You shoved your hand in your mouth as he quickly finger fucked you, giving you no time to adjust to his fingers. He had his way with you, entering his digits in and out with a loud squelch. You cried into your hand, rocking yourself back and forth into his fingers. He worked you up until you were close to coming, pulling away before you could. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He said sternly, landing two harsh smacks on your ass, continuing with your punishment.
The peak of your orgasm faded away quickly and you sobbed, yelping and jumping as his hand came down harder on your skin. It really wasn’t bad. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength, but your sensitivity was making everything more heightened. Your need for him stronger.
“Are you learning anything?” He switched from cheek to cheek, alternating in steady, rhythmic movements.
“Yes!” You sobbed, your belly flip flopping.
“What?”
“I need to be a good girl.” Your orgasm was coming back just as quick just from the spanking itself. You were going to cum right on his lap. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You reached down to squeeze his ankle. “Spank me,”
He told you not to, but the idea of you coming just from him spanking you? He was hard as bricks. “Fuck.” He cursed, adjusting his hold on you before bringing his hand down again hard. Your whole body tensed on his lap as he spanked you, but the rhythm of the music that left your mouth told him he was doing a good job. “Fucking cum on my lap.” He husked. “Be my good little girl again.”
One more smack down towards your core sent you over the edge. You let out a wail, a shrill gasp that made him stop immediately, thinking he had hurt you. You convulsed on top of him, weeping and sweating as your body wracked with shakes of overstimulation and excitement.
“Oh, god,” You panted, fisting at his ankle. You were completely fucked out of it. Your vision was blurry and your head pounded, body shaking so hard that you thought you could hear your bones shaking.
“Baby?” You could hear him say. “Are you alright?” He grabbed your arm, trying to lift you so he could see your face. “Come on, honey, talk to me.”
You could feel how hard he was against your side, but your pussy was sore from having his fingers lodged up inside of you, too sensitive, but you wanted him anyways. With shaky limbs you crawled off his lap and sank to floor, looking up to him with a ruined face. “Am I good girl again, daddy?” You blinked through wet lashes.
He quickly fumbled with his belt, already struggling to keep his cool. “Fuck, yeah, you are, honey.”
You sat up to wrap your lips around his cock as soon as it was free. He gasped, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you. Your makeup was all over your face, snotty and slobbering. Your tongue swiped at the sides and the base of his cock, your hands coming up to massage his balls. He jumped, trembled in your grasp as he bucked his hips into your mouth. “Ah- god, good girl,” He praised. “Such a good girl. Took your spanking so well for me, didn’t you?”
You gagged around him as he sat up, grabbing the back of your head as he wracked his fingers through your hair. He thrusted just hips gently into your mouth, letting out a load moan that made your tired pussy flutter to life. “Fuck, fuck,” He chanted, his own orgasm building in his abdomen. “You gonna take my cum down your throat, huh? You gonna do that for daddy? Be my good- ah, oh- god, good little girl?”
He praised you as he came, shooting his load in your mouth with a quick flex of his hips. You gargled around him, your strings of saliva drooling out of your mouth. When you swallowed and let go of his cock, he collapsed on the bed where you joined him.
You both laid side by side. Teary eyes and flushed faces, ruined makeup and his cum leaking down your neck, a drop you had missed. And your ass incredibly sore, but buzzing with a sense of something new and exciting. The both of you are too fucked out to say anything, so you just grabbed his hand.
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vivwritesfics · 1 year
Text
"I Know"
Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever
1.1K
Peter Parker x Reader
I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone
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"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.
This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.
"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."
It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."
After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."
“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.
It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”
***
Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.
But not tonight.
“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.
Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.
Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”
They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.
Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.
“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”
With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.
“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”
Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).
“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”
Yes. That was very believable.
But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”
Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.
Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.
Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”
Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”
“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.
As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”
“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.
Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.
“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”
“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”
Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”
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spyder-junkie · 11 months
Text
‘Blowing off Steam’ Hobie/Spiderpunk smut
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When Hobie is feeling the stress of his job and needs to blow off some steam.
Warnings: Penetrative sex, shower sex, cream pie.
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The nighttime air was as crisp as it usually was. Y/n’s room was cold, window open just incase Hobie felt the need to drop by. The past couple nights he had been coming in incsreasingly more hurt, his hands bruised and teeth laced with blood.
As the night began to past, she decided to take a shower instead of waiting up for Hobie. The warm water eased her nerves and calmed her mind as she washed her body. Then suddenly she head a thud coming from her room.
There was shuffling out there, then the door to the bathroom opened and closed.
“Hobie?”
“Hm?” He mumbled, stripping off his mask and boots and immediately stepping into the shower.
“Hobie!” Y/n exclaimed, eyes wide as he wraped his arms around her naked body.
“Baby you’re still wearing your clothes.”
“Didn’t have time to take ‘em off. Just needed to hold you.” He mumbled, pressing his face in the crook of her neck.
“Bad day?” Y/n asked, slowly pulling down the zipper of his spiderman suit. Hobie wasnt hurt in the slightest, maybe that was a bad thing.
“yeah.” He mumbled, beginning to take his pants off. Soon he was naked, still holding her loosely.
Y/n pressed a kiss to his arm before beggining to rub his body down with soap. Hobie groaned as her fingers ran over his shoulders, massaging the skin there.
“Youre so good to me.” He said, leaning down to press his lips to hers. His large hands traveled down to her hips, his thumbs massaging the skin there. Y/n wraped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. She playfully caught his lip ring between her teeth and tugged on it.
Quickly Hobie picked her up, pulling her legs around his waist. He pressed her against the side of the shower, breaking the kiss to nip at her neck.
One of his hands reached down and carefully stroked his half-hard length.
“Hobie I need it.” Y/n mumbled into his ear, her fingers dancing over his chest.
“You need it?” He smirked.
“My baby needs me just like I need her, doesnt she?” He groaned, already sliding the tip up and down her already wet slit. He slid in and bottomed out in one smooth stroke, closing his eyes and relishing in the warmth of her cunt.
“Fuck I might’ve been thinking ‘bout this all day.” He mumbled, placing both hands under her ass and beginning to deliver deep strokes.
Y/n threw her head back, whining and squeezing his shoulder every time Hobie’s tip dragged against her walls.
Hobie pulled his hips back, then slammed into her with a bit of force. He smirked at y/n’s squeak, continuing his actions. His eyes rolled back as she moaned his name over and over, the warm shower water still hitting his back.
“I know, I know.” He cooed, cuping y/n face with one of his hands.
“Mhm, yeah.” He teased, mimicking her moans.
“Youre so beautiful.”
Hobie pressed his lips to hers again, his hand coming down to circle her clit with his thumb.
“Hobie please-” She moaned, hands clawing at his wet back as his thrusts began to pick up speed.
“Cum for me. cmon baby.” He mumbled, angling his thrusts to hit a different spot. He bit his lip as y/n legs locked around his waist. Her walls clamped down on his, her warmth milking him as she came. Hobie groaned loudly, thrusting his load into her until he had nothing left.
He breathed a deep sigh, rubbing y/n’s side with his hand.
“Still having a bad day?” She asked quietly. Hobie pressed his face into her shoulder with a stiffled laugh.
“I cant have a bad day when Im with you.”
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razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months
Text
ᯓ★ "YOU PROMISED!" Adam / Angel! Reader | Drabble
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ᯓ “Dad, watch out!” Charlie’s piercing scream filled the air as she reached out, trying to grab her father’s arm to drag him away from the oncoming attack. Yet she was all too late, watching in horror as an exorcist, one that utterly ignored any commands given, drove her spear through Lucifer’s back and out his chest; Missing his heart by near inches. “No!-” Lute shouted, standing injured on the rubble of the hotel with wide eyes, staring down the scene. Yet Charlie barely heard her as her ears began to ring, tears welling quickly in her eyes as she stared down at the scene, helplessly. As she watched her father helplessly look down at the spear that had been driven through his back and chest, his breath suddenly heavy as the pain hit him all at once.
