#i just want a nice life of quiet contemplation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marriedtobigfoot · 9 months

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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steve is sad #eddie helps #pre-season 4 #this takes place between seasons 2 and 3 #I wrote this in a fit of insanity while I was supposed to be working #hope yall like it

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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———

Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.

He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.

“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”

“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”

“Oh my gods.”

“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”

“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”

“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”

“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”

“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”

“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”

“Ugh.”

Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.

He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.

“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.

Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”

“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”

“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”

Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!

A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.

“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.

But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.

“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”

Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.

“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”

Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.

“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”

Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.

Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.

“Why’s it stupid?”

Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?

Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.

He’s never seen him cry.

Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”

The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.

“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”

He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.

Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”

Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”

“People like you?”

Percy nods.

Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.

“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”

The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.

“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”

“D’you hurt her?”

“…I scared her.”

“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”

“…What?”

Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.

“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”

“I —”

“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”

A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.

“She didn’t scare me, though.”

“Not even once?”

“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”

“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”

Percy tilts his head.

“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”

“Everyone has that.”

“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”

Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”

Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.

“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”

Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.

“You’re not, either.”

Nico blinks. “Huh?”

“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”

“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”

Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!

“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”

“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.

“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”

Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”

“No. You’ll still be annoying.”

He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”

“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”

Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —

Gods, they’re bad at this.

But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.

“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.

Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.

“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”

“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”

Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”

“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.

Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”

“So.”

Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.

(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)

“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”

“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”

“I literally hate you. Not joking.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”

“Disgusting.”

“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”

“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.

Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.

He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.

“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”

Nico flushes. “Shut up.”

“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”

“Shut up, Percy, gods.”

“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”

Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.

“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”

He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.

“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”

Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.

“Yes.”

“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”

Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”

“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”

“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”

“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”

Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.

“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”

“It hasn’t been?”

Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”

Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”

Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”

Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.

“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”

Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”

It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.

“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”

“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”

“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”

Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?

Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.

“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”

Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.

“How do I make him realise? Make him —”

Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”

Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.

“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”

Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.

———

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lunarw0rks · 10 months

Note

humbly requesting ghost x reader where he thinks he’s too old and damaged for reader. i headcannon ghost to be anywhere between 35-38 and the reader would be early twenties. he’s all emo and “oh they’re too innocent, i’d hurt and ruin them” and reader is just like “i would die for this man.”

Too Old For You // Part One

Summary: You've been crushing on him for a while now, even going as far as taking a stab for him. But it isn't enough for him to notice you; you're too young, too nice for someone like him.

Warning(s): medic!reader, fem!reader, age gap [reader is early twenties, ghost is mid/late thirties], mild injury/blood, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 817

A/N: I enjoy hurting my own feelings :)

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX | AO3 VER | PART TWO .ˎˊ˗

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You did know that, by this point, at least. He had only told you about a hundred times.

“I can do this myself. It’s my job,” you let out a hiss as the Lieutenant purposefully wrapped the gauze tighter than necessary. You weren’t even supposed to be involved — you were supposed to keep hidden until the situation was handled.

He ripped off the end of it, fastening the small clip to keep the wrap in place. “Keep quiet,” he wanted to be irate. But you meant well, and that’s what bothered Simon the most. He, of all people, didn’t deserve to be the one you sacrificed yourself for. You were lucky it was a knife through the hand and not through the heart—where the intruder had been aiming the blade intended for him.

The gash in your palm would be a life-long reminder, doomed to leave a nasty scar.

Nothing says I’m in love with you like taking a stab in the hand for him, but it was abundantly clear he was too headstrong to let you be with him. Or was intentionally dismissing your signals entirely, you weren’t sure which one was more disheartening.

Ghost sets your injured hand back down, letting you admire his sloppy patchwork. It got the job done, it didn’t need to be an aesthetically-pleasing bandage. He used an alcohol wipe to cleanse the bloodstains on your forearm, now an unnecessary service. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing for you being injured on his behalf because he surely wasn’t expressing it through words.

You reached over with your unharmed hand and placed it over his, stopping his meticulous wiping, “I got this.”

The stubborn Lieutenant only flicked his gaze upwards from your hand on his, a brief scoff escaping his lips. Whatever the hell that meant. “Least I can do is get the damn blood off you, kid. Jumped in front of a bloody knife for me.”

Kid. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you.

He continued muttering and shaking his head in disapproval, running the alcohol wipe along your flesh until there was no trace of crimson.

It wasn’t a motive of stupidity, nor was it to prove yourself. You weren’t even a soldier, there would be no use trying to be tough in front of him. Your true motive was admiration for him, and even now, with a stab wound, he’s too mule-headed to let you in. Any longer, and you might just lose your mind entirely.

“Thought you would be relieved, I guess.” You shrugged, speaking with a small bit of defeat. “Knife was supposed to go right there.” A finger pointed at his heart but didn’t dare make contact. You knew better than that,.. Sort of.

Before you could finish outstretching your hand, his unoccupied one clamped over it, breaths a little heavier. Followed by a look that could only be described as intense contemplation; should I break this hand or continue to gently hold it?

“You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re doing, do you?” Simon questions, thumb instinctually caressing your knuckle to balance out the iron grip he maintained. “You’re confused.”

You were too young, too nice in his eyes. It was your job to be a healer, a good one, too. And his job? A trained killer. To him, it was too ironic, too striking of a contrast. An arrangement like that would never work—Simon was too mature, too damaged, downright unworthy of your kindness. At least that’s what he had himself convinced of, even after the knife incident.

You replied hastily, a slight tinge of frustration showing. “I’m not confused, Ghost. I know what I want—I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” You would’ve done it again if it meant another chance at restarting this conversation. A conversation that now was nose-diving into a point of no return.

“You shouldn’t have done it at all,” he sighed, amber eyes flooded with internal conflict. His grip released with one swift movement, and now his palm rested on either side of you, but it wasn’t intimidation he was after. “I’m not the bloke you want to jump in front of a bullet for, trust me.”

“Simon—” You blurted amidst his attempts at swaying you, cradling your bandaged hand. What more would it take?

“—Ghost.” He interjected, taking several steps back from his looming position. If he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from poisoning you.

It wasn’t right. You deserve someone better than him. “It’s Ghost. We’re not doin’ this, Kid. I’m not doing it.” His words were like a punch to the gut, more painful than a stab to the hand, that’s for sure.

The door to the infirmary slammed shut, only seconds before his footsteps faded into silence, stranding you with the solitude of rejection.

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chososdiscordkitten · 6 months

Text

✫Escort!Toji✫

MDNI

Pairing: Escort!Toji x Afab!Reader content: some plot, no use of y/n, reader is a frustrated office worker, toji fucks ur coworkers, reader masturbates to thoughts abt toji, reader isnt a virgin, sub!reader, toji is a bully, teasing, brief oral (f receiving) orgasm denial if u squint, manhandling, missionary n doggy, spanking like once, rough, HE SPITS IN READERS MOUTH, no aftercare:( multiple orgasms (f & m) Toji contemplates stealing ur money ,proofread ONCE

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You found yourself on your lunch break with your female coworkers, in the cafe below the offices you worked at. Only having worked there a week or so, new to the city and lacking friends.

Quiet as they spoke of their full lives while they ate their sandwiches. Older divorced women with a few kids, you didn't really fit in with them. They were elegant women, experienced in life and sure of what they wanted out of it.

You sat surrounded by them, your hands on your mug of coffee as they spoke about mortgages and how there's a stomach bug going around the school.

One of them called your name, pulling you from your thoughts as you looked up at them, “Do you have a husband?” One of them asked, seeing your face fall.

“No i don't-” you spoke up, seeing a few of them smile when they heard you.

“And a boyfriend?” another asked.

“No-” you tried saying.

“But you're so pretty! New play thing in the city- how could you not have a boyfriend?” One of them asked.

Their questions were not to get to know you. Their voices coated in passive aggressiveness.

“Speaking of- I found a new rent-by-the-hour companion.” one of them chirped, pulling her phone out and showing them a picture.

Forgetting the past conversation as you started to gather your belongings.

Hearing the women swoon over the picture, “This one, he's different. He gets down to it like no other. And he's not nice like the others are. He fucks like he hates you.” you heard her say as you walked away.

You had heard rumors that this city was littered with “companions” for lonely women and men. It didn't take long for you to hear the older women of the office talk about them.

Trading videos and pictures like they were pokemon. If you were being honest, you found it strange. But you knew why people would pay.

You knew what that kind of loneliness felt like. How good it feels to touch another person. To feel their warmth. But your morals couldn't let you hire one. Not desperate enough to have sex with a stranger.

The next few days the ladies of the office kept praising this new wonder of a man. On one occasion seeing his picture, seeing that this wonder of a man was actually attractive.

For weeks you kept hearing more and more. This one man sticking longer than the others did. Hearing their descriptions of his body, of his cock. It got to the point that you contemplated filing a sexual harassment claim with HR, but knowing that the women had seniority, and one of them was head of the HR department.

You knew filing the complaint would bring on more harm than good. So you kept quiet, practically forcing yourself to listen to these conversations.

One day after your lunch break, one of the nicer women called your name. Asking you to wait up. “How are you feeling, hon?” she asked, her face showing genuine worry for you.

“I’m okay, just haven't been able to sleep all that great.” You replied, eyebags showing through your makeup.

“Here, hold on.” she said, pulling out her notepad and writing something down, “This is Toji’s phone number- he's helped me sleep like no other.” She smiled, handing you a piece of paper.

“He's always taking on new clients.” she smiled, hand on your shoulder as you looked at the paper. “If you're ever looking for a companion for a few hours.” She finished, walking past you and disappearing between the cubicles.

You looked down at the paper, grimacing as you read the numbers, seeing ‘Cash only’ written below it.

That paper sat on your nightstand for weeks. Not wanting to throw it out incase of an emergency. Living in the new city without friends was rough. The only things that filled your days were work and sleep.

You had thought back to the one time you had sex, your first year in college with a drunk frat guy. Didn't last longer than 10 minutes, feeling disgusted at his sweaty body on top of you.

“Companion for a few hours huh.” you thought out loud, looking over at the paper. The exhaustion of your job eating away at you. Not even being able to please yourself late at night. It was frustrating, celibacy was frustrating.

Until one night you tried to masterbate, porn not doing anything for you and thoughts of this Toji guy flooded your brain. Remembering how they described him. Tall and muscular. How he ate them out with so much fury.

Feeling your heartbeat rise and a heat shiver down your core. Closing your eyes and picturing the photo they passed around. That was the first time you had come since moving there. Right after you thought you'd give it a chance, not satisfied with your hand and wanting to feel warmth.

Besides, everyone is doing it right? Would it be so bad if you tried it once?

Your shaky thumb typed in the phone number, pressing messages as you typed. ‘Hello, I got your phone number from my coworker, Agatha. Just wanted to see if you were available for service.’ You typed, cringing at how formal it sounded.

And you always hated texting, especially new people. Pressing send as you instantly regret your decision. A few minutes passed, fiddling with your fingers to see if he would respond.

A ding came from your phone as you flew to open it. Only seeing a link to the maps app. Opening it and seeing directions for a love hotel, ‘Friday, 8PM.’ another message dinged as your eyebrows rose.

You gulped, wondering if you were going to be trafficked or murdered by a strange man just because you didn't have patience to try and find a partner. It was wednesday evening, knowing that your nerves wouldn't be settled for two whole days made you uneasy.

The lack of his care of who you were or what you looked like also made you realize that it really was just for money.

The next day was horrible, the feeling in your gut didn't settle. Hearing how highly the women spoke of him. “Last night he was taking me from the back, and I felt him move and I looked back to see him texting someone!” she exclaimed, somehow it was a compliment.

But you felt your heart stop knowing that he was messaging you while fucking your coworker. That evening you couldn't sleep. Picking your phone up and looking at the love hotel location again. You felt uneasy, like anticipation was building inside of you but not in a good way.

Friday came flying in, the work day was slow. So slow that you swore that everytime you looked at the clock it went back five minutes. You finally got off at 5:30, walking home to prepare.

Taking a hot bath as you thought of how badly this could go. Getting out and blow drying your hair, getting ready as though it was a first date. Lotioning your entire body as you waited for your clothes to finish drying. Dragging a darker lipstick on your lips, spraying perfume on your wrists and spreading it to the back of your ears. Putting on the warm clothes fresh out the dryer.

Looking into the mirror before leaving, getting a ding on your phone as you gathered your keys. ’Ask for me at the desk.’ it read. 7:37 on the clock as you walked out.

Your cheeks were warm while walking to the uber you ordered, so if he was a creep, he wouldn't know what car you drove. Wallet stuffed with cash as you didn’t know how much he would charge you.

The driver made a face at you through the rear view mirror, seeing the name of the hotel from the window. You stepped out, looking at the tall building and seeing the glass doors. Walking inside to be greeted by the front desk.

Smile on their face as they asked how they could help you, “I'm looking for Toji’s room?” you asked, looking at the small sign on the desk that showed the prices per hour to rent the rooms. Seeing her look down to the computer and look through the reservations.

“4th floor, room 203.” She smiled, her hand pointing you to the elevators.

You started to feel the lower part of your stomach churn, seeing the numbers flash on top of the elevator as it took you up floor by floor.

The doors beeped open as your eyes laid on the dim hallway. Red colored doors as you walked passed them hearing muffled sounds of moans coming from them.

Your heart was pounding as you walked past room 200. Stepping passed room 202, inhaling sharply before standing in front of room 203. Your hand hesitated to knock, flinching your wrist back before knocking three times.

You heard heavy footsteps walking towards the door, hearing the lock come undone and seeing the black door handle turn. You gulped, eyebrows furrowed as you waited for the door to open. Blinking and seeing him.

A giant of a man before you. Face stern as his eyes scanned you. His eyebrows furrowed, not expecting you to be much younger than his usual clients. “Toji?” you asked, looking up to his face as you noticed a scar on his lip.

“Come in.” He demanded, his voice deeper than you expected, letting go of the door and leaving a small space for you to walk through. You swallowed, stepping past the entrance and leaving your doubts at the door.

Eyes scanning the clean room, lights dim and the curtains open. Flinching when you heard him close the door. “I charge per hour.” He spoke up, walking up behind you as his hands went to your coat. Causing you to slightly jump.

His hands pulled your coat off of you, hanging it on one of the hooks behind the door. “Or per service if that’s what you prefer.” He spoke close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Whichever is fine.” You mumbled, feeling his massive hands rest on your hips, guiding you to the bed. You sat down on the edge, looking up at him as he looked down at your curled eyelashes. He kneeled down to your feet, his hands going to your shoes, slipping them off slowly as you watched him.

Rolling down your knee high socks and tossing them. His hands sliding up your calf as he reached for your skirt, “How do you want it.” He stated, it wasn't a question, he sounded like he already knew the answer.

“Want…It?” you asked, feeling his hands go up your thighs slowly.

He leaned over, smirk on his face as he whispered in your ear. “How do you want me to fuck you.” He clarified, you felt his hand slip past the hem of your skirt, kneading the plush of your thighs.

“Gentle, please.” You whispered back, feeling his body stiffen at your response. Only being used to women telling him they wanted it rough. He pulled back, looking at you in your eyes. Noticing the features on your face.

His hand going closer to your core, pulsating already from his words. He leaned you back, landing on your elbows as you propped yourself up to see him, his free hand tracing down your side down to the zipper on the side of your skirt.

His thick fingers slowly pulled it down as slipped your skirt down. Toji’s hand guiding it down to your ankles, hands sliding up and settling on your knees. His eyes make eye contact with the wet spot forming in your panties.

He spread your thighs, leaning in closer and blowing cool air to your clothed cunt. A needy whine escaped your lips, he leaned in. His tongue slipped past his lips as he licked at the wet spot. Making you almost jump.

A smile on his lips seeing how reactive you were. His hand came up from your thigh, leaning his head back as his thumb dragged from the bottom of your now soaked pantied, up to your clit. You shivered.

“I haven't even done anything and you're already this wet?” he asked, voice low as you whined. Toji’s thumb teasing the tip of your clit as the other held your hip in place.

All you wanted was to grind down on his teasing fingers. But his strong hand wouldn't let you. You could feel the mess in your panties soak down to your ass, back arched as he teased your clit.

“Don't tell me you're already gonna cum just from this?” his tone soaked with cockiness, smile on his face as he teased you, you couldn't let out any words, feeling his thumb rub against you harder as he kissed at your thighs.

Only letting out small moans at his teasing. Toji felt your leg shake against his side, knowing your orgasm was close.

“How pathetic.” he cooed, seeing you buck your hips up against his thumb, seeing white behind your eyes as he degraded you. Cumming at his cruel words. So pent up that it didn't take much for your first orgasm. He smiled, seeing you come undone by nothing.

His fingers traced up to your hips, pulling your panties down, the wet cloth sticking to your cunt as he exhaled, pleased seeing you squirm. His cock throbbed in his pants, seeing your glistening cunt. Clit blushed and practically begged him for attention.

“Oh, this simply won't do.” he said, clicking his tongue as his index finger traced your lips as he tried pressing it into your pulsating cunt.

Feeling a thick finger slide past your entrance, lip in your teeth as you felt Toji’s thumb on your clit again. The rest of his hand firm on your tummy as he circled it slowly.

You hissed feeling his finger curl up, you knew you said gentle but this was agonizing. This wasn't gentle anymore, this was tortuous. He watched as you arched your back, pulling his finger out and looking at your face. His eyes half lidded as he held it before him.

“Open your mouth.” He demanded, his thumb rubbing firm circles on your clit, soft whines from your lips at his words. Your eyebrows curled upwards, opening your mouth slightly as you saw his hand come closer to your mouth.

Placing it on your plush lips, feeling your own juices on your lips as he pressed it in. Your lips closed around it as your hand went up to his wrist. Holding the side of his palm as you sucked on his thick finger. Moans from your mouth vibrating around it. Tasting yourself on him.

His face was decorated with a sinister smirk. Seeing how eager you were. Toji slowly pulled his finger out of your mouth, seeing how you licked it clean. Tilting his head slightly as it went down again, this time pressing his middle and ring finger at your entrance, circling it as you felt the resistance from your entrance.

His eyes on your flushed face, looking at how your eyebrows furrowed at feeling the tips of his fingers press into you. You whined, his thumb not going fast enough on your clit to give you another orgasm. Toji felt the want to kiss you, leaning into your face as he worked at your cunt.

His thick fingers sliding into you as you squirmed under him, his body now pressed against you as his tongue was deep in your mouth. Toji groaned, being able to taste you on your own tongue. His cock now leaking as his fingers disappeared inside of you. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers as you felt the hand that was on your clit stop circling it.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head when the thumb on the same hand that was thrusting into you replaced it. By then Toji couldn't help himself, his hand going to his cock as he felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers trying to keep them inside, pleads falling from your lips.

You pulled away from him, “Let me cum-” you whined, your hand on his clothed shoulder as his pace didn't speed up.

"Do you think you deserve another one?” He asked, his hand on his cock speeding up as he palmed himself through his pants.

“Please-” You whined, looking into his eyes with tears forming in them. Toji felt his cock throb, seeing you beg for him to let you cum almost made him bust in his pants. He groaned, feeling your spongy walls pulsate around him as his lips brushed against yours.

“Come.” He demanded, his fingers speeding up, your poor clit being abused by his thumb as the hand on his clothed cock sped up. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth falling open as you felt him take your orgasm from you.

His nose scrunched, seeing your face churn as he abused your cunt. His cock releasing inside his pants. Toji pressed his hot mouth to your open one, his groans vibrating in you as you felt his thumb keep its fast pace against your clit. Making you squirm.

Your hips bucked up against him as he pulled his fingers out of you. His thumb falling from your clit as his lips fell from yours, pulling his fingers up between your lips, he groaned seeing that you had creamed around them. He looked into your eyes as he slipped them into his mouth, craving the brief taste that he tasted on your tongue earlier.

Your eyebrows furrowed seeing his actions, your cunt squeezing against nothing in reaction. You leaned in, licking at his knuckles while your eyes never left his. Licking up the mess that had dripped down his hand.

Toji pulled his fingers out, pressing them against your lips. His mouth opened as he watched you kiss them. Inhaling air as you looked at him through your thick eyelashes. Dried streams of mascara beneath your eyes as he felt his cock harden even more.

He took his free hand and traced it up your leg, slowly inching you up the bed till you were pressed against the pillows. His hand slipped up your knitted shirt, pulling it up above your tits. Pretty pink bra holding back what he ached for.

His lips brushed against yours as he cupped one of your breasts, the other going to your back. You lifted your shoulders so he could release you from the cute pink prison that held your breasts.

Your hands pull your top off, feeling Toji’s fingers undo the clasps. He pulled it off of you and wasted no time latching to your neglected nipple, the other kneading your soft tit. He groaned when he inhaled, feeling the scent of your perfume and the sweetness of your skin fill his nose.

At that moment, Toji had forgotten what he was there for. His cock made decisions for him as his mouth sucked harshly on your nipple.

You whined, your hands holding his head as the other went to his clothed shoulder. “I want you inside.” You moaned, feeling his teeth graze your nipples. Toji pulled away, his back straightening as he looked down at you.

Cock so hard he was sure it would rip a hole through his pants. He pulled his shirt off, revealing scars on his chest and a prominent v line. His happy trail made your cunt throb.

He reached into his pocket, finding the small square of foil, placing a corner to his teeth as he ripped it open. You nibbled on your lip, seeing the gold foil read ‘magnum’.

He slipped his soiled pants down, kicking them off as you hissed seeing his thick cock. The tip was bright pink, precum falling from his slit and the shaft dark at the base. Your eyes scanned his heavy balls.

Propped on your elbows as you looked at it, mouth watering at the sight, you knew it was going to rip you in half. But you were always up for a challenge. You saw him place the rolled up rubber on his leaking tip. Seeing his hand roll it down to his base. Cock so huge that the condom didn't even reach the base, stopping an inch or two above.

If it was up to Toji, he would've gone raw. But he didn't want to risk it, knowing you were a new client. He propped himself above you, placing a wet kiss to your lips as he pressed the tip of his fat cock to your entrance. You whined against his mouth, Toji pulled away seeing his face wasn’t as stern as before.

His eyebrows knitted as he muttered, “Open your mouth.” his teeth clenched seeing you obey him without hesitation. His eyes on yours. He sucked his tongue, collecting saliva in his mouth before spitting it on your tongue. Toji’s fat head pushing at your entrance. You felt it sting as you swallowed his spit.

He hissed seeing you swallow so eagerly. His head now fully in your cunt. “It's so big-” you whined, your hand going down to his shaft and guiding him to go deeper, your poor cunt starved of cock for too long. He groaned, hearing your whiney tone but still taking it.

Feeling his cock go deeper inside of you. You let out a loud moan, feeling his tip curve up to your sweet spot. His hips trying their best not to shove his cock fully into you, knowing his pay depended on this. He groaned, his hands went to your hips.

He couldn't take it, he flipped you over. Manhandling you as his hands fell to your ass. You moaned feeling his cock shift inside of you. Your face buried in the pillows as he pushed himself into you.

Now on your knees with your back arched. Sweat made his hair stick to his forehead as he looked down at you. His hands groping handfuls of your plump ass as he bit his lip. Throwing his head back as you clenched around him.

You moaned into the pillows as you felt him start to pull out of you. His size causing tears to fall from your face, black streams falling from your cheeks onto he white pillows. His thrusts started slow, but little by little he thrusted faster, wanting to cum inside so badly.

He gave you a firm spank on your ass causing you to cry out. Frustration in his groans as his hand found its way to the nape of your neck. Pulling you up to him as your eyes cried, feeling another orgasm pool in your womb.