There was a yell of frustration that came from the exorcist as they drew their weapon out harshly, causing Lucifer to hiss in pain, before they stabbed it right back through before he could turn to defend himself. Golden blood patterned on the ground, stained Lucifer’s clothes as the weapon was twisted and yanked back out again, accompanied with a sob. Yet, before the spear could impale the Demon Lord himself once more, Charlie had yanked her father out the way, causing the angelic weapon to dig its pointed tip into the ground; And Charlie, now kneeling next to her father trying to help him to hold his wounds, winced at the strength that kicked up sediment and rocks. Silence sat heavy in the air, Lucifer’s gasps and Adam’s struggle being the only other noises besides the sobbing, as the exorcist held onto their weapon for dear life. Charlie was sure they were about to scream out some sort of blood murder, she can see the intent shaking their very core and yet it was cut short as they were grabbed and yanked away from their weapon; Which still stood upright, buried in the rubble and gravel. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Exclaimed Lute, harshly grabbing onto the exorcist’s arm, tugging them once more towards as her glare pierced down at them. And all she got in response was a shaky gasp, followed by what sounded like them choking on their own tears. Charlie glanced down at her father, watching as he tried hard not to seep into the weakness. Vaggie rushed over as soon as she could, sliding down when she was close enough and ended up at Lucifer’s back. A quick conversation and panicked struggling as Charlie and Vaggie help Lucifer shrug and take off his jacket, allowing for Vaggie to tie it around his wound to keep pressure. And Charlie couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder back to Lute and the exorcist, holding in her breath as she noticed that Lute had snagged off the Angel’s mask to only stare at them in horror. And Charlie barely missed the way that Adam also stared at them, standing by the mouth of the crater, hand pressing down into his wound, as he stared; Charlie was so sure she had never seen him so pale and terrified. 
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“What… what are you?” Adam’s breathless voice reached your ears, and you could feel as his eyes scanned over your face with some sort of horror, or maybe fear. Yet, all you could do was choke out a sob, your tears falling heavier down your face as Lute dropped your stolen exorcist mask, backing away from you. “You shouldn’t be down here…” She would stare, equally as horrified as Adam; Who she glanced over, making sure she hadn’t missed a memo of a meeting. Yet the way Adam slowly crept towards you, wincing in pain he tried to hide, made it apparent that she had not missed anything, “Babe, you should not BE down here.” Adam’s voice grew hostile, but you had a hint that it was more out of anger for himself; Adam always prided himself on keeping you safe with these exterminations, he also prided himself on knowing every Angel that worked on his crew… and you just happened to slip through without him noticing. He should have caught you! He should have known you would come and should have stopped you! He should have– he shouldn’t let you see him like this. Weak. “Adam,” You started, voice cracking as you stared at him, “Adam… You PROMISED you would come home and I came along just to make sure and THIS IS HOW I FIND YOU!? ADAM WE HAVE A KID!” You shouted, standing your ground as Adam paused in his tracks, staring directly at you with this wide-eyed look.
And you hope it was realization that dawned on his stupid face and nothing else. Because you sat here choking on your own tears, having stabbed the Devil himself just to try and save your own husband when he promised he wouldn’t get hurt. When he promised you he would make it back home to have dinner with your son. When he promised- “YOU PROMISED ADAM!...” “I FUCKING KNOW!” Was his only response for a second, his eyes drawing down to the ground as though he was searching for some sort of answer. You could tell he was keeping in the tears that threatened to spill, “I fucking know… I…” And yet his words fell short, hanging in the air with no explanation of the state you just found him in. With no sort of explanation of what he was possibly doing down here, getting beaten up by Lucifer himself! When he said this would be like any other normal extermination, and in and out, a quick cleaning of the damned souls. You loathed Adam for downplaying his mission, you were infuriated he would lie to you just so you wouldn’t worry, and yet all at the same time you were relieved he wasn’t lying dead in that crater. That you didn’t have to pick up his body to bring back and have to explain to your son why his father wasn’t coming home. So, no matter how much your blood was boiling, you still found yourself walking over to Adam and pausing in front of him, watching as his eyes flickered from the ground and up to you, not being able to give you an excuse. But you didn’t want an excuse, you just wanted an apology and to get your idiotic husband to a hospital before he might actually pass out from blood loss.
So, you cupped his cheeks and brought him a little closer, “I’m… mad at you, but we’re going to talk about this later. Maybe when you’re not bleeding out all over the floor okay? Let’s just… get home.” You would mutter, hoping Adam would just agree and not argue, saying his job wasn’t done and he still needed to kill some bitch. “Babe, these bitches fucking just disrespected!-” Adam would start, yet quickly hushed as you grabbed one of his wrists and began to drag him away, “Ow! Ow, Bitch! I’m injured, be more fucking gentle would you-” “It wasn’t a request Adam we’re fucking going home before you die on me!” You shouted back at him, causing Lute to pause and glance over at the others; Slightly unsure what to say as she noticed them watching you dragging off Adam like he wasn’t just killing and slaughtering them. She would take a side step before spreading her wings and quickly following Adam and you, calling for all the exorcists to fall back. Though there was a growl that escaped her lips, and she knew that this battle wasn’t over. But she also knew the battle to get Adam to the hospital had just begun, because even while literally bleeding out he wouldn’t admit he was about to pass out and die from blood loss. His ego was too inflated for that shit; But she trusted you to get him the help he needed, even if you had to force him into that hospital room.
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Home | Masterlist
ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
Hi! I would love to see Steve being really affectionate with shy reader? Maybe at the beginning of their relationship when everything is really „big” for reader? Only if it’s something that you like. Lots of love and thank you! 🩷
Thanks for requesting!
Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 745 words
Selfishly, Steve has an easier time being brave when you’re so clearly the nervous one. 
“So this guy, he wasn’t being a dick or anything,” he says, fingers loosely intertwined with yours as you walk down to the 7-Eleven, “but he just wouldn’t leave Rob alone. Couldn’t take a hint, you know?” 
You hum. Your hand starts to slip in his, and you tighten your fingers almost imperceptibly. Steve adjusts, taking your hand more securely in his so it doesn’t happen again. A bit of pink tinges your cheeks that he doubts has much to do with the warm weather. 
Steve doesn’t mean to fluster you, but if he waited on you to make the first move there’d be no moving at all. That said, he doesn’t mind flustering you either. You get this sweet, startled look on your face and sometimes you try to hide behind your hair so that he gets to move it away. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand to soothe you, and you press your lips together like he’s done something far more brash. 
“What did she do?” you ask.
“She told him we were dating.” 
“What?” You laugh, the sound starting up a pleasant buzzing in Steve’s chest. “But she tells everyone else you’re ‘platonic with a capital P’.” 
“Exactly!” He shakes his head, grinning at you. You smile back for half a second before your gaze drops to his chest. “He’s gonna find out as soon as he brings it up to literally anyone, and then she’s gonna have to cover her ass all over again. I don’t know why she does this to herself.” 
“Maybe she’s panicking,” you muse. “Just, like, saying the first thing she can think of.” 
Steve guesses you’d know something about that. The first time he’d tried to ask you out, he’d suggested going to the drive-in and you’d blurted that you didn’t watch movies. 
“Maybe,” he says, unable to mask the amusement in his tone (and not trying very hard, if he’s being honest). 
You look at him curiously, then shy at whatever you see in his expression. “Oh, I forgot.” You duck away under the guise of digging through your bag. “I got this off my neighbor’s tree today.” 
You hold a peach out to him, and Steve thinks he’s going to melt on the spot. His heart feels all heavy and made of mush. “No way.” His voice is soft, reverent. “You stole from your neighbor for me?” 
He takes the peach from you, and you immediately turn from his gaze, pretending to adjust your bag over your shoulder. Steve knows you didn’t really forget to tell him earlier; you just hadn’t wanted this display in front of your roommates. It’s cool. He’s fine with adoring you in private. 
“I didn’t steal it.” The smile is evident in your voice, and Steve waits until you turn back to shoot you the best one he’s got in return. The pink spreads to your ears. “I asked. They always say they have too many to eat by themselves.” 
“Still.” He thinks about mushing a kiss into your temple, but even Steve’s not feeling bold enough for that yet. He settles for wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s sweet, thanks.” 
“It was no problem,” you murmur, tilting your head so your hair curtains your face. 
Steve is gleeful at this development. He reaches forward with his other hand to brush it out of the way, hooking what he can behind your ear. Your eyes flit to him bashfully. He knows he’s smiling like an idiot, but he can’t help it. It’s just the way his face likes to be around you. 