“You’re so fucking tight.” he groaned into your ear, his hand on your neck as the other held your hip up. His thrusts harder into you, bullying your poor cunt as he snaked his hand down to your clit. Your hands reached down to his hips that snapped to your ass at light speed, in hopes to relieve the ache from it.

Feeling like his rough thrusts were some kind of punishment. Trying to push his cock out a little so it wouldn't sting. You cried out as his thrusts became faster as you came on his cock, his finger on your clit as his hand on your neck roamed up to your cheek.

“Please- Please-Please-” you cried out feeling overstimulated, moaning as his cock pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside, before ramming it in again. Toji’s hand on your face holding you up as your knees wobble. Struggling to keep yourself up right.

He looked down to see his cock slipping in and out of you. Groaning when he saw you cream around him. His fingers on your clit made you cum again, your knees buckled forcing you to fall back down, trying to hold yourself up on your knees. His cock not even hesitating to stop as he used you.

Toji’s hands now holding your hips up so he can angle himself. “Fuucckk-” he moaned, your cunt still tight around him as he heard your cries into the mattress. He snapped his hips forward. Feeling his orgasm flow out of him.

Wishing he had cum inside of your pretty cunt. He thrusted into you once more, slow as his body twitched. His big hands on your waist as he placed his forehead on your back, placing wet kisses to your spine. Keeping his cock inside of you as you exhaled. He pulled himself out of you, seeing the mess in between your thighs as he tipped over next to you on his back. Heavy breathing as he felt his cock soften.

He looked over at you, a smile on your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Smeared makeup around your eyes as he came down from the high. His eyebrows now softened, his face fucked out as though that was some kind of therapy for him.

He sat up, taking the filled condom and tossing it in the trash. Standing up and walking to the chair in the corner of the room. You flipped over, hazy eyes looked at his body. Seeing him pick up a thin sheet off the chair and tossed it to you.

He slipped his soiled pants back on not caring if people saw his mess, a small smile on his face as he saw you nuzzled up to the pillows. Silence filled the room as he put his clothes on, reaching down to where he had tossed your panties, discreetly picking them up and sliding them into his pocket as his prize.

He looked over at you, already asleep as he walked to your coat. He hesitated in taking the money out of your wallet. Normally he didn’t enjoy sex with his clients, always bored while fucking.

But it didn’t feel right charging you for fucking. Knowing you had asked for him to be gentle, guilt in his stomach knowing he used you for his own pleasure. Knowing he was too rough. He settled on just letting you pay for the room, thinking it was some sort of compromise.

Heavy feet walking over to your sleeping body. His cock throbbing as he saw your hard nipples through the thin white sheet. Filthy thoughts clouded his mind as he considered waking you up fuck again.

Cock hardening as he reminisced on how tight you were. He wondered why you were trying to pay for sex. Considering you were younger than his usuals, and much, much more beautiful than they were. He leaned down, placing a wet kiss to your sleeping lips before leaving. Noticing a pep in his step as he walked out of the hotel. Toji knew that he had to save your number in his phone.

Wanting to know if it was you if you texted him again. Only to see he didn't even catch your name, saving your name in his phone as “Tight cunt” with a smile on his lips. Hoping you'd shoot him a text again, and soon.

PT 2 HERE

I hope there's an audience for this one, this has been a thought ive been fighting the whole day. im already thinking abt pt 2 help me. I hate him sm he's such a bum. nobody tell choso ok

#toji fushiguro #jjk #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jjk x reader #i hate him #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk s2 #toji x chubby reader

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Note

Hiya, I was reading your "how txt would sound in bed" post and was wondering if you could do the same for Stray kids :)

Your writing is amazing, thank you so much💙✌️

starting off with channie, he's not too loud i don't think.

he is very breathy and kinda more on the throaty side. that's just when he's trying to be quiet though, when you're in his studio and the boys are in the next room or and your hand just feels so good moving up and down his sensitive cock, he feels like he's losing his mind.

he isn't too much louder when you're alone but i do feel like he would be so much more whiny and when he's not whining, he's moaning and he moans with his accent and dear lord.

lixie's moans would be so pretty, so deep and rich omg. just like his deep voice normally, his moans would be the exact same.

but also in my heart and soul i think that if he got into it (if you played with his nipples), his voice would get several octaves higher.

he'd keen and mewl a lot, getting so much more vocal when he's about to cum, whining high and cute.

he'll be going red when you point it out, fucking hell imagine him with sweater paws, getting fucked out of his mind but you saying his moans are the cute is the most embarrassing thing in this moment and he just covers his face with the sweater paws with a cute little 'stoooop'.

honestly, hyunjin took me a little while because i couldn't figure it out. after some contemplation though i've come to a conclusion,

he'd be kinda a middle range in volume, not too loud or too quiet, but that changes depending on the situation.

he really is a performer and that doesn't change in bed at all. even if he's getting railed so hard he's seeing stars he still keeps note of exactly what sets you off.

exactly which noises he makes seem to illicit that hungry look in your eye. he changes based on what you like, plays with you by using it against you. whether you like him quieter or louder (you better like him louder or i don't trust you) he notices and then it's just a game to see how long it is until he starts making them in a non-sexual way in your normal life, waiting for the moment you'll snap and fuck him against the kitchen counter.

now my sweet little brat lee know would grunt and groan a lot pretty quietly because he doesn't want to moan and let you know how good he feels.

when he gets really close though or falls into subspace, he just gets so completely overwhelmed with pleasure that he really can't care anymore, utterly debauched sounds falling from those puffy lips, all swollen from how much he's bitten them. super loud and super ruined, any and every curse under the sun gasped or whined out.

it's really adorable to see him going from somewhat composed, but clearly trying his best to stay that way and then just melt away with the pleasure, dissolving into a mess, a slave to the sensations that you give him<33

the cute little puppy seungmin, he pants a lot, whimpers a bit, akin to a puppy-

but he isn't that loud in general, he'll have to place his mouth right by your ear for you to hear his tiny mewls and whispers for more, honestly it's pretty perfect for when you're pegging him in mating press or missionary, and his face is buried into your neck

he'll happily make himself a bit louder just for you but only if you ask him nicely-and only if puppy gets a reward

my little perv jisung, babygirl's a shrieker for sureee, gasping, moaning, screaming, losing the very concept of composure, thoughts a jumbled mess just because of how good you make him feel.

gives zero fucks for anyone else around-i've said it a million times and i'll say it again, there is not a single ounce of concern for common decency when he moans out loudly from the vibrating plug up his ass in a public area.

dirty talker 10000%, learned it all from the absolutely sinful-*sigh*, just check his browser search history. baby's got a mouth on him and will not shut up unless you gag him.

he also definitely gets upset when you tell him that he has to be quiet, pouting and maybe even shedding a tear, asking why you don't wanna hear his noises.

binnie, he would sound so cuteee-

it really depends where you are because he's really shy and if you're anywhere that people would possibly walk in on you (gym locker room) it's gonna be heavy breathing and the tiniest n e e d i e s t little 'please' e v e r

and he isn't that loud to begin with but when you're in private, just the two of you, looking up at you with the sweetest cutest doe eyes in the world,

then he really feels like he can lose himself into all of the sensations, he loses it real quick tbh just of how sensitive he is and can hardly bring himself to be quiet.

and lastly, with innie, poor baby just gets so overwhelmed and so flustered, he'll try to cover his face and muffle his moans until you pull his hands away (or tie them over his head). even then though he won't let you really hear him, biting his lip or swallowing the moan crawling up his throat

he'll try to bury his face into your skin, trying to distract himself, take his mind off of how good he feels while marking you all up,

when he finally does let you hear him though-it really should be a crime that he didn't let you sooner, absolutely heavenly, absolutely sinful, wholly and utterly delectable. soft whimpers and full moans, ughhhh.

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forusomimiya · 6 months

Text

@hoefor-life ship & prompt: “What makes you think I will?” & "Let´s put that mouth to better use?" w/ Rintaro Suna ˚₊˚✧🦊✧˖°📱

There's nothing so fucking hot to you than having your boyfriend kneeling between your legs gasping, recovering from his earlier orgasm, staring at you despite not being able to find his eyes behind those messy locks on his forehead, fingering you and hitting the exact spot, smirking as he remembers that no one knows your weak spots better than he does.

"Fuck, baby. You’re dripping everywhere." It wasn't just his voice that was heard as he changed positions to move his fingers faster and make your pussy sound obscene but delicious, taking advantage of the dripping of your cum.

"My— god... ´s so good Rin..." Your thights started to tremble.

“You have such beautiful thighs" he kissed them. "I want them locked around my neck.” No. This was no time to think about having Rin's head between your legs. Such a glorious gift as he had was to be put to good use by having more time.

"Rin" you called him, but your eyes flew to the movement of his hand on his cock.

It wasn't there before, so maybe it was that you were dripping so much that he couldn't leave his hand quiet. You contemplated with stolen moans the ability he had to masturbate. He wasn't doing it in a hurry, desperate to cum. He managed his time, he liked to torture himself watching your body. He would always start slow, from bottom to top, stopping at the tip and spitting to get more excited until he felt he was close. Then he would start cursing, flattering you, increasing the speed of his hand.

"Shit bunny, you´re so gorgeous. So fucking pretty... my pretty girl"

But tonight you weren't going to let him waste his spill.

"Don´t come yet, please"

"Huh? What makes you think i will?". He understood your request as you kept drooling on his cock, now red and about to burst. “Wanna suck it?" You nodded with puppy eyes, embarrassed but ready to go for it. "So, let's put that mouth to better use?" little was enough to close your legs and ask you to come closer. The bastard didn't give you a second of mercy. He wasn't going to beat around the bush even though your belly was already tingling inside.

"Open wide, bunny" your hand continued the journey he left unfinished. He moved a couple of strands of your hair aside to get a better look at you (very nice of him) and lifted your chin. "Please fuck me and don't stop" you thought as you imagine yourself sucking him off. That aroused you.

"You begged for my cock. Now I’m gonna give it to you”

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solarlunarsstuff · 2 months

Note

hello 👀👀👀 may i request an alastor trying to woo lucifer's oldest daughter while the big boss of hell and charlie are watching 👀👀👀

thank you so much and have a wonderful day!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

YIPPEE !! A hazbin Hotel req ! I only watched around 4-5 episodes of the newest show so it might not be accurate ! Enjoy :) !

Alastor x Fem!Reader (FANFIC)

A/n: He might be a little bit obsessed with you, but don't worry, he'll make you quiet if he has to force it. (HUSKERDUST 4 LIFEEEEE)

TW: Fingering, READER IS A HOOKER !!!, semi-public, getting caught, his horn thingies grow, tongue fucking, getting eaten out, dry humping, pet names (slut, whore, baby, doll, ect), you look a little bit like Charlie, dirty talk, nipple play, messy make-outs, overestimating, and edging. Lmk if I missed anything ! 😙

Synopsis: Alastor, the 7'3 radio demon, the overlord of a lot of land in hell. Even though he's shown no sign of wanting to experience intimacy, he can change that rule...

The first daughter of the big boss of hell.

That was your title, ever since you were born. Later on though, you had gotten a little sister.

Charlie Morningstar.

She was a big ray of sunshine despite being born in this hellish place. You loved her, you really did.

The both of you nearly look the same. You did dye your hair to (F/c) so there is quite a difference. You're about 6'9, a few inches taller than her.

You also held that wicked smile from your father, typical.

Anyway, you were in the middle of cleaning your apartment when you heard a knock on your door and the sound of paper falling onto the floor.

You thought it was those stupid kids on floor 4 playing games again, but it wasn't. Turned out to be a letter, signed by... your younger sister?

Of course, having nothing else to do, you ripped it open with your nails and unfolded the neat paper.

It read,

'My dear sister, I know we don't talk much anymore, but I would love it if you paid a visit to the hotel! I also know you probably don't have a job, but dad wanted to see you too. He had just come to the hotel about an hour ago. He was basically pleading to see your pretty face again! So, please, think of this and get back to me as soon as possible.

XOXO, Charlie'

You always loved the way that she signed letters. She's been sending you letters with her sign off like that for years now.