“Well, I appreciate it,” he says, then decides to put you out of your misery. “So, what kind of slushee are you gonna get?” 
“Mm, dunno,” you reply softly. “You?” 
“Blue raspberry every time.” He nods certainly. “Never wavered since I was a kid.” 
“I don’t think I’ve tried that one,” you say. “I usually get a coke and cherry mix.” 
“You can try mine,” Steve offers. 
“You don’t mind if I sip from your straw?” 
“I mean, I was thinking you could just kiss me to taste it,” he says. And fine, now he might be stirring the pot a little bit. It’s worth it when you put your face in your hands. Steve squeezes you tighter against his side, affectionate. “But that works too, yeah.” 
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earlgreyflowers · 10 days
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Ok but we NEED a prequel public sex with Oscar, maybe the first time Logan watched/joined in?
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A/N I was in the middle of writing a Carlos fic that will be coming soon but I wanted to give you guys some Oscar content again so here you go
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You always loved coming in with Oscar on Prema shoot days, a permanent smile on your face watching him interact with his teammates; Fred and Logan. The two had welcomed you with open arms the first time Oscar introduced you, with you and Logan sparking a quick friendship.
There was something inherently sweet about the American, always taking time to ask how you were doing and get to know you. Oscar loved seeing your friendship blossom, happy that there was someone to keep you company when he was busy in front of the camera.
Today you sat behind the camera, watching as the threesome film a blindfolded eating challenge for the Prema YouTube channel. The striking red of the team practically burned your eyes but the boys looked so cute in their team kit, especially Oscar. You had to stifle a laugh each time Oscar got frustrated when the boys weren't guessing the items correctly, his face an absolute picture.
Part of you loved coming here to see the contrast between the Oscar everyone else knows and the Oscar that's reserved for you. This version of your boyfriend was lovable and hilarious, awkward in an endearing way. Whilst that is the version of Oscar that drew you in, you couldn't deny that the other side of Oscar is the one that got you hooked. The Oscar you knew now, the one who practically folded you in half whilst he pounded into you at night, was your dirty little secret.
Even now, when he glanced over at you, innocent smile on his lips, you could see the naughty glint in his eyes as they traveled over your body. You'd worn a skirt today, planning on convincing Oscar to sneak away for a quickie somewhere, but in this moment you were regretting it. Oscar's thirsty look had your thighs clenching together, a movement he couldn't miss. He was thankful his two friends were blindfolded, unable to see the way he was practically drooling over you.
Oscar was snapped back into reality by Logan's guess at the food stuff, bursting out laughing at how wrong he was.
When filming had wrapped up, you found yourself sat opposite Logan in the Prema canteen. "I don't know what happened to your taste buds Logan but you were awful at that challenge." You tell him, giggling when he glares daggers at you.
"I was not," the American replies, "They just gave us really hard foods. Honestly, give me a good burger and I'd be able to explain it perfectly, you just watch." Logan defends, barely able to make it through his claims with a straight face.
Oscar joins the pair of you, slipping a drink in front of you as his now free hand glides over your exposed thigh. Your legs squeeze together, the hitch in your breath masked as you take a sip of your drink. “What are you guys talking about?” Oscar asks.
“Y/N thinks there’s something wrong with my mouth.” Logan laughs as you fight to keep your legs open under the table. Oscar smirks, “Maybe we should ask that girl from the other day.”
Your eyes widen at his statement, gently hitting him on the arm as Logan blushes. “Oscar man, no need to expose me like that in front of a lady.” He stammers, avoiding eye contact. Oscar chuckles, “Trust me, Y/N doesn’t mind, the two of us heard everything anyway.” You can’t help but giggle as Logan fights back a smile.
“I hate you guys.” He laughs, before pulling out his phone and leaving the two of you to your own private conversation. Oscar’s rough hand is a welcome addition to your thigh, sending goosebumps over your skin with each stroke of his thumb.
He leans in to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before dropping his mouth to your ear. “Did you wear a skirt on purpose today sweetheart? Did you have a dirty little plan in mind this morning?” He questions, the teasing tone to his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
You shake your head, glancing over at Logan and hoping he can’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. Oscar hums in your ear, clearly disagreeing with you.
“Now I don’t think that’s true, I think you wanted me to be able to touch you whenever I want today. To slip my fingers under that little skirt and play with your pussy, I bet you’re wet already aren’t you?” He whispers. You bite your lip in response to conceal a whimper, his thumb gliding against the fabric of your dampening underwear.
Your toes curl in your shoes at the sensation, hand squeezing into a fist around your phone as Oscar slips your underwear to the side. To anyone watching it looks as though Oscar is resting his head on your shoulder, interested in whatever’s on your screen.
In reality he’s swiping his thick fingers through the growing wetness pooling between your legs. His slick fingers circle your clit and your stomach clenches as you barely conceal a moan. Logan glances up briefly at the small sound but furrows his eyebrows in confusion when it seemed you and Oscar hadn’t noticed. He shakes his head before returning to scrolling through Instagram.
Oscar smirks as he watches his friend return to his activities, one of his digits now slipping inside your pussy ever so slowly. “I bet you’d just love it if he noticed, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Oscar whispers, lips grazing your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek in disguise. “Absolutely dripping for me, or are you soaked for him? Huh? Do you want Logan to know what a dirty little slut you are?” He continues.
You barely contain your whine, teeth digging into your lip so hard you're certain you'll break the skin soon. Oscar’s finger slides in and out of your pussy, your cheeks heating up as the very faint sound of your juices reaches your ears. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the smirk spreading across Oscar’s face, proud of himself for getting his girlfriend in this state.
He curls his fingers, applying to pressure to that one spot that makes your eyes roll. In an attempt to not react that, your body forces a new reaction, a knee jerk reaction that causes your leg to slam into Logan's own leg underneath the table. His head shoots up at the pain, eyebrows scrunched, "What the hell was that for Y/N?" He practically hisses.
"I'm sorry," You stutter out, Oscar's fingers still not stopping their motions. "I, uh, I didn't mean-" Before you can finish your sentence, a brush of Oscar's hand against your clit sends you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your eyes screwing shut as you slam your hand over your mouth. Oscar continues to watch you, ignoring Logan's wide eyed stare.
You keep your stare to the ground, unable to look at Logan across the table. Oscar's other hand lifts your chin up to face him, "It's okay baby, you did great, Logan won't judge you. I promise." He whispers gently, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Your eyes slowly travel over to meet Logan's, a clouded look of lust taking over his pupils. "
"Did what I think just happened, just happen?" He murmurs, swallowing thickly as he awaits the answer. You nod shyly, a prickly heat coating your cheeks as you blush. Logan's tongue peeks out to lick his lips, now hyper aware of just how dry his mouth is.
"Can I see more?" He asks, turning to look at Oscar. The Australian sits there smugly, looking at you to see if you have any qualms. When he sees nothing but excitement in your eyes, he returns his gaze to Logan.
"Meet us in our hotel room tonight, I'll text you the room number." Oscar tells him, before standing from the table and extending an arm to allow you to join him. The pair of you walk away, not sparing a glance back at Logan, who remains seated at the table under he truly grasps what he just witnessed.
"Holy shit." He mutters to himself, squeezing himself in his trousers before rushing off to his room to resolve his new problem.
467 notes · View notes
roguelov · 9 months
Text
Let Me Help
Summary: On a mission with Miguel to stop a variant of Doc Ock, you accidentally inhale something you shouldn’t have. You actively try to ignore these burning desires raging through you. However when Miguel notices your odd behavior, he finally confronts you. A confrontation that leads to this thing you need most: him.
Word Count: ~6.6k
Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)
Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, fem!masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, oral (fem!receiving), doggy style, multiple orgasms, slight praise kink, voyeurism, cockwarming, switch!reader, switch!Miguel), smut with some feelings, unestablished relationship, mutual pining
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MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY
The salty harbor water splashed against the algae covered docks of the warehouse district. Smog of the city filtered into the already cloudy night sky. The sea and city - cars and boat horns - clashed together in an odd cacophony. Your nose wrinkled as the sting of salt mixed with newly poured asphalt.