Either way, you sat on your couch, contemplating if you should just go or not.

"Fuck it..." You thought out loud

Choosing something comfortable and not something you wore while hooking up.

Oh, right... You're a hooker. It's a job that's actually nicely paid, paid enough for food and your bills. That's it, that's what you were worried about.

What if one of your clients worked there? What of your dad and sister find out?

One client stood out to you though, what was his name? Did it start with an 'A'? Either way, he was one of those people who would choose a hooker and later on be actually interested.

You? Never, it would ruin your job reputation, not wanting to let your job go, you kindly refused, and he went on with his life.

Until you have gotten various notes from someone, some of them were wholesome? In a way, like, "I miss you" or "Just give me a chance".

Others... others were sort of... sexual... For example, "My cock aches for you" and they even sent a paper that had been covered in lipstick kisses.

But it wasn't lips. It was, uhm, you get the idea. He might have been a little bit crazy for you, but it stopped a couple of years ago.

Maybe he realized that I wasn't interested in something serious? You still thought about it as you took the taxi to the front street of the hotel.

You thanked the driver, but instead of him saying your welcome...

"How about I give you a ten? You know, for your pretty body?" He grinned

"No thanks, you don't seem like the type that I would bother with. Plus, that 10 won't even cover 20 minutes.." You snarled back

He whispered some slur under his breath but drove off anyway.

"People think they can just ask me for -" you stumbled back as you ran into something, more like someone...

Red vest, big deer ears, a staff...

'Oh shit..' You thought to yourself

Maybe he won't remember you?

"Back for round two, love?" He grinned maliciously

'God fucking dammit..' you looked up seeing that stupid radio demon overlord.

"No, I'm not, you sick fuck. I'm here to see my little sister.." You moved around him and continued to walk towards the hotel.

"Ahh, that's why I thought you looked familiar.." his voice had a hint of static to it.

You stayed silent and opened the doors, your sister turned around to see who it was.

"Alastor, I said that you -" she stopped once she saw you.

'That's what his name was...' You smiled a little at how your sister nearly knocked you over as she came and wrapped her arms around you.

"OH MY GOD, Y/N, YOU CAMEE!!!" She jumped up and down while hugging the shit out of you.

"Hah, yep, it's me!" You awkwardly hugged her back, noticing your father talking to the other workers on the lobby couches.

Lucifer turned from the sound of your voice and did the same thing as Charlie.

"MY SWEET GIRL!" He squealed

"Hey, dad." I sighed as he also hugged me

Charlie's personality was mostly taken by your father's side while you to your mother's.

Not really knowing your mom, but you knew you had almost the same personality. The little family bonding was broken by the voice of presumed 'Alastor'.

"Y/n, was it? Pleasure to meet you!~" As if... This fucker is acting as if you've never met before.

"Right..." You went along with it, about to shake his hand, but almost forgot that he is an overlord of souls.

You just smiled lightly at him, seemed like it was the safest option.

[1 hour later]

Nifty was off somewhere cleaning, Angeldust was flirting with Husk, Lucifer and Charlie were laughing at something stupid. And you, you were just sitting on the end of the couch, sipping on your (F/d).

Everything was going lovely until you heard a little bit of static start to form behind you. Everybody else didn't seem to notice, but you did. While turning around, you saw that dumb fucks face.

"Darling, tell me.. Do you like me for the money? Or for how your pretty walls wrapped around my d-" you instantly cut him off, not wanting anybody to hear.

"Shut the fuck up..." You glared at him

He smuggly smiled and sat next to you, squishing you between the armrest and him.

"Could you move-" Your voice stopped in your throat when his hand landed on your thigh.

Alastor kept his hand there, slightly rubbing his hand closer to your cunt.

He paid no mind to your silent pleas. Instead, he started talking with Husk and Angeldust. Thank the gods you were in a blindspot, or everybody would've seen Alastor touching you up.

His hand swiftly slipped into your shorts, rubbing your dampened panties from the outside.

You started to softly buck your hips into his fingers, wanting to gain friction. As if it was obvious, he stopped, grinning from you silently whining.

"Are you okay?" Your father, Lucifer, asked. He noticed how you were twitching.

"Mhm!" Was all you could muster as Alastor started to pump his fingers again.

Your arm flared out, gripping his shoulder. "A-alastor... You..." You couldn't speak for shit.

"Please let me and Miss Y/N excuse ourselves!" Alastor announced to the group.

Before you could speak up, he dragged you a few feet around the corner. "What the fuck-" he cut you off by forcing his lips onto yours.

"You're going to shut the fuck up and take me right here..." He pulled away slightly before diving back in.

A/N: I'm gonna edge yall since I want this to be done before school starts tm!! :3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #smut #hazbin hotel smut

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nahoney22 · 16 days

Note

i humbly ask for some wrecker smut with the prompts “Let me distract you” and “Come on, you can be louder. It’s just us.”

congrats on 4500! that’s huge!

Distractions*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Wrecker X Female Reader

word count: 2.7k

prompts:

“Let me distract you.”

“Come on, you can be louder. It’s just us.”

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Soft Smut, outdoor sex, p in v sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, creampie, explicit language, dirty talk, pet names, nipple licking/sucking, nudity, size kink, big dick, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, after care, fluff, little bit of angst to start where reader feels unfulfilled.

When Wrecker finds you in deep thought and with the feelings he has for you, maybe tonight was the perfect time to confess how he feels. Or, to even distract you.

A/N sorry for the wait - hope this is okay @yeehawgeek 💜

It wasn’t often that you found yourself in deep thought, contemplating life and what had brought you to this precise moment. Yet here you are, lying in the tall grass that bends under your weight, eyes gazing at the stars as a deep sigh parts your lips. The cool night air is crisp against your skin, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze only adds to the serenity.

Nothing seemed wrong, at least not that you were aware of, but you felt unfulfilled. Here you lay on a moon you hadn’t even heard of, accompanied by some of the best people you had ever met. Sure, things were rocky and tedious at the start, but now… life was calm. Settled. Maybe that’s what the issue was.

All the excitement of missions had given you a thrill, a sense of purpose and urgency. But now, with the thrill gone, you found yourself drifting, doing nothing with your time.

“What ya doing all the way out here?” A voice snaps you out of your melancholy thoughts, making you gasp and sit up. You instantly relax when Wrecker strides towards you, stopping at your side, his presence comforting and familiar.

“Just thinking,” you hum, brushing stray strands of grass from your clothes. “Want to join me?”

“Sure!” Wrecker lays down beside you, his large frame settling comfortably a couple of inches away from your shoulder. He tucks his arm under his head as a pillow and looks to the stars with you in a nice silence.

He was one of the best things about your life, in all honesty. There was a spark, an undeniable attraction between you both, yet nothing was ever discussed about it. You both weren’t shy to give each other cuddles here and there, and sometimes the odd celebratory kiss on the cheek that had your mind whirling. But that was it.

You notice that he’s turned his attention away from the stars to look at you, and so you follow his actions and do the same. “Is everything okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, closing your eyes for a moment before continuing, “I’m just thinking.”

He chuckles softly. “You already said that.”

Ah, that you did. “Sorry.”

“No need. But are ya thinking about anything in particular?” His voice is a loud whisper, a sweet attempt to not break the quiet of the night.

You blink and shrug, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I just feel like I miss things.” You start, turning your attention back to the stars, their distant light somehow comforting. “I miss life where we didn’t know what was going to happen next. Aside from the whole Omega getting captured and stuff, of course.” You say quickly, hoping it didn’t seem weird, but he nods for you to continue.

“I don’t know, Wrecker,” you sigh exasperatedly, tugging the grass out from beside you, the blades slipping easily between your fingers. “I’m just... unfulfilled.”

Wrecker is silent for a moment, his presence warm and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he finally says, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet night. “We’ve been through a lot, and things have changed. It’s normal to miss the excitement, even if it was dangerous.”

The other boys often disregarded Wrecker’s intelligence quite a lot of the time but with you, you saw more than what he often portrayed. Just like now. His words were wise and sweet, a comforting balm.

You nod, appreciating his understanding. “I guess I just don’t know what to do with myself now that things are so... stable.”

Wrecker turns onto his side to face you, his eyes gentle and kind, reflecting the starlight. “You’re not alone in this. We all feel it sometimes. But maybe it’s a chance to find new things that make us happy.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Like what?”

He grins, his natural smile shining through and lighting up his features. “Like spending more time together, finding our own new adventures! Even if they’re not as crazy as the old ones.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the night breeze. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

He reaches out, his large hand enveloping yours in a comforting hold, his touch grounding you. “We’ll figure it out.”

Looking into his eyes, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, as well as a soft flutter in your chest. “Thank you, Wrecker. That means a lot.”

As the two of you turn your attention back to the stars, basking in the tranquility of it all, you start to ponder why Wrecker had come all the way out here for you.

“So,” you start, trying to stop yourself from gushing at the thought of him looking for you, “I don’t think you came out here just to listen to me whine about my non-existent problems. Why’d you come?”

He chuckles again, his rough and large hands gliding almost gracefully over the tall grass as he turns his head to you. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright and…”

You raise a brow. “And?” you ask, noticing the almost nervous look on his handsome face.

“To see if there was anything I could do.”

“Is there anything you could do?” Your voice suddenly grows quieter as you lock eyes, a silent conversation flickering between you.

You watch as his tongue dabs his lips, an innocent gesture that makes the tips of your fingers tingle and your cheeks burn. “Let me distract you,” he finally answers after a brief silence, his tone low and somewhat... seductive.

You inhale a sharp breath. “How would you do that?”

He smiles softly, yet his eyes burn with hunger. A hunger for you. “With a kiss.”

Suddenly, you can feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the cold night suddenly feeling much warmer. Your mind races as the unspoken attraction between you both was clearly now out in the open.

He watches you for a moment and as you give a subtle nod, slowly, he moves closer. His hand reaches up to gently cradle your face. To others, they may expect his touch to be rough and demanding but you knee Wrecker. You were already familiar with how gentle he was when you both cuddled and tonight was no exception. Gasping under his touch, you almost melt as you can feel his breath, warm, inviting and oddly minty.

Your eyes flutter closed, anticipation building as he places one hand at the side of your head as he leans over you… and then leans in.

His lips are soft, but tentative. You were fairly certain his eyes were closed too as when you gently place the tips of your fingers to his jaw, he gasps quietly as if the touch shocked him. But it was the spark between you both that ignites into something more passionate.

You respond eagerly, your hands moving finding their way to his broad and muscular shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath your fingertips. His body tenses under your touch, a silent indication of his own rising desire. Propping yourself up on your elbows, it is you who imitates a deeper kiss; raw and intense.

Eventually, as you break apart for air, you look into his eyes. Both of you are breathing heavily as he asks, “Was that enough of a distraction?”

It was, absolutely. Yet, being alone with him under the stars made you feel something else other than the clear love you have for him: lust.

With shy eyes, you lick your lower lip and suppress the moan as you still could taste his lips on yours and say, “What if I say no?”

He raises his scarred brow, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Was it, uh, not good enough?”

“It was,” you say swiftly before taking a leap of faith as you gently push on his shoulders, allowing him to move back onto his back again. He’s about to ask what you were doing but halts speaking as you swing one leg over the side of him, straddling him comfortably. You see the rise and fall of his chest, his hands helplessly in the air as he doesn’t quite know where to place them, and his mouth agape in awe.

“But what if I said it wasn’t ‘enough’?” you hint, head tilting to the side as you find courage in knowing what to do next, which is to slowly remove your shirt.

He watches you, eyes widening as you pull your shirt off from over your head, exposing yourself to him. It wasn’t surprising that you weren’t wearing a bra, given the late hour, maybe even the early hours of the morning when you should have been sleeping. But he didn’t care. In fact, it took him a good moment or two to remember to breathe. “You… you’re…”

But he can’t think of the words, and instead, grabs at your hips before his lips descend upon yours once again, his tongue lapping at your lower lip as it begs for entrance, which you so happily grant.