On top of a warehouse, you and Miguel stood side by side overlooking the massive, old and rundown, area. Another anomaly was plucked and dropped off in a universe where they shouldn’t be. The Spider-Man, Peter W. Parker, of this world was unfortunately and temporarily subdued by the anomaly, a variant of Doc Ock. Peter was completely paralyzed from his encounter and was resting back at HQ as a team tirelessly tried to work on an antidote for him.
“Be careful,” Miguel warned.
“Always am,” you smirked under your mask, before leaping off the building to search the west end of the docks.
Miguel scoffed. Yet, his eyes watched you intently as you landed on another building. You slipped inside one of the broken windows and disappeared from view.
He paused, hesitating for a second, then turned away.
Searching through your area, the anomaly wasn’t in the first building. Or the second. You hoped, sending out a small prayer to the universe he was in the last building. If not, maybe Miguel had more luck than you.
The last warehouse was filled with wrecked boats strewn up on lifts, scattered repair parts, and half broken shipping crates. Moving around, your footsteps were light, and unheard. Nothing creaked, and dust barely moved. You tried a few office doors only to find them locked, or rusted shut. Sighing, you knew of another way to enter and luckily they all lined the edge of the warehouse.
Outside once again, you carefully scaled the building approaching the first set of windows. Brown paper covered most of the dirty glass, yet one window had no covers. The paper was luckily torn back. Peering inside, it was a packed room.
A manager's office was reinvented. The desk was pushed to the far wall. Crates piled into the room, acting as other workstations. Old and battered scientific equipment, some even haphazardly thrown together, filled the desk and crates. Cracked glass - cups, beakers, and vials - were scattered about. Scraps of tarp were laid across the floor and hung from the walls as if for protection. A harsh pungent smell soon assaulted your nose. Your face scrunched up in disgust. Chemicals, any and all so it seemed, were carefully placed into rows on the floor and on top of crates. While vials lined a chipped wooden shelf, poorly screwed into the wall. Each one a different color, and labeled with a system you didn’t comprehend or care to understand.
It was crowded, an office turned into a makeshift lab.
Yet, your eyes fell back to the obvious man taking up the cramped space.
If you could call him that.
He was an experiment, a genetic splicing, gone wrong. He was a human on top while stormy blue grey tentacles were his legs. Strangely, he moved so easily. The appendages carried him with perfect posture, and also effortlessly reached for material around the homemade lab. As a tentacle slithered past your view, you quickly noted the tips had black barbs.
You carefully pushed on the window to thankfully find it unlocked. You crawled through and softly dropped in. But, he was somehow alerted to you.
He whipped around, beakers and vials with unknown liquid swayed in his hands. Massive goggles were strapped around his bulging inky black eyes. Tubes of water wrapped around the side of his neck over gills. A torn, stained lab coat hung off his bare torso. Yet, despite his somewhat menacing appearance, he cowarded at your presence. A whine, a bubbling of water, erupted from him.
You raised your hands, hoping to calm him, “Hey, hey, there’s no need to be scared. We’re just going to get you back home, okay?”
As if proving your point, he glitched. He groaned, leaning into a wooden crate. His massive eyes locked with yours. He violently shook his head. “No, I’m not going back.”
“I’m sorry, but you have to. If you don’t you’ll destroy yourself and possibly this universe.”
“No!” He immediately threw whatever vial he had in his hand.
You easily dodged it, but it splattered into the wall behind your head. A sickly sweet aroma filled your nose. You coughed, waving it away. While you were distracted, he fled. He moved with surprising agility, and squeezed through a small air vent.
“Shit.” You coughed one last time. You pressed your watch, calling Miguel. Clearing your throat, you said, “Miguel, I found him. Far west end of the docks, and he’s on the move.”
“Understood.”
You stepped forward and the world tilted. You quickly stumbled into the crates. You grunted as a dull ache rolled through you. Clenching your jaw, you shoved down the pain.
Not now. We will deal with this later.
You dove through the window to catch Doc Ock who was scrambling down an alleyway. His tentacles made a distinct ‘thwap’ as he ran away. For a moment, your vision blurred. Your grip loosened as you slid down a few inches down the brick wall. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head. Everything cleared again. Ignoring the obvious signs, you fired a web and swung down into the alley.
Miguel, however, beat you to it.
Landing in the alleyway, Miguel stood over the now unconscious Doc Ock. The red glowing webs secured around his torso and tentacles. You let out a silent thanks.
Miguel turned around, and approached you. “Are you okay?”
His voice reverberated throughout your body. Your heart leapt into your throat. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. “Yeah, I’m good.”
His eyes trailed over you. You were breathing heavily, why? Did the two of you fight? How did this anomaly slip past you?
“Ready?” You asked, already opening up a portal.
“Yeah,” he muttered, grabbing the anomaly.
After dropping off the anomaly at HQ, you said your quickest farewells and practically ran back home to your universe, to your apartment. Your chest started to constrict horribly when Miguel was nearby. It wasn’t the giddy childhood crush you were already accustomed too, but this deep heart wrenching ache of desire.
It frightened you.
You had to get away from him.
Returning home, you found your city basking in the moonlight. Neon signs and billboards flickered in the distance. And the usual rush of cars quieted down just enough for most of the city to fall asleep. However, sleep would not come tonight for you.
You tossed and turned endlessly. Your heart raced, like a hummingbird in flight trapped in a cage. Sweat beaded over your forehead. The dull ache from before started to move farther south of your body. You groaned and arched your back.
What … what the hell is this?
You rolled over, burying your face into the pillow.
We’re fine. It’s fine. It’ll pass.
It didn’t.
The moon, with its siblings of stars, fell and the soon burning and bright sun rose over the horizon. Yet, these sensations never wavered. Dare you say, they intensified. Your sheets were kicked off the bed, pillows tossed across the floor in fits of rage, and your clothes skewed and damped with sweat.
Fuck.
Your body ached horribly.
Hot flashes surged through you in intense waves. You groaned, curling into a tight ball. However, it was the growing heat between your legs that was becoming unbearable. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together. The minimal friction, basically nothing, caused you to moan.
“Fuck,” you whimpered.
Shower. A cold shower might help.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. You turned on the show to the coolest, and still comfortable, temperature. This should help, hopefully. Stripping out of your sweaty clothes, you hopped in. You hissed slightly. The water was a shock to your overheated, clammy skin. Pressing your palms into the shower wall, you dunked your head under the water like a poorly done baptism. You needed to cleanse yourself and your unholy thoughts.
You forced yourself to stay there. You gritted your teeth, and squeezed your eyes shut. The water pounded over you. Each drop were needles: sharp, quick, and irksome. But, standing under the water, you were still unbelievably hot, still painfully aroused.
Screw it.
One hand skimmed down your body between your legs. One swipe over your soaking folds and your knees nearly buckled. Still holding yourself up with one hand, and hunched under the running water, you slowly dipped your fingers inside yourself.
And immediately, his face appeared behind your closed eyes.
You could easily conjure up a scenario, and you happily indulged in your fantasy.
He was in the shower with you. Still bent over, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. His chest pressed firmly into your back. His skin was so warm compared to the cool water. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. His thick fingers were inside you, it was his fingers bringing you to your release.
You moaned, pumping yourself faster.
“That’s it,” his voice whispered in your ear. “Just like that.”
“Shit,” you hissed.
“Come on,” he encouraged with a light chuckle. His hand brushed up your sides to your breasts. He gently pinched and played with your nipples. “Come on, cum around my fingers.”
You curled your fingers, making your walls flatter. You whimpered. The sinfully wet sounds mixed with the water rushing over you. You were close, far closer than you expected.
His lips skimmed down your neck. “That’s it, almost there.”
You bit your lip. You quickly flipped yourself around, supporting yourself with your back to the shower wall. Your other hand played with your clit, swirling around, as your fingers worked faster. It was messy, it was desperate. A whine rumbled in the back of your throat.
“Oh, please, cum for me. You’re so close, I can feel it.” His fingers curled, beckoning you towards your end.
It built and built, then it all snapped so suddenly and forcibly. You came hard around your fingers. “Fuck,” you hissed out.
He hummed, working you through your orgasm. “There it is.”
You leaned heavily into the wall, panting and dizzy from your rapid orgasm. You closed your eyes for a second, and let the water wash everything away.