You moan into his mouth, his tongue wrapping and fighting with yours as his left hand trails up your body, cupping your breasts and gently gliding his thumb over your stiffening nipples (you’re convinced it wasn’t just the cold air that was making them so hard).

His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but arch into his hand, craving more. You break the kiss, panting softly against his lips, and then stand up, your fingers trembling with anticipation as you unbutton your pants. You slide them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet before stepping out of them, standing before him in just your panties.

His eyes roam over your body, darkening with desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, looking at you as if you were a deity.

You smile, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at his words. Then, with deliberate slowness, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slide them down, exposing yourself completely to him.

His breath hitches, and you can see the raw hunger in his eyes as he palms his cock over his pants eagerly. Kriff, he looked huge. Now that’s not so surprising either.

You lower yourself back down, straddling him once more, feeling the hard length of him pressing against you through his pants. Body tingling, you began to grind your hips slowly, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“Is this what ya want babe?” He asks with a slight husk to his tone, his eyes looking down as your pussy rubs up against him.

“I do,” you whisper, entrancing him, “do you?”

“There’s nothing in this galaxy that would make me say no.” He replies, his hands moving to your hips, guiding your movements.

With careful hands, you began reaching down to unfasten his pants, your fingers brushing against the hard bulge that strains against the fabric that you then politely tug, hoping he gets the hint.

And he does. He lifts his hips to help you, and soon enough you have his pants and underwear pushed down, freeing his thick,hard and big length. Very, big.

Your eyes widen slightly at the sight, but the thrill of anticipation outweighs any hesitation. It was easily possible to wrap maybe two, three hands around his cock and maybe even have room to spare. A part of you thought maybe his large stature and muscles would perhaps be there to compensate him… clearly not.

He takes a hold of his cock, slowly stroking it as he watches you watch him. “Does it make you nervous?”

No. You were excited. Horny. Eager.

Therefore answering his question, you position yourself above him, the tip of his cock brushing against your wet folds, and slowly lower yourself down, taking him inch by inch.

The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, makes you moan softly, your hands resting on his chest for support. He grunts, eyes tightly closing as his hands grip your hips as he helps guide you down until you’re fully seated on him.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You begin to move, slowly at first, lifting yourself up before sinking back down, setting a steady rhythm. There’s a small sting to it but each time you take him deep inside you, the stinging fades and is overridden with a wave of pleasure, and your moans grow more frequent, more desperate.

Wrecker’s hands roam your body, one hand coming up to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple before he leans forward and takes it between his lips, his tongue teasing and poking it while the other rests on your hip. “You can be louder,” he rasps, his voice thick with lust as he sucks on your tits hungrily. “It’s just us.”

His words, his actions spur you on, and you let yourself go, moaning his name, crying out with each thrust you drove down on him. The friction of his cock inside you, the way he stretches you, fills you, drives you wild with need.

“Wrecker, oh, oh fuuuck,” you pant, your movements becoming more frantic as you ride him, the pressure building inside you as your pace changes from up and down to forward and back.

“You feel so good,” he growls as he leans back to allow his hips to buck up to meet yours with a demanding pace, piercing himself deeper into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You lean down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues tangling together as you both move in perfect harmony. The sound of your wetness, the slap of skin against skin, fills the night air.

“I’m close,” you whimper against his lips, almost embarrassed that you were so quick to cum but fuck, Wrecker was making your body tremble and making you see stars even with your eyes closed.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He urges, his voice a soft command. “I want to feel you cum around me.”

His words push you over the edge, and with a cry, you climax, your walls clenching around him, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Wrecker’s grip tightens on your hips, and with a deep, guttural groan of his own, he thrusts up into you one last time, his large cock pulsing as he spills himself deep inside you. The feeling of his warmth seed filling you only boosts your own high, prolonging the ecstasy.

As you both come down from the high, you collapse against him, your bodies slick with sweat. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “That was… incredible,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

He chuckles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it was.”

But, the feeling of the heat of the moment doesn’t end for you. You lean in for another kiss, your lips meeting softly before you pull back just enough to whisper, “I want more.”

“I have to more give,” he pants, eyes blown with a renewed desire. “Anything you want.”

He instructs you to lie back and so you climb off him and lay in the tall grass once again and this time, watch in awe as he stands and strips himself completely bare.The starlight bathes his skin, casting a soft, ethereal glow over his build. You may have looked like a deity to him but he looked like a God to you as the cool air kisses both of your skin.

He crouches down in front of you, his cock glistening with both of your combined juices as he hooks your leg with his thigh and spreads you open. He positions himself again, his tip brushing over your aching clit that makes your whole body twitch before he slots back into you with a hefty moan.

“You’re so big,” you whine in pleasure as the sensation of his cock filling you completely again is almost overwhelming.

“You can take it,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips again. “You’re doing so good.” He praises.

He locks you in, leaning over you as he begins his slow and loving ruts against your pussy.

You’re already tender but it was a feeling that had you craving more. Your legs wrap around his waist, one hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his head as you both succumb to the stars without a care in the galaxy. Maybe this was your fulfillment

All what mattered right now, was you and him.

More Wrecker Works

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@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora

#wrecker x reader #the bad batch wrecker #wrecker the bad batch x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #the bad batch #wrecker bad batch x reader #wrecker x you

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

Photo

A post about Pirlouit’s debut as a noble steed! (Part II)

Our destination for this first trip on donkeyback was the nearest farm on the plateau (+ the three houses which together with it form a small isolated hamlet), to say happy new year to these neighbours. It’s not very far when I go with Pandolf because we take a shortcut through the forest and then straight across the plateau (patchworked with small pastures), slipping under every fence. But my donkey is too dignified to crawl under fences, so we had to take the road, which is a longer but also very nice itinerary. There are maybe 3 cars per day on average, but it’s a snowplough-forsaken road so in winter it’s basically zero (except the postwoman).

I wasn’t riding him at first because he didn’t want me to—I tried and he instantly stopped and turned back towards his pasture. I think he was a bit nervous about being on the road, and preferred to follow another animal. I was saying in the previous post that I started riding him in the past year, but as I don’t have a bridle for him and he’s terrified of riding crops (or any sticks), it’s hard to make him do things he doesn’t want to do (I suspect it would be hard anyway).

So my strategy has been to treat him less like a car and more like a bus—i.e. I hop on when he’s going somewhere I also want to go. My first attempts to do so were when we were at one end of his pasture and he saw the llamas at the other end looking interested in something (food?? visitor?) and wanted to check it out too (visitor = scary, but could be bringing food. Worth having a closer look.) At first Pirou was like uhhhh no and just stopped walking when he realised he had a hitchhiker on his back, but after a while he started tolerating me for these short trips across the pasture.

Step 2 was taking him on a walk (by foot) in the woods behind my house, letting him eat brambles and clean up the place along the way, and when he started showing signs of wanting to return to his pasture I’d climb on his back like “don’t mind me, live your life!” and he would grudgingly resume walking like okay, since you’re not making me do anything you can stay.

Then I started tying his rope to the side buckles of his halter so I could tug his head left or right (+ encouraging leg squeezes) and make gentle itinerary suggestions. When he was in the mood for it we could do little slaloms around trees; when he wasn’t (if it was too close to dinner time) he’d just ignore me and dash straight ahead so the llamas wouldn’t eat all the hay. (I’ve tried to explain to him that there will be no hay if I’m not here to give it, and his FOMO is based on a fundamental misunderstanding of my role in his life, but to no avail.)

He still very much interprets my tugs on the ‘reins’ and hip- or leg-based indications re: direction and pace as humble opinions from his rider that he has the power to veto since he’s the one walking after all, and I think that’s fair. It wasn’t a problem for our trip to the farm because there’s just one road to go there, all you have to do is follow it without any directional fine-tuning. After a while walking on that perfectly quiet road without coming across a single car, Pirlouit started looking more confident and I tried to hop on his back again, and this time he was like pfff okay, and kept walking :) But from then on he viewed himself as the de facto leader of our trip. His first executive decision was to walk on the side of the road, where there’s grass under the snow, rather than on the snowy asphalt—I think he worried about hidden patches of ice.

Sometimes he’d stop for a few minutes to contemplate the horizon and think about life. I figured he’d walk faster and maybe even trot once we were on our way back and dinnertime was approaching, so I didn’t mind the leisurely pace.

At one point he wandered off the road and I dismounted to lead him back in the right direction, but then realised he’d heard water sounds and had decided to stop for a drink in this rivulet. I was like “there’s a communal water trough at the hamlet but you don’t know that, so, okay.” But when we got there, the trough turned out to be frozen so Pirlouit was right to play it safe!

He also stopped every so often for a snack, I assume following the same approach of “better safe than sorry, I might never find food again.” I had a book in my coat pocket so I would read a few paragraphs while he ate. He always picked the thorniest bushes and prickliest brambles he could find. I ended up getting the feeling he was showing off a bit—maybe donkeys dare each other to eat thorny bushes the way humans do with spicy food.

I dismounted again to take a picture here because this rare, straight portion of the winding road really made me wish I had a sleigh! Imagine Pirlouit all festooned with bells too, he would hate it <3

As we found the first pasture that belongs to my farmer neighbour, Pirlouit stopped, looking mesmerised. Maybe it smelled good? He stood there for a bit like “Look! A mountain of hay bales! This road led to donkey heaven and I had no idea”

When we reached civilisation (i.e. 3 houses) I dismounted for good as Pirlouit got very hesitant. He’d forgotten the existence of houses that aren’t ours.

He was also a bit terrified by the concept of chickens that aren’t ours. He refused to take a single more step in the direction of Unknown Chickens so I ended up backtracking and tying him to a post next to a suitably thorny bush, before going on my social visits.

I used to know the farmer on the plateau because Pampe eloped to his farm a lot when she was a kid, but then he retired and sold his farm to a young couple, and I kept thinking, “Well I’ll meet them next time Pampe escapes” but she never escaped that far again! So I finally met the new neighbour (I only met the guy, his wife wasn’t here) six months after he arrived, and I explained my llama-based reason for not visiting sooner, and he basically said “yeah I’ve heard about your llama menace. I’ll be happy to meet her if she ever feels like hiking all the way to my farm again!” He was very nice. I also went to wish a happy new year to the other neighbours but only one of them was home. I left my New Year card featuring baby Poldine at the other two houses—I placed one of them in a garden gnome’s hands which made me feel like an Austen character paying calls and leaving calling cards to the servant.

Pirlouit was quiet and patient at first, but then he finished eating his shrub (I assume) and started braying indignantly. Clearly I had left him here to die of exposure while I feasted inside a warm house and it was getting late and he was going to miss hay o’clock and he was the loneliest saddest hungriest donkey in the whole world and oh, you’re here! (stops mid-bray)

He was very eager to go home before the llamas ate all the hay (again—without me there’s no—oh, never mind) and didn’t even stop to grumble when I climbed on his back again, he was like fine whatever but HURRY!, and walked at record speed on the way back. But didn’t trot, because icy ground.

He didn’t stop to contemplate the horizon and his place in the universe this time around, but I still managed to capture some lovely pink and gold skies here and there :) (and the fires of Mordor after the sun disappeared for good) (and then it got really cold and Pirou & I were united in our haste to get home.)

#crawling along #as always i am grateful to people who take the time to read my long posts! i don't know how to be brief 😭

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lixiepixiedust · 6 months

Text

friends

pairing — badboy!felix x fem!reader; highschool au; friends w/ benefits

word count — 3.1k words

warnings — she/her reader, they argue way too much in this, jealousy (both ways), felix is kinda aggressive, uses of korean names, suggestive, small make out, almost sex

summary — you and felix have been friends with benefits for far too many months and everyone knows you secretly like each other. when mutual jealousy arises, you too get into an argument that makes your feelings way too obvious its silly.

"Y/n!" A boy in your year approached you with an eager expression. His name was Juwon, and you two have talked a few times in Chemistry class. He was nice, super weird, but nice. You still tried to avoid him when could since being around him was often draining.

You chuckled awkwardly, "Hey, what's up?" you asked.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, lowering his voice.

"Sure," you replied with a forced smile.

"You know, Felix?" he blurted out quickly. "Are you dating him?"

Your smile faded as your eyebrows furrowed, "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know, I've just noticed you two walking home together and chatting in the hallways," he explained defensively.

"Are you stalking us?" you asked skeptically.

"No! I'm not stalking you," he clarified.

"Ok, this is kinda weirding me out," you chuckled, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I just see you two so often," he said.

You raised an eyebrow, still puzzled by Juwon's sudden interest in your relationship with Felix. "Okay, but why do you care if Felix and I are dating or not?"

Juwon scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, um, the thing is, I sorta have a crush on you."

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that confession. "Oh," you said, not sure how to respond. You took a moment to process this information. It explained his odd behavior and sudden interest in your personal life. "Look, Juwon, I have to be honest too—I'm not looking to date anyone right now. I've got a lot going on."

Juwon nodded, disappointment evident on his face. "Oh, I see. Well, I guess I just wanted to know for sure. Sorry if I made it weird."

"It's okay, Juwon. I appreciate you being upfront about it," you said, trying to ease the awkward tension.

"Well, you know, cause you're not with anyone, I was wondering if, I could get your number, though?" he asked tentatively.

You thought about it for a moment. Despite his quirks, Juwon seemed like a genuinely nice person. "If you want it, you have to promise me it's just as friends," you said with a small smile. "I hope you understand that's all I'm looking for right now."

"Nevermind, then," he replied, a bit crestfallen. "Bye, Y/n."

After Juwon left, you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and sympathy for him. You gathered your things and decided to take a break in the hallway. As you walked towards your locker, you couldn't help but mull over the recent encounter. The hallway was relatively quiet, and you leaned against your locker, staring absentmindedly at the passing students.

As you were lost in thought, contemplating the conversation with Juwon, you suddenly heard familiar laughter approaching. Turning your head, you saw your boy best friend, Felix, walking down the hallway, engaged in a lively conversation with a girl who's name you completely forgot. They seemed to be getting along well, laughing and sharing jokes as they walked.

A strange sensation gripped your stomach, a mix of surprise and discomfort. You didn't expect Felix to be chatting so animatedly with another girl, and for some reason, it made you feel a twinge of jealousy. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the irrational feeling. After all, you and Felix were not dating yet, and you had no right to be possessive or jealous.

Felix looked up, and his gaze met yours. That familiar smirk played on his lips as his flirty eyes eyed you up and down, assessing you. You couldn't help but clutch your bag. You gave him a small wave, matching his energy, but he then continued his conversation with the girl beside him.

As you turned away from Felix, trying to shake off the strange feeling in your stomach, you unlocked your locker and gathered your homework and textbooks. With a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself before making your way to find, your bestfriend, Chaewon.

Spotting her not too far away, you weaved through the crowd and approached her. Chaewon's eyes lit up when she saw you, and she enveloped you in a tight hug. "Y/n! How's it going?" she exclaimed.

You returned the hug, grateful for the comfort of a friend. "Hey, Chaewon. It's been a bit of a day, to be honest. How are you?"

"I'm great! I'm ahead on all my work. Come to my locker, tell me everything."

You nodded, and you both made your way to her locker away from the bustling students. You stood beside her as you shared a bit about the encounter with Juwon and the unexpected interaction with Felix and the girl.

Chaewon listened attentively, concern evident on her face as she closed her locker. "Sounds like a lot's happening. You know, guys can be so confusing sometimes. Maybe Felix was just being friendly with that girl, you know, like how he is with everyone? You two have been fucking for like months, there's nothing getting in your way."

You chuckled nudging her playfully. "I'm not worried about that." you lied.

As you continued chatting, Chaewon suddenly looked past your shoulder, her eyes widening slightly. "Hey, speaking of the elephant in the room," she said, pointing discreetly behind you.

You turned around, and indeed, Felix was leaning against a nearby wall, observing the two of you with a playful smirk on his face. Your heart skipped a beat as you caught his gaze. "Hey, Y/n." he called, strolling over with a confident stride.

Chaewon shot you a knowing look before excusing herself, purposely leaving you alone with Felix. "What's up, Felix?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

He leaned against the locker beside you. "Just wanted to see you. How was today? We didn't have time to talk at all."

"Yeah, um, nothing else besides Lee Juwon asking if we were dating," you admitted, avoiding eye contact with Felix.

Felix raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You sighed, "I don't even think I gave him an answer after all. Then he told me he liked me."

Felix remained silent for a moment, his jaw tensing. "Juwon has a crush on you?" he repeated, his tone more serious than before.

"Yeah," you continued, "he asked for my number, but I made it clear that I'm not looking to date anyone right now. I just wanted to be honest with him, cause I would've told him we weren't dating."

Felix's expression shifted, a subtle disappointment flickering across his face. "Oh," he said, his usual playful demeanor momentarily subdued.

"Yeah, sorry if that's not what you were expecting," you added, feeling a bit uneasy about the whole situation.

Felix leaned back against the lockers, running a hand through his hair. "No, it's cool."

You nodded, appreciating his nonchalant response. "I mean, we're just hanging out, right?"

"Right," he said, though there was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite place.

After a moment of silence, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been bothering you. "By the way, who was that girl you were talking to earlier?"

Felix's expression brightened a bit as he remembered the interaction. "Oh, her? Just someone from my last period class. We started talking recently. She's cool." Felix nudged you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, though."

You tilted your head, trying to maintain your composure. "Oh, I'm not worried. Why would I have any reason to be worried?"

Felix chuckled, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Right, right. We're just hanging out, after all."

The mocking tone in Felix's words didn't go unnoticed by you. You felt a surge of frustration, but you tried to brush it off. "Exactly, just friends," you replied with a forced smile.

Felix's smirk widened, and he looked down at you, a subtle condescension in his gaze. "Glad we're on the same page, then."

Your irritation grew, but you bit your lip, choosing not to escalate the situation. "Yeah."

The tension between you and Felix lingered as the conversation continued. The casual banter that usually flowed between you two felt strained, and there was an unspoken frustration in the air.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you found yourself heading towards the exit with a mix of apprehension and determination. You reached the school gates and you noticed Felix a few steps ahead of you, also making his way out. The distance between you felt like a vast chasm, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite the silence, Felix glanced back and caught your eye, a momentary flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

When you stepped out into the fresh air, Felix slowed down, allowing you to catch up. He reached over and effortlessly took your bag off your shoulders to carry it for you, a gesture he had made a habit of since the beginning of your friendship. It was a small comfort, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that seemed strained at the moment.

The two of you walked side by side, the silence becoming almost suffocating. However, Felix's act of taking your bag spoke volumes. Even in the midst of frustration and unspoken words, he didn't want you to bear the weight alone.

"So, Felix, anything interesting happen with you today?" you asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness.

Felix shrugged, his eyes still holding a hint of irritation. "Not really, just the usual. Classes, hanging out, you know." He snapped sarcastically.

"Mhm," you replied.

The silence that followed was filled with an uncomfortable energy. You could sense Felix's annoyance, and you were growing increasingly frustrated yourself. It was as if the unspoken tension was bubbling just beneath the surface.

Finally, Felix broke the silence with a sarcastic chuckle. "So, you and Juwon, huh? Quite the love triangle developing here."

You rolled your eyes, irritation rising. "Don't be ridiculous, Felix. It's not like that. I told you I rejected him."

He raised an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. "Sure, sure. After all, we're just friends, right?"

You clenched your jaw, annoyed by his insinuations. "Yes, Felix, just friends. Is that so hard to believe?"

He leaned in closer, a challenging glint in his eyes. "Well, if we're just friends, then why do we-"

"Felix, stop." You interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

Felix sighed. "I was about to say: Why did it bother you so much to see me talking to another girl?" That was clearly not what he was about to say.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "It didn't bother me. I was just curious. That's all."

Felix's smirk only widened. "Curious, huh? Seems like someone's a little more invested than they're letting on."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "You know what, Felix? This whole thing is ridiculous. If you're going to act like this, maybe we should just stick to being actual friends and nothing more."

"Wait, I thought we were friends to begin with." Felix laughed which pushed your buttons even more.

The irritation between you and Felix continued to escalate as you walked towards the intersection where you two normally split up to go to your own houses after school.

Finally reaching the familiar crossroad, you stopped and turned to face Felix. "Give me my bag."

Felix crossed his arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, come on, Y/n. No need to be so uptight about it."

You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Felix, I mean it. I just want to go home."

He chuckled, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. "You know, you're being quite stubborn about this. What's the harm in hanging out a bit more? We're just friends, right? "

You sighed, feeling a mix of annoyance and fatigue. "Felix, we're not in the mood for this right now. Can we please just go our separate ways?"

But instead of acquiescing, Felix shook his head with a playful smirk. "Nah, I've got a better idea. How about you come over to my place?'"

The irritation reached its peak as you reluctantly allowed him to guide you in the direction of his house. "Fine, but only for a little while. I've got things to do."

Felix grinned triumphantly, his playful demeanor seemingly unaffected by the tension. "Deal."

As you and Felix approached his house, a familiar sense of comfort washed over you. You had been there countless times before, and despite the current tension between you two, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of happiness at the prospect of spending time in a familiar environment.

Felix swung open the door with his usual flair, ushering you inside. The air inside his house was filled with a mix of warmth and familiarity.

You had been to Felix's house many times before, and despite the current tension between you two, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the prospect of spending time there.

Reaching Felix's front door, he swung it open with a flourish, gesturing for you to enter. "After you, my friend,"

You stepped inside, the familiar surroundings evoking a strange mix of emotions. It was a place filled with memories of laughter, shared secrets, and casual hangouts. The familiarity momentarily lifted your spirits, and you found yourself slipping into a momentary sense of contentment.

Felix closed the door behind you, and you both made your way to the living room. "So, what do you feel like doing? Homework?" Felix asked, attempting to break the awkward silence.

You hesitated for a moment, still grappling with the unresolved tension between you two. "Honestly, Felix, I don't know why you insisted on dragging me here."

Felix plopped down on the couch, looking at you with a casual grin, ignoring your question. "Or..." he took your hand and pulled you onto the couch with him, "My parents aren't home, but that doesn't matter cause we're just friends hanging out, right"

"Why can't you let it go, Felix?" you retorted, your frustration reaching a boiling point. "I don't understand why you're so pressed about this whole thing."

Felix's anger suddenly bursted out of nowhere. "Because we're not just friends, and you damn well know it!"

His words hung in the air, the weight of the unspoken tension finally surfacing. Before you could respond, Felix closed the distance between you two in an instant. The sudden intensity caught you off guard as he slightly pushed your shoulders against the side of the couch, pulling you into a hot, angry kiss.

The kiss was a collision of conflicting emotions—frustration, desire, and a hint of desperation. Felix's lips pressed against yours with a fiery intensity, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words. The anger that had simmered between you two transformed into a raw, passionate exchange.

For a moment, you were suspended in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. The familiarity of Felix's touch, coupled with the undeniable chemistry, ignited a spark that had been smoldering beneath the surface. It was a heated kiss that spoke volumes, a silent admission of the unspoken connection that neither of you could deny.

The air crackled with the intensity of the moment, and for that brief instant, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist. The kiss lingered for what felt like an eternity, and as Felix finally pulled away, hovering over you.

Felix's eyes bore into yours, looking down on you. "Do friends make out every week, or is that just us?"

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, the conflicting desire within you. "Just us," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"So, we're not just friends, are we?"

Felix, sensing the subtle shift, leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze that spoke volumes. Without saying a word, he traced a gentle path with his fingers along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath caught as Felix's lips latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and your heart raced in response to the unexpected touch. His kiss was rough, mirroring the unspoken desire between you.

Felix sucked on your neck, leaving a mark. It sent a wave of tingles through your body, and you couldn't deny the magnetic pull that drew you closer. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against your skin.