Meanwhile, a familiar looking portal opened up in your bedroom. Miguel stepped out with a tension wrought into his shoulders. His mask retracted and his crimson eyes slid over your room, your messy room. He raised an eyebrow, surveying your room. The one thing that concerned him the most was you weren’t here.
Where were you?
“Fuck.”
Miguel’s head whipped over to the closed bathroom door. He heard you so clearly. He almost moved, almost burst through the door, but he stayed rooted in place.
Why couldn’t he move? What if you were in trouble, what if -
The shower turned off. He heard you move around, and he saw your shadow flash under the door. If you were moving, then maybe nothing was wrong. Then without warning, the bathroom door swung open with a resounding bang.
Miguel flinched, startled by the sudden noise.
Water still dripped down from your hair and down your face. Hunched forward, you propped yourself up with one hand on the doorframe. Your chest heaved. You gulped down air as if you ran a marathon. You wore only a baggy shirt which clung to your still wet skin. Your eyes swiveled over, instantly clocking Miguel’s unexpected presence.
Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here?” You asked, ignoring his initial question.
“You haven’t responded to my calls.”
You glanced over to your watch, blinking on your nightstand. “Sorry, I was busy.”
His eyes trailed over your body. Concern filled him. He repeated, “Are you okay?”
“Just dandy.”
His lips thinned. Why were you like this? So goddamn stubborn sometimes. “You don’t seem fine, especially since our mission last night.”
“I’m just tired,” you huffed. “And a little sore.”
God, even now your body was still aroused. And with Miguel being here, it was making everything so much worse. Your fantasy from only moments ago was seared heavily into your mind.
He needed to leave before you did something you regretted.
Miguel sighed, crossing his arms. “Are you sure? Did -“
“I said I’m fine.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever.” So be it. He pressed a button on his watch, opening up a portal back to HQ. He paused. He clearly wanted to say something, but didn’t. He stepped through without uttering another word.
You wanted to call him back, you wanted to shove him onto the bed, you wanted to him and happily bounce on his -
You groaned loudly, rubbing your hands over your face.
Dear god - universe, whatever - just someone save me from myself.
You reluctantly crawled back into bed. Maybe, the shower helped. Maybe, with Miguel gone you could rest. Maybe, this was all over.
Maybe, you were just delusional.
Tonight was no better than last night. In fact, it was probably worse. Fantasies of Miguel flooded your mind, and you couldn’t satisfy yourself no matter what you did.
You will find a solution tomorrow.
There had to be one.
The next morning, before the sun properly greeted the world, you pushed yourself up and out of bed. You had an idea on where to start. Not bothering with your suit, you kept your baggy shirt and pulled on an old pair of sweatpants. You slipped on your watch and opened up a portal to HQ. You marched directly towards the area where all the anomalies were being contained. Containers lined the area as their chorus of voices begged to be released. Your eyes swiveled around, trying to locate the one anomaly who had any possible explanation to your current endeavor. But, you couldn’t find him in the sea of people. Getting frustrated, you turned your attention towards the person operating the ‘Go Home’ machine.
“Spider-Byte.”
Margo, the purple holographic girl, whirled around. She smiled only for it to falter given your appearance. You were obviously and very plainly pissed. You glared icily, unable to calm yourself. Worst of all, every time you moved, pain and pleasure rolled through you.
“Whoa, are you -“
You cut her off, “The Doc Ock, the one Miguel and I brought in yesterday, is he still here?”
“Uh.” She brought up a screen and tapped on it. “Yeah, he’s still here but not for long. I’ll have him back home in a few hours.”
“I only need a few minutes. Just point me in the direction where he is.”
Margo did so without question, she gestured down a row of anomalies. Mumbling your thanks, you spun around weaving down the aisle until you finally saw him. You stomped over and pounded on the container.
“What the hell did you do to me,” you gritted your teeth.
The man blinked owlishly. “I’m sorry - oh, oh! You! Oh, this is fantastic! I’ve been hoping to see -“
You slammed your fist again. “Answer me! What the hell did I inhale!”
He shrank, and squeaked. “Oh, uh, that’s … that’s complicated.”
“How so?” You sneered.
“Well,” he fidgeted, his tentacles squirming around. “I don’t know exactly what I gave you.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I … I was experimenting with my toxin and - and I was constantly adding new compounds to it or trying to rewrite it.”
You clicked your tongue, and raised an eyebrow.
“And well, I was trying to make it stronger, more of a deadly venom than a paralyzing agent.”
“And so you don’t know what you gave me or what was in it?”
“… no … I needed more time to study it.”
“Fantastic.”
“Well, what are your symptoms? Tell me, what are you feeling? Any discomfort? Any pain? What about hallucinations?”
He was like a giddy child.
“Oh, yeah definitely some discomforts,” you sarcastically replied. You shook your head and turned away. He shouted after you, but you simply ignored him. It took all of your strength and willpower to not break through the containment and pummel him.
Taking calming breaths, you swiftly left the area. Passing by all the anomalies, each of them shouted at you as you tried to think of a way to make this suffering end. Peter W. Parker apparently was still in the medical wing dealing with his paralysis. So, time seemed to be the only reasonable solution you could think of. And it had been a day, surely it would wear off by now.
Even if you felt worse every hour.
“(Y/N).”
A hand curled around your wrist.
A fire unfurled in the pit of your stomach by such a delicate touch. You shuddered. You kept your head trained forward, and your back to the last person you wanted to see. He couldn’t see you like this.
Not now, not after yesterday.
“What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, then took in your disgruntled appearance. “You look like …”
Horrible? Like shit?
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, tugging your wrist out of his grasp.
“Clearly,” he sarcastically replied.
You bit your tongue. Dear god, his voice. So smooth, so rich. “I’m tired, okay? So, I’m just going home.”
“Wait -“
“Good day, Miguel.” You pressed a button and stepped through the portal.
Miguel clenched his fists. He was about to chase after you when Lyla appeared saying others needed him. Begrudgingly, he left. But, this wasn’t the end for him. He will get a proper answer from you.
You sighed deeply, standing back in your room alone. You collapsed forward onto the bed. A muffled groan erupted from you.
I can get through this, I’ll be fine.
An hour passed.
An ice pack, barely cold anymore, laid across your forehead. Your pants and underwear were discarded. You constantly tugged on the collar of your shirt and fanned yourself. Your body ached. You wanted to claw at your skin, you wanted to rip your hair out, you wanted -
You wanted Miguel. God, you wanted him terribly. You wanted him to bend you over.
“Just like that,” you imagined he would coo as he slipped his cock inside of you.
You tried pleasuring yourself, but nothing helped. Nothing satiated you. This swelling sensation only became more and more intense.
You hissed and curled up onto your side. The ice pack slid off your forehead. You lazily picked it up, tossing it onto your nightstand. Your eyes blinked slowly. You stared blankly at the wall, trying to focus on something - anything. Anything but the dampness between your legs, anything but your spiraling perverted thoughts.
Move.
Do something.
Call for help.
You languidly pushed yourself up, and hunched forward. Your head fell into your hands. Your chest continued to heave and tighten. Your heart pounded and rang in your ears. “Fuck me,” you muttered under your breath.
“Only if you ask nicely,” Miguel chuckled.
You shivered.
Almost summoned by your thoughts, yellow and orange lights burst to life behind you. You twisted around. A portal opened up, and a familiar hulking figure walked through: Miguel. Seeing his face, your heart sank. You whipped back around, unable and unwilling to face him.
Why? Why the hell was he here?
He squinted, seeing your decrepit posture on the edge of your bed. “Still fine I see.”
You rolled your eyes. “What do you want? I’m trying to rest.”
Miguel shuffled over. “I came here to see why you’ve been acting weird.”
“It’s nothing.”
He sighed, a short disappointed sigh. He lowered himself onto your bed. A notable gap was between the two of you. Yet, you could feel the heat roll off of him. You unconsciously leaned slightly towards him, desperately seeking him out.
“Talk to me.”
I’m worried about you, he thought.
He hadn’t stopped worrying. You were constantly on the forefront of his mind. Most of all, he wondered why you were avoiding him. Why were you locking yourself away in your room? What happened?
You stayed silent.
Miguel gently rested his hand on your shoulder. “Look -“
You flinched. You leapt away and hastily took a few steps away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
One touch and your body nearly crumbled.