As Felix continued to explore the delicate curve of your neck, a mix of emotions flooded your senses—desire, uncertainty, and the undeniable chemistry that had always simmered beneath the surface. It was a moment suspended in time, where the boundaries between friendship and something more became increasingly blurred.

Finally, Felix pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of playfulness and sincerity. "Friends don't usually do that, do they?"

You took a deep breath, attempting to process the whirlwind of emotions that had just unfolded. Felix's eyes searched yours for a reaction, and a vulnerable tension lingered in the air.

"No," you replied, your voice dripped with lust.

Felix grinned, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I guess that means we've crossed the line ages ago."

He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned in for another kiss, the intensity of the moment still lingering. You reciprocated the kiss, but as Felix's hands began to wander up your skirt, you felt a surge of hesitation. Even though you two have had sex a few times already, you first needed to talk this whole thing out. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze with a hint of caution. "Felix," you breathed out, "Stop, slow down."

Felix's hands halted immediately as you pulled away, and he looked at you with an understanding expression. The room, once charged with a heated atmosphere, seemed to cool down as Felix maintained a respectful distance.

"Sorry," he said softly, catching his breath. "I got carried away."

"It's okay," you replied, your voice a bit shaky.

As the tension eased, Felix reached out to gently fix your hair, his touch tender and considerate.

Felix, with his usual playful demeanor, leaned back with a smirk, the glint of mischief in his eyes undiminished. "Well, that was unexpected of friends, right?"

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vampireimiko · 11 months

Note

omg! could you make a miguel fic were like him and reader are like mom and dad to hobie pav miles and gwen. miguel being the like strict dad n reader being the mom that defends her kids with her life n yells at him when he’s being to mean😭

protective mom mode: activate!

warnings, none !! just the reader being protective over her kids 🦭

note, AGHHH i actually love this request sm but it's been sitting in my inbox for a while so i wanted to get it out, HOWEVER. i might add on more to this scenario and make it sillier :3

If there was one thing everybody around Spider-Society knew, it's that Miguel was super strict and almost always being serious. He was known for being harder on younger spider people. While you were the polar opposite, you were nice and understanding, and loved to joke around from time to time. You were known for being someone younger spider people could come too.

So with that being said, the younger spider people, as in Miles, Pav, Hobie, and Gwen could always come to you for safety whenever Miguel was about to scold them. For example, just yesterday Miguel was about to get on all four of them for almost jeopardizing a mission.

"Miguel we understand what you're saying but-" Gwen started only get cutoff by Miguel who has his hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face.

"No! You clearly don't understand! You 4 show me time after time again that you can't be trusted going on a mission together because all you do is-!" Miguel is then interrupted by YOU this time. Except this time, he goes quiet by himself. Your presence was enough to shut him up whenever he got to talking crazy. Cause if there was one thing about you, you did not play about those kids.

"Miguel, leave them babies alone! They ain't did nothing wrong!" You intervened, not letting him get in another word of scolding in. Miles and Hobie couldn't help but stifile a laugh at your intrusion which caused Gwen and Pav to bump shoulders with the two while also trying to stop themselves from laughing.

Miguel's eyes narrowed at your interruption, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his expression. He knew better than to argue with you when you adopted that protective stance towards the 4 younger spider kids.

You stepped forward, placing a hand on Miguel's arm in a gesture of both reassurance and defiance. "Look, I get it, Miguel. You want to keep them safe, and that's admirable. But they're still learning, and they need room to make mistakes and grow. We were all in their shoes once."

Miguel let out a sigh, his initial frustration giving way to a more measured contemplation. He glanced at the group of 4 once more before finally nodding, acknowledging the truth in your words.

"You're right," he admitted, his tone softer now. "They do need both sides of the coin. I'll work on finding a better balance."

A collective sigh of relief escaped from the younger spider people as they realized they had been spared from a severe scolding. They exchanged grateful glances and offered you appreciative smiles.

"I know I'm right, now watch your mouth when you speaking my kids like that." You playfully said rolling your eyes. You then turned towards the group of four, "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; FINALLY GOT ALL FIVE OF MY REQUESTS DONE 🫶🏾 opening requests up tonight methinks

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirit's works 🤍#miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #spiderverse x reader

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luveline · 11 months

Note

hi sweetheart , ur amazing , was wondering if you could write an eddie & roan fic , where whereas eddie was in the hospital that one time , its r’s turn , not to serious but definitely something youd fine yourself worrying about ! and ed and roanie r so worried , sorta like the scene from the work trip 🥹

PLS i love u angel

thank you for your request, ilove u! eddie and roan —dad!eddie juggles his daughter roan, nearly step mom!you, and his own rollercoaster emotions when you end up in hospital for a few days. 4k

cw hospital stay, seizure recovery, temporary paralysis

Eddie's never been this tired in his entire life, and he can't sleep.

He looks up at his bedroom ceiling (your ceiling, your house), hands under his back in the same clothes he wore yesterday. She'll worry if I show up looking like a slob, he thinks eventually, getting up to shower. The last thing he wants to do when he can't take care of you is take care of himself, but he has to, because that's what you'd want if you were home.

Roan is stirring by the time he's dressed again. He tugs his socks on and walks across the landing, residual steam from the bathroom warming the air, his hair dripping a cool path down his back.

He creeps over a mess of things that hasn't been touched in two days. Roan's eyes fly open at the sound, but she sees him and they squint to a more sluggish expression, little hands rubbing sleep from her eyelashes.

Eddie thinks maybe she thought he was you.

"Hey, bubby," he says, as loving and bubbly as he can manage, "did you have a nice sleep?"

"Can we go see Y/N now?" she asks hoarsely.

Eddie sits on the side of her bed and pulls her effortlessly into his lap. She's boiling from the sheets, her hair curled tight at her neck from the heat.

"Remember what I said yesterday about visiting hours?" He strokes hair from her face gently, an arm wrapped around her waist to say I'm here. "They won't let us in until nine, and it's not eight yet."

He drops his nose into her hair.

"Maybe we can go get a really yummy breakfast," he suggests, thinking about you. You're probably awake, and if he's lucky you've eaten your own breakfast, but it's more likely you've refused it if you're as lethargic as you were yesterday.

"I don't want diner burgers anymore," Roan says.

Eddie gives her a kiss and her back a rub. "No, I bet you don't. Sorry, sweetheart, it's not nice having the same foods for two days in a row, is it? That's my fault."

"It's okay. Let's make waffles."

He kisses her forehead, taking a contemplative breather, just the two of them in their quiet house, her body a familiar weight in his lap. The sun is up and shining through her window, sunlight across the floor and her spilled toybox. It doesn't quite reach them on the bed, and Eddie snorts at it. Of course it doesn't. Home without you isn't sunny.

"Waffles," he agrees.

They make waffles with leftover strawberries and squirty cream. Roan is perky enough to want to have some straight from the can, giggling a storm when he plops a dollop of it onto her nose. He gets her ready as she eats, brushing her knotty hair and changing her pyjamas for a striped long sleeve shirt, wool leggings, and a dungaree dress you'd begged him to buy for her. The front pocket sports a small embroidered Russian doll.

She should've had a bath, but it's getting on, and Eddie wants to get to Hawkins General dead on visiting time. She's not dirty, just her hair isn't as nice as it could be. He figures the universe will forgive him.

He really has to see you.

Getting Roan into the car rehashes a fresh memory. The day before yesterday… things should've been normal. Eddie was walking out of the shop, keys swinging around his finger ready to see his girls for your usual Friday plans: movies on the couch until one or all of you falls asleep. He's thinking kettle corn, a sheet of a dozen donuts, a gallon of Roan's favourite grapefruit juice and maybe another punnet of strawberries so she can dip them in chocolate and sugar.

But Wayne jogged out after him calling his name. There was a phone call from your work, your coworker frantic.

Eddie blinks and shoves his keys into the car, listening to the engine sputter, trying to focus. A tonic-clonic seizure, seven minutes counted before it stopped. You were already in the ambulance when they called.

"What do I do?" Eddie'd asked, frozen to the spot. His heart pounding unsteadily in his chest, the image of you in convulsions behind his eyes. "What do I–"

"You go to the hospital," Wayne said, because of course that's what he had to do.

Wayne vowed to pick up Roan and Eddie got in the car. His hands shook so bad he couldn't turn the key at first, but he managed it, and he got to Hawkins General in one piece, and he didn't panic at the reception desk asking if you'd been checked in yet.

Eddie doesn't think he'd described you as looking small before, but you looked small. They laid you out in a snug bed with square orange stickers on your head, chest, and arms, unconscious. You didn't wake up for hours.

And that was normal, Eddie reminds himself now, the car huffing and puffing its way down roads he's been driving on for almost a decade now on autopilot. You had a standard generalised tonic-clonic seizure. It started from nowhere, though they later found your blood sugar had been very low. That was deemed the cause. Eddie blames himself for it in a hundred different ways, remembering that morning, how he'd made you late for work cuddling you when you should've been getting ready.

You skipped breakfast. He thought you'd have something on the way, but you never did.

It's my fault, he thinks, then and now, the same thought that's plagued him for three days.

"Do we wanna talk about how we feel today?" Eddie asks, tearing himself away from the aching remembered fear and back into the present. Five minutes until he gets to see you again, until he knows for sure you're alright.

"I feel okay. I want to see mom."

"We're almost there. You have your flowers from the back yard?"

Roan waves her picked daisies at him assuredly. Eddie hadn't thought to buy you flowers. He could barely manage the essentials; pyjamas, toothpaste and lip balm. He forgot to get you a toothbrush. He forgot underwear —he had to go back to the store. It was a disaster.

"What about scary feelings?" Eddie asks softly, reaching back to make a grab for her knee.

"You said she's okay now." Roan sits forward. "What if her arms stop working again?"

It was only one arm. You could've come home yesterday if you hadn't been experiencing a weakness called 'Todd's Paresis', a paralysis of the limbs. You slowly regained functionality of it throughout the day, but your headache and confusion remained.

Eddie thinks that was the worst part. You, in bed, crying because you didn't understand. His eyes burn and well with tears every time he thinks about it. Eddie, I feel sick, you'd mumbled tearfully, reaching for his arm, smudging his tattoos between your careless fingers, I don't know what's– why are we here?

But you were genuinely going to be fine, even if you were scared. In the same way Eddie's going to be okay, and Roan will be, too, as long as he makes sure this isn't hurting her as it's happening.

"Baby, I promise you her arms won't stop working again. When she had the seizure," —he doesn't like using a big word like that with her, only there's no alternative and she needs to know— "her brain was confused. It was confused for a couple of hours, 'n' when she woke up her body needed time to catch up." He doesn't know how true it is, but it's for Roan to understand her feelings, not to help her medicinal education. "When we said goodnight she could wave bye to us, yeah? So don't worry about mommy's arm."

"I'm worried about mommy's everything."

"Yeah?" Eddie feels a mixture of stress at her admission and relief as the hospital parking lot creeps into view. "You want to tell me?"

"What if she gets another one?"

"Another seizure?" Eddie asks, turning the wheel. All he has to do is drive into the lot and find a space without crashing.

"Will she have to come back to hospital?" Roan asks.

"Yeah, she would have to come back. But… okay, sometimes, people have lots of seizures all the time, and they aren't dangerous. Sometimes they are dangerous," he amends. "But lots of the time they're not. So if she did have more, I would make sure she didn't get hurt and we would have to be brave all over again. We can do that, can't we?"

He parks the car.

Roan doesn't look as though his explanation helped. Eddie's running on an empty tank, scrubbing his hands through half dried hair and wishing he was better at this. He gets out of the front seat and opens her door, unclicking her straps, helping her down onto her feet.

"Babe, I forgot your jacket," he says, surprised at himself as he realises she only has two layers. "Are you cold?"

She holds out her arms and assesses for herself. "I think so."

"You'll have to come inside my hoodie. Shall we do that?" he asks with a grin.