His hand fell. Shock evident on his typically stoic face. His fist clenched. Anger was now getting the better part of him. “I’m trying to help you.”
You hugged yourself, keeping your back to him. “I’m - I'm fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He stood up. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” you repeated harshly.
Miguel clicked his tongue. He had enough of your constant dismissal. He grabbed your shoulders and whirled you around to finally face him. You gasped. He stared intently down at you, dissecting and analyzing you. You were panting, your skin glistened with sweat, and notably your pupils were completely dilated.
“What -“
You jerked away from him. And you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.
Oh. Oh.
Miguel’s cheeks darkened faintly. He placed his hands on his hips, and glanced away. He cleared his throat, “How … how long have you been like … like that?”
You crossed your arms, and sighed. There was no use hiding it anymore. “Since our encounter with Doc Ock.”
His eyes flickered up. “So, he did do something to you.”
“… yes.”
“Which was?”
“He … he threw some substance at me and I accidentally inhaled it.”
He rubbed the spot between his brows, a common place for his headaches to start. “And why did you tell me?”
You tsked and sneered, “Oh sorry, boss, I can’t come in today. I can’t focus or do anything because I am unbelievably and painfully horny.”
God, this is humiliating.
Miguel sighed deeply, dropped his shoulders. “Well, maybe Doc Ock can -“
“He can’t help. I already confronted him, he was just a mad scientist who didn’t know what he created.”
He shifted his weight side to side. “Well, have you … you know …”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Miguel, we are not having this conversation.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes scanned over you again. God, he couldn’t deny that you were absolutely delectable right now. His mind ran rampant with impure thoughts. It was the way your lips parted as you breathed heavily, it was the way your body squirmed, it was the way you desperately tried to bury the noises ready to jump out, it was the way you adamantly avoided his gaze, it was the way your hardened nipples poke through your shirt, it was the way how he could smell you and your arousal.
He wasn’t blind to your beauty. He was simply ignorant to his feelings and attraction. He buried it deep within him, unwilling to acknowledge any of it. But, seeing you now, seeing the discomfort you were in, seeing you in such a needy state, he wanted to help. He took a cautious step forward, “Maybe I can help.”
You snapped your head up, staring wide eyed at him. “What?”
“I said maybe I can -“
You shook your head and backed yourself away from him until your back bumped into the wall. “No, no, what needs to happen is that you need to leave.” Swallowing down such desire, you closed your eyes and muttered, “Just go.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Fucking hell.
You shouted, “Just get the hell out of here!”
Miguel didn’t respond. Cracking open your eyes, his gaze bore directly into you. It was a searing gaze. Your knees nearly buckled under the intensity. He stepped closer.
“Please,” you whispered, practically begging. “I - I … just … just not like this, not because of my dumb mistake.”
He froze, and his eyebrows knitted together.
Your gaze dropped to the ground. You couldn’t - and wouldn’t - look at him.
He slowly continued to walk towards you. You forced down a whimper. Sandwiched between the wall and him, he gently grabbed your chin. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut. It pained you immensely to fight so fiercely against your desires and needs. He tipped your chin up. “Look at me.”
You kept your eyes closed, and your face scrunched up.
“Por favor, cariño. Please, look at me.”
Your heart flipped at his unusually sweet tone. You opened up your eyes, and was immediately greeted by his strangely, endearing, rosy crimson eyes.
“Good,” he murmured.
Oh, fuck.
Biting down on your tongue, you forced down any noises that almost dared to crawl out. You dug your nails into your palms. You wouldn’t dare touch him because if you did you wouldn’t let go.
“If I didn’t care for you in this way, I wouldn’t be here. I would be back at HQ working on a cure, on some antidote.” His other hand reached out and rested on your hip. He drew you close, flushing you to his chest. “But, am I at HQ right now?”
You didn’t trust your voice. You simply shook your head, a small twitch.
“You’re right, I’m not. I’m right here asking - begging - to let me help you.” He bent his head down, brushing his lips over yours. “Please, I want to help … I’ve … I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Miguel.”
“Please.”
You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t … I don’t know what’ll do. I don’t know if I can control myself.”
He slowly pulled up the hem of your shirt. His hand skimmed across your lower back. He laughed once, “I can handle it. Please, let me help.”
His fingers lightly touched your skin. A groan rumbled in the back of your throat. “I don’t want you to think differently of me,” you whispered as your eyes dropped to his lips.
Your excuses were hollow now.
He moved his head, letting his lips brush over your neck. His hands snaked further up your back, and his talons gently scraped down. You moaned, arching your back into his touch. Your hands latched onto his biceps, squeezing them.
“My opinion of you won’t change,” he muttered into your neck. His leg slid between yours. Your swollen clit rubbed against his massive thigh.
“Fuck,” you hissed, clinging onto him.
“Just say yes, cariño.” He nuzzled his face into your neck. “I want to help.”
You cupped his face, looking directly into his eyes. His eyes were begging, pleading, for you. You brought him down, giving him a sweet, loving kiss. He hummed, wrapping his arms around you. However, you quickly broke the kiss before he could truly enjoy it.
Miguel didn’t understand. How would he know? He inadvertently poured gasoline over the already raging fire inside of you. Your eyes darkened. You pushed Miguel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he flopped backward. He held himself up on his forearms, stunned by your sudden change.
A smirk curled over your lips. A beast, one you had been holding back for more than a day, was finally unleashed. Locking eyes with him, you slowly stripped out of your shirt - your only article of clothing - letting it dramatically drop to the floor.
Miguel’s eyes greedily drank in your naked figure.
You crawled onto his lap, straddling him. You pushed him down so he laid flat against the bed. His hands instantly rested on your waist. You hovered over him, planting your hands on either side of his head.
He looked up at you with absolute adoration. He could not describe how thrilled he was right now.
You bent down, kissing him passionately. As you took the lead, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. Miguel hummed. He brought your hips down, making you grind down on him. You moaned into the kiss. Breaking apart, you muttered, “Fuck.”
You peppered kisses all over his face, and across his jaw. You desperately wanted to trail your lips all over him. It was such a ravenous feeling. You needed to mark him, to bite him, to taste him.
“Take the suit off,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his jaw.
He let out a pleased sigh. The digital suit retracted with a whirl of colors, revealing himself to you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your inner thigh. Your lips brushed down his neck. He tilted his head, allowing you better access to do whatever you wished. Your heart soared. You slowly - teasingly so - kissed the crook of his neck. His grip on your hips tightened. Like a switch, you attacked his neck. Your teeth scraped across his sensitive skin. You nipped all along his neck needing to mark his skin. Oh, it excited you to know that these bruises would be under his suit tomorrow. Your tongue swirled over soothing any pains.
Miguel moaned.
What a beautiful sound.
Stopping your attack on his now blemished neck, your lips trailed further down his body. You kissed over his chest, occasionally biting his skin. Your eyes flickered up, seeing his head tilt back. You ran your teeth over his nipples. He groaned. You licked up his chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You kissed up his jaw to his ear, and gently nibbled on his lope.
Miguel clenched his jaw. His heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t expect to ever be here like this with you. He surely didn’t expect the control you quickly had over him.
And oh, he loved it.
Lifting yourself up, you teasingly rubbed his tip across your dripping folds. He groaned, almost whimpering.
“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned.
At such a simple movement, you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how long you would last. You wanted to draw this out longer, you wanted to have more fun with him, but you couldn’t.
You needed him. And you were nearly insatiable.
You slowly sank down on his cock. Miguel hissed. You placed your hands on his chest, panting. Miguel soothingly rubbed his thumbs over your hips. You moaned, feeling how he stretched and filled you. No one made you feel this full or good. As you bottomed out, you swore under your breath.
Miguel chuckled to himself.
But, his amusement was cut short when you started to move. Lust flooded back into his veins. He moaned out your name. His talons popped out and dug into your hips.
You set the pace, a nearly brutal but wondrous pace.
And Miguel thought you looked divine.
Your head tilted back to the heavens. Your lips parted as you whispered his name like a prayer. Your body arched like an angel soaring up, like a renaissance painting. Your hands traced up your hypnotic body, playing with your breasts. He wanted to draw you back down, he wanted to shower you in kisses, he wanted to flip you over and pound into you. But, this was all for you. You were the one who was affected by something strange, you were the one to take the lead. You rolled your head, glancing down at him. A soft smile tugged on your lips.
Oh, the way you looked at him, the way you bounced on his cock, the way your eyes softened with affection, he felt his heart was going to explode.
His cock twitched inside of you.
You hummed.
You rolled your hips, and he swore in Spanish. Smirking, you changed the pace. It was slow and easy - just to have your fun, no matter how short lived it might be - then flipped to hard and fast - desperate to reach your end. And your end was coming quickly.
You happily split yourself and continuously moaned out his name. “Miguel,” you moaned, dropping your hands back on his chest. “I - I won’t last much longer.”
Miguel felt your walls clench around you. He gritted his teeth, and moaned. “That’s okay, that’s okay,” he whispered.
He helped you, lifting your hips along with your movements. He slammed you back down right as he bucked his hips up, grinding you further onto him. You gasped and swore.
“Fuck, Miguel, keep doing that,” you whimpered.
He smirked, enjoying your sounds. Moving you faster, you pounded on his cock. Your nails scratched across his chest in red ribbons. The coil tightened and tightened in the pit of your stomach.
You whined.
Miguel wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and lose himself in the feeling of you. But, he also wanted to watch you come undone. So, he watched hungrily.
It was getting sloppy and erratic.
You closed your eyes. You dropped your head, tucking your chin to your chest. But, fingers gently guided your chin back up. “Eyes on me,” Miguel murmured. “Please, I want to see it.”
You melted into his touch, then he bucked his hips right as you went down. The coil snapped. Your walls clamped down around him as your orgasm crashed through you. You moaned out his name as you stared down at him with hooded eyes.
Miguel clenched his jaw. Oh, what a sight. His cock jumped.
Your movements, however, didn’t slow down. You wanted Miguel to cum, you wanted to feel it. You grabbed Miguel’s face and forced him to sit up. You kissed him heatedly as you still rode him. Miguel hummed. Your fingers threaded into his dark curls, and yanked on them.
He whined.
Your eyes sparkled. “Come on, Miguel. Cum for me.”
Miguel shivered. Your words, your body, it was so wondrous. He bucked his hips up, cumming inside of you.
Finally stopping your relentless movement, you dropped your head onto his shoulder. Both of you were gasping for air. Your eyes flickered down, seeing the mess you both created.
You shivered.
Miguel, however, surprised you. He flipped you over, landing you on your back. You gasped. Before you could do or say anything, Miguel dropped to his knees onto the floor, yanked your body down the bed, then nestled his face between your legs.
He devoured you like a starved man.
Your lips parted in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back. You arched your back, and tangled your fingers into his hair.
He wanted to taste you. God, he dreamt of this so many times. Although, he didn’t dare admit it out loud. He groaned. He lifted one of your legs, tossing it over his shoulder. His hands fiercely grabbed your thighs. His talons scraped along your inner thigh. He buried his face deeper. His nose brushed over your already sensitive clit and you cried out. He growled, the taste of you and him on his tongue was divine.
“Miguel,” you gasped.
He forcibly pulled himself away, panting. His chin and lips were covered in mixed juices. His eyes were lit with primal desires. He smirked, flashing his fangs. You scrambled up. You grabbed the back of his neck, smashing your lips to his. You easily slipped your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around. You hummed in delight, tasting him and yourself.
You still wanted more.
Needed more.
The residual of whatever affected you still lingered.
You pulled away from him. Your combined hot breaths filled the minimal space between the two of you. With you still on the bed on your knees, you finally had some height over Miguel. You cupped his face, and tilted his chin up. His arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you into him. You smiled then brushed your thumb over his lip. Without hesitation, he parted his lips and you slipped your thumb into his mouth. His tongue ran over the pad of your thumb, and the tip of his fang grazed over it.
You shivered, causing him to smirk.
You removed your thumb. You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down, kissing him sweetly again. It was a confession, and a thank you. He sighed into the kiss. You slowly parted, lingering for a second. It was so tender, despite the cum and saliva coating his chin and your lips. And your following words reminded Miguel how and why he got into this bizarre, surreal situation.
“I want you to fuck me from behind,” you whispered.
Miguel’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, then he chuckled. “Of course,” he purred. Whatever you wanted, he was happy to do. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me?”
You bit back a smile. Your fingers skimmed along his jaw as you backed away and got into position. Miguel watched, transfixed. His eyes trailed down. Seeing your soaking folds, he moaned softly. He can still taste you on his tongue. He licked his lips. Crawling onto the bed, he carefully grabbed your hips.
“You’re too good for me,” he confessed quietly.
You sighed under the simple praise.
He lined himself up, just teasing your entrance. You began to fist the sheets in anticipation. He leaned down. His broad chest pressed firmly into your back, and he whispered in your ear, “But now, let me be good for you.”
He easily pushed himself in.
You moaned unabashedly.
“That’s it, let me hear you,” he grunted.
This round was hot and fast. There wasn’t adoration or love this time, this was solely desires and sins. This was using each other’s bodies.
And Miguel was animalistic. God, it was utter bliss.
You grinded back, meeting his thrusts. You dropped down onto your forearms unable to support yourself fully. Your face buried into the sheets as you cried out. His cock was kissing spots you didn’t think was possible.
Miguel smiled, enjoying your muffled sounds and how you squirmed. His fingers reached around and began to play with your clit. You swore as your body shuddered. Your walls fluttered around him.
He rolled his head back at the sensation. It was as if you were made perfectly for him.
“Miguel,” you whined.
You wanted this so badly. You moved your hips feverishly in tune with his. Skin slapped together, wet noises echoed, and voices cried out. Miguel gasped. His talons buried into your hips, drawing out small specs of blood. He gritted his teeth, almost baring his fangs.
“Ay dios mío,” he grumbled.
Neither of you would last long.
You were begging under your breath. You needed it, you needed him. “Fuck, Miguel, please.”
“I know, I got you,” he groaned, pounding into you. “Let go, cum for me.”
You moaned.
With his fingers, his pace, and your already stimulated body, you came. You gushed around his cock, and slumped heavily into the bed. As your walls clamped down again, Miguel hissed as he spilled himself inside of you. He continued to gently rocked his hips as you both came back down to reality.
The air buzzed with the aftermath.
Your grip on the sheets loosened. You turned your head, glancing back at him: his chest covered in new bruises, his sweat covered forehead, and his fangs and talons were still out. You shivered at the sight. His eyes flickered over, connecting with yours. He gave you a tired smile. He bent down and kissed the spot between your shoulder blades.
You hummed softly.
Miguel rolled onto the bed. His arms wrapped around your waist as flushed your back to his chest. His now softened cock still buried inside.
“Better?” He murmured into your ear.
You nodded.
“Good,” he sighed. “Just … just stay like this with me, please.”
To be fair, you had no energy to argue or care. A day of exhaustion finally caught up to you. You relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the comfort as well as the fullness of him still inside of you. You placed a hand over top of his and intertwined your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand.
“Thank you,” you muttered.
He kissed your shoulder. “You’re welcome. Now rest, cariño, I got you.”
I always will, he thought as you drifted off in his arms completely satisfied.
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babygirl-riley · 8 months
Text
“You want me to what now?” Simon asked stopping from cleaning up the dinner you made.
Stopped him clean in his tracks. It was such an out of park question that made his mind stop and his cock hard. You played with your hands and had a sheepish smile. “I think we should try with no condom,” Both of you wanted to be extra cautious of not getting pregnant, how much he would rather not glove it on his weight of not being a father beats it. “I am on the pill and worst case if we feel that it is necessary go get a Plan B. I just was talking to Danica…”
“Ah,” Simon said turning his heel and walking to the sink. “Of ‘ourse it was Dani.”
You frowned and rolled your eyes. “She told me it was better with no condom. That it feels better for the man.”
Simon chuckled shaking his head. “I have pleasure no matter the circumstances lovie.”
He placed the plates into the sink as he heard you walking to him. “Si-Just this once. If you say an affirmative no then it will be dropped and never spoken again but you have to look at me in the eyes and tell me no.”
Simon didn’t move for maybe a solid minute before turning around. His eyes were blown wide from lust, you knew that look like the back of your hand. He walked closer to you grabbing your waist and leaned in, you could feel his breath. “What if we can’t stop after one time?”
That made your eyes roll and your thighs rub together. You went to his ear and tugged the mask with your teeth. “Then I guess that would be a problem for a different day.”
Simon had chills run down his spine. He loved when your teeth would tug at his balaclava, then you saying that? He growled lowly before standing up straight. Simon deep down wanted this forever, being able to watch his seed leave your beautiful hole. Feeling your plushie walls gripping his cock. He picked you up and placed you on the counter pushing your thighs apart to place himself between them.
“Listen and listen close,” He started slowly getting on his knees as he wrapped his fingers around your leggings and panties. “I’m fucking ya right here and right now. No preparing. No nothing. Can you do that princess?”
You licked your lips as you moved your hips a bit. Placing your hands behind you to give you good support. Watching him slowly dropping your panties and pants down. He stood back up leaning his forehead to you, you placed both of your hands on his cheeks. “You sure Si?” You whispered pulling your fingers underneath his mask to take it off.
Once you saw his handsome face, you smiled softly giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah.” He whispered back before unbuckling his belt.
It made you whimper a bit as he kissed your lips, then your cheek, then your neck staying there and biting sucking. Knowing damn well work is going to that tomorrow. His fingers went to your cunt as he dived his finger in your hole fast before bringing up to his lip. He groaned and licked it all up. “I haven’t even touched you yet, soaking wet for a fantasy.”
“Simon pleeease,” You whispered hooking your legs around his waist. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He smiled, chuckled, and nodded sliding his pants and boxers off. You looked at his cock, his vein popping out more, his top red and swollen. You moaned even looking at his cock, you licked your lips scooting closer off to the edge. Simon chuckled again. “Needy little thing.” He grabbed your lower back and put his fingers in your pussy to gathering your juices.
You hummed as you watched him lather his cock with your cum. He looked back up at you. Both of your eyes connected you grabbed his cheek and brought him to your lips. His tongue asked for entrance into yours, when you parted your lips he slowly pushed his cock into your pussy. You gasped as he still kissed you, the stretch would always have a small pain, that would soon be replaced with pleasure.
Simon sighed loudly placing his head against your shoulder. You gasped longer, god how it felt different. You could feel every single part of his cock, especially the vein brushing against your walls. Simon filled you with his cock, both of you stayed there for a moment.
“F-ffuck,” He whispered kissing your shoulder. “This…mhm…your pussy feels so nice.”
You whimpered as you moved your hips. Simon hissed as he nodded, he pulled out and snapped right back in. Making you both gasp. He did it again and lifted himself to look in between the both of you. God how he didn’t realize how good it was with you out of the condom. He has fucked girls before for sure but this was different.
He could feel the walls of your pussy gripping around his cock, like it was meant for him. Your walls were so much more cushioned, soft, fuck he would say home. When you would clench, fuuuuck, he could buckle his knees and fall over. Simon started to pick up the pace as he watched yours and his cum mixing together.
“This pussy is mi…” He threw his head back for a moment and his eyes rolling behind his skull. “Fuck…if we continue this…you can…god damn…”
Simon never could have thought about him mumbling to you, he loved it. Loved being able to feel safe enough to mumble sweet things. He has only done it once when you were sucking him off, over and over to the point of overstimulation. Now here he is becoming a mumbling mess, god feeling you clench as he hit that spongy spot over and over.
He felt you were about to cum. “Simon…I’m— I can’t…” You were grabbing onto him, grabbing everywhere.
He nodded pressing his head against yours. “Cum baby girl I fuck I got you.”
That did it for him, her pussy clenched around him like a fucking glove. He started to pant as he fucked you harder and faster. God it was like you both were meant for each other cock and all. You looked at him and pulled him closer, getting down from your high. “You feel so fucking good baby,” you whispered into his ear. “I need you to fuck your cum into me.”
Simon growled as he held you closer as his hips became more erratic sloppy. God how you felt so fucking good, his good girl, his love, his everything. What if you did get pregnant? What would happen? God how beautiful you will look full of his child.
Simon started to whimper himself as you sucked behind his ear. Moaning once more. Hitting your second orgasm. He felt his cock twitch faster harder. “Yes yesyesyesyes!” You started to yell holding onto him even tighter.
That broke him. “Oh fuck,” He yelled feeling his cock twitch, his spine feeling like electricity shot through his body, his skin on fire. Fuck it felt so fucking good. “Oh fuck, fuck lovie fuck fuck!”
That’s when his rope of cum painted your walls. You also whined against his neck, slowly letting go of him intensely. You both laid against each other both of your foreheads sweating, panting. Simon was first to move, you noticed he was shaking a bit. You felt his cock soften inside you. He looked at you and placed his hand on your cheek. Simon slowly pulled out and watched as your cum and his cum started go come out.
Simon groaned watching it slowly hit the table. “Fucking hell lovie,” You looked at him smiling. “We are gettin rid of those condoms yeah?”
simon x reader guide
simon x reader smut list
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scribbledghost · 4 months
Text
a Neighbor!AU idea that has wormed its way into my brain and won't leave:
You're visiting Simon on-base for the first time. Partly as a way to see how he lives when he's not at home, and partly to meet the rest of 141. You're in Price's office with the rest of them, simply sitting around and chatting.
And suddenly an alert goes out. The base is on lockdown for some reason or another, but it's clear from the announcement that there's some sort of immediate danger. Simon's demeanor switches on a dime. Mere seconds ago, he was relaxed. Content, even. But as soon as that alert pops off, he changes.
You've never seen Ghost. You've heard of him from Simon, he's showed you the mask, and you know that technically they're one and the same. But Simon has told you in no uncertain terms that Ghost stays in the field. That Ghost is merely another side of himself whose sole purpose is to get Simon home alive. And once that mission is completed, he's just Simon again.
Not now though. Now, he's Ghost.
He wastes no time shoving you into a corner, standing in front of you with his back to you. Guarding you like a trained animal. You watch as he barks out orders to Soap and Gaz and discusses possible s.o.p.'s with Price. You hear him talk of an exfil, of ways to covertly get you off-base with the lockdown in effect. It's as if a switch has been flipped.
He accepts no words from you. Any attempt to ask what's going on or offer any suggestion earns a quick "hush" as he reaches back and squeezes a hand on you. The hand he lays on you is the only remnant of Simon you can see in him now - because even in the midst of a crisis that requires him to fully be Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley, even if he is verbally blunt and curt with you, he is physically still gentle.
Price manages to talk him down, but only slightly. He convinces Ghost to wait just a moment before proceeding with an attempted exfil, just to get more intel on what the situation really is.
"Anyone comes through that door, you drop 'em," Ghost orders.
"With what?" Soap asks. "We're unarmed."
"With your bare hands, Sergeant," Ghost replies coldly. "Either you kill 'em, or I will."
"An' what if it's some poor recruit that got caught out in the open and just needs a hideout?"
"Then they should've picked a different room."
A chill runs through you. You'd known in the periphery that Simon has killed before, a fact that's simply a given since he's an SAS member. But you'd never been faced with it so closely.
"No one's gonna come through the door," Prices says, holding a hand up like he's trying to calm a spooked animal. "It's locked three times over and reinforced."
Simon - Ghost - still has a hand on you as you stand behind him. The atmosphere is tense, and time slows to a crawl as you wait for more information to arrive. It's not as though you feel unsafe; you know there are few places in the world where you would be safer in your current situation. But there is still the nagging feeling that you're being guarded by a pack of wolves, all tightly-wound and liable to snap violently at any sign of movement.
Then, suddenly, another announcement.
An all-clear. Apparently some rookie had gotten their signals confused and thought there was a danger when there wasn't. A classic false alarm.
The collective task force (yourself included) seems to release a held breath at the same time. You watch as Ghost's shoulders sag, and you watch as Simon returns when he guides you out from behind him. You can tell he's still rattled, you can tell there's still vestiges of Ghost wafting through him like dark smoke. But for now, you all take some time to catch your breath and come down from the adrenaline high.
Maybe later, you'll talk about what happened. Maybe you won't. Either way, you've gotten to see much more of the militant side of Simon than what he'd bargained for when he brought you with him to the base today.
You're still not quite sure how you feel about it.
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