Eddie picks Roan up, has her cling to his neck, and zips his hoodie up over her body, their head sticking out of the hole all squished together. She's a laughing mess as they cross the lot and head into the main building of the hospital, infectiously happy as she calls him, "so silly, daddy."

They do look silly, but Eddie's glad he forgot her jacket. It's nice to hear her laughing like that after such a tough weekend, far from the one he'd pictured.

He tries to set her down after they've entered the elevator, but she won't go. He holds her tighter instead.

"We're going to be nice and quiet on the ward 'cos there are other grown ups here, and some of them are in a lot of pain," he reminds her.

"We should've brought flowers for everybody."

"How many do you have, sweetheart?" he asks, watching the floor number tick upward.

"I have, um." She pulls her hand back from his neck, four rumpled daisies choked in her fingers. "No, I can't give them to everyone else, I only have enough for mommy."

Eddie's noticed a very high ratio of 'mommy' when compared to Roan's usual mix these last few days. If anyone asks who her mom is she says it's you enthusiastically, but if she's talking to you face to face she'll call you whatever she feels like. Mom tends to come out more when she's tired, when she's feeling adored, or when she's upset, but that isn't to say she won't call you mom at random moments. Why is the window glass all blurry, mom? I didn't 'member to feed Lucky, mommy, you have to get the fish food. Mom, I need more soda.

Roan was too old when you met to mistake you for her mother. You're growing into the title. Roan's growing into using it.

"That's okay. You keep them all for mom," he whispers.

"We won't show anyone so they don't feel left out," she whispers back.

"Good plan."

When Wayne brought Roan by the first night, she was just happy to see you both. Unlike when Eddie burned his arm, you weren't alert enough to be in any pain, and so she didn't have to be scared of that. Wayne kept his cool when he picked her up, mitigating most of the panic she probably would've felt had Eddie been there. She wasn't happy to see you unwell, but she wasn't scared. She hasn't cried.

Eddie knows from experience that a lack of tears now doesn't mean they aren't coming.

You're sitting up in bed, showered, in a fresh pair of pyjamas with a cup of coffee held between two strong hands. You have a magazine on your knee. Even your hair looks nice. It's a goddamn miracle in Eddie's eyes —he nearly drops Roan.

"My Munsons!" you say happily, putting your coffee on the tray table wheeled over your bed. "What the heck, you told me you'd be here at nine and it's nine oh seven. I thought we loved each other?"

Oh thank fucking God, Eddie thinks. You're okay. You sound yourself again, no pain, no hazy confusion.

"You're conjoined," you say, smiling.

Eddie scrambles to unzip his jacket. Roan throws herself out of his arms and on to the end of your bed. You push your tray table and coffee sloshes everywhere in your rush to make room for her.

"Good morning," she says, slamming into you. Eddie winces at her force, and Roan must recognise her brutality, saying, "Sorry, I hugged you hard."

"That's okay, I like hard hugs," you say, wrapping your arms around her.

Eddie gets his knee on the mattress to grab you both in his own hug. Tears burn in his eyes. He doesn't have the wherewithal to blink them back, dropping his lips to your forehead. "I was so worried," he says, unable to hide how high and fraught his voice is.

"Eddie," you murmur softly. "My love, it's okay. I'm just fine, you didn't have to worry about me."

"But I did, you were–" He clears his throat. "I love you."

"I love you too," you say, your hand crawling up his front. You curve your palm around his neck. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

Eddie laughs and sniffs, sitting back on your bed to wipe his eyes with his wrist. His hands are shaking. "It's okay, it's alright. I don't want you sorry for nothing. We just wanted you to get better. Isn't that right, Ro?"

Roan picks her head up from your neck, tears pumping down her face.

Eddie's heart hurts seeing it, even if he was expecting it. You, on the other hand, hadn't had that foresight. You look at her like she's split you clean in two.

"Princess, what's the matter?" you implore, cuddling her back into your chest. "I know it's really scary being here, lovely girl, I know. It's okay."

Roan doesn't explain herself, just sobs little sobs into your shirt, clutching you as though she's worried you'll push her away.

Eddie puts his hand on her back.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, sounding weak yourself.

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding? It was my fault," Eddie says.

"What?"

"I made you late, you didn't eat breakfast–"

"Eddie–"

"Don't fucking say sorry–"

"Eddie," you say again, rubbing Roan's back. You give him a soft look.

"Sorry," he says. He takes a big breath, victim of an overflow of emotion.

Eddie slides further up the bed to get a better hold on Roan where she's being hugged. "I'm very sorry for cussing, baby. How are you feeling, huh? Happy to see mommy with both arms, is that it?"

"So happy," she sobs, pushing her lips closer to your ear and her flowers into your neck. "I brought you flowers to help you get better but you're better already."

Eddie doesn't know what to do besides pat her back and cling to you.

After a big healthy cry fest, you lay back in your pillows with Roan propped against your front, speaking at a much more acceptable volume considering your three neighbours in the room. You rub her back with one hand and feed her hard pretzels with the other, passing your pinky finger over her cheeks as a makeshift handkerchief to collect the last of her tears. Her daisies wilt in a cup of fruitless water on the nightstand.

"Is that what all the fuss was about? You worried daddy wasn't gonna enable your snack addiction?" you ask fondly,

"Dad gives me lots of snacks. We had Benny's two times yesterday and then we had ice cream with every topping for after dinner."

"I'm glad he's been spoiling you," you say.

"Too much Benny's, wasn't it?" Eddie prompts, meeting your eyes with a bemused grin, his head twitching with a headache that doesn't fit the mood. "She said to me before breakfast she didn't want any today. We had waffles in the waffle maker and blueberries and strawberries."

"With squirty cream," Roan says, opening her mouth wide for another pretzel.

You indulge her and feed her.

"You didn't enjoy burgers for lunch and dinner?" you ask.

"We had Reuben sandwiches and loaded fries for dinner, it wasn't as torturous as it sounds."

"It sounds delicious," you say, kissing Roan's pale forehead. "I wish I'd been there to steal all the bacon bits off of your fries. Now I'm better, maybe we can go and have them again, give me a fighting chance."

"No!" Roan says with a laugh.

"No? So selfish, Ro, you know I want whatever you're eating." You kiss her crown and adjust your arms around her.

"Now you're better, I think we should have the, um, the special curry dad makes with rice and peas."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks. "Mom's better so dad can go back to his life of serfdom. That's awesome."

In actuality, Eddie would make you complicated, exhausting meals multiple times a day for the rest of your life if it meant you didn't end up here again. He has a strict breakfast plan forming in his mind as you speak.

"They said they were gonna check me one last time and if I'm okay I get to go home. Soon as the doctor can come and see me and make sure I look okay," you say, planing a pretzel past her mouth and into your own with a self satisfied smile.

"You look beautiful," Eddie says, squeezing your knee.

"Dad! I was going to say that!" Roan stands up from your lap and pushes him. "You steal everything!"

"I do not!

"You do! You stole my strawberry at breakfast and you took my soda straw last night!"

"I did do both of those things but that doesn't mean I steal everything," Eddie says, looking up into her face happily.

She has fire behind her eyes, even though her lashes are still wet and clumped together from her earlier tears. Roan harrumphs at him. "You do. You stole one of my gingersnap cookies–"

"Baby, those were mine. Uncle Wayne got them for me 'cos they're my favourites and I was upset," he says, laughing.

"Well. Why did you let me have them?"

Eddie finds her hand to roll her fingers. "Because I'm good at sharing, something you never learned how to do."

"Don't listen, bubby," you say, tipping pretzels into your mouth. "You're a good sharer."

In the end, the doctor comes by and tells you to stay until the shift changes for a last set of observations. Eddie and Roan stay just past visiting hours to wait with you, Roan now firmly wedged in his lap, you with his hoodie over your shoulders. In all the chaos, he didn't remember to bring your jacket either.

"This is why we're getting married," you say.

"Why, so someone remembers to put jackets on you both?" he asks ruefully, Roan in his lap, your bag packed and ready to go at your feet.

"No…" You tip your head toward your shoulder a touch. "Because you've done such a good job looking after me, sweetheart. You really have. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I think the hospital did all the looking after," he says.

He tries uselessly to shove down that awful feeling again. The memory of you prone in bed with your IV and your heart monitor beeping. It felt like it was beating behind his eyes.

It's easier to forget now you're feeling almost one hundred percent again. Your hand at his elbow, in your nice white and blue pyjamas, content to be going home again.

"That's not true… I can't imagine how tired you are right now. If it were you in here, for three days…"

"Only two," he says. "Today doesn't count."

"It absolutely counts."

You pout for a kiss that Eddie eagerly gives you. He kisses you, your cheek, your ear, a line of gratitude because he doesn't care how tired he is or how hard this was. You're better. You can rest at home.

"I'd be a mess. Don't feel bad about the jackets or start thinking you did a bad job," you say, combing your fingers through his hair. You scoot back to look him in the eye, a ridiculous amount of fondness lining your own, your pinched brows. "You did awesome. A-plus for everything."

"It's not over," he says, stroking Roan's arm where she squirms in his lap, bored. "You're on bed rest, I don't care what the doctor says. And you're taking time off work. Promise me."

"Promise," you say, holding your hands up.

"Can I have the time off too from school?" Roan asks.

Her big doe eyes and her tiny frown would convince him if he hadn't already thought about it.

He squeezes her chubby cheeks in his palms. "You need a few days to feel better," he agrees.

"Really?" she asks with a gasp.

"Yeah, really. You've been really, really brave." He kneads her cheeks gently. "You're such a good girl. You're my brave girl."

"Super brave," you agree, cheek on Eddie's shoulder.

Roan sits back with a proud shrug, arms wrapping around her stomach. "I was a bit brave."

Eddie chucks her under the chin with his knuckle. You get discharged a little while later, Roan and Eddie like a small parade pushing your wheelchair. You hate the attention, complaining to the nurse lightly that you can walk to the car without falling. No one wants to hear it.

"You're legally required to take it easy for a few days," Eddie says. "You promised me."

You slump back in the chair. "Fine. Ro, come and sit in my lap, at least? This hospital is a maze, I need company while they find our way out."

Roan loves that idea. She sits on your knees, back to your chest, your hands around her waist like a seatbelt.

"Can I push her the rest of the way? I'm sure you're busy," Eddie says to the nurse. He says it so nicely, so politely, that despite his tattoos and his long hair, she doesn't put him in the 'hooligan' box as people tend to do. She hands you over.

Eddie waits for her to round the corner before ducking down, your backpack in the crook of his elbow, hands tightening around the wheelchair handles.

"Girls. You better hold on tight. I'm sick of this place and we're leaving right now."

"Don't you dare."

"All arms in the ride?" he asks, charging up his push. He takes a preparatory step back. "On three. One, two–"

"Three!" Roan shouts.

Eddie races you down the hallway, your nervous laughter so loud it bounces off of every wall on the way out.

967 notes · View notes

lieutnt · 11 months

Note

trans!soap going on a mission with the reader who keeps praising him (good boy, nice work, well done, etc) and he gets so needy that he ends up begging to be fucked afterwards? 👀

radio waves

Trans!John “Soap” MacTavish x Male Reader Warnings: NSFW, I didn’t intend for this to get this long, mentions of reader & Soap killing people, teasing, praise kink, brief fingering, fucking. Note: I did try and proofread this but I’m tired and wanted to get this out, so let me know if anything doesn’t make sense!

It’s a dangerous game sending you and Soap out on missions alone together - you’re efficient, reliable, a rock solid team, if what you spout to one another over the comm channel is ignored.

After a mission where Gaz accompanied the two of you he swore never again, stating it was like “third wheeling on the world’s most fucked up date.” Price turns a blind eye to it, you got results and always returned with only minor injuries, that was enough justification to keep sending you out together.

This time it was a simple clear and sweep, you were perched up high on overwatch, firmly tucked behind your sniper scope, taking care of any stragglers and making sure no one snuck up behind Soap as he moved from building to building, taking out enemy combatants as he came across them.

He lived up to his call sign, clearing each building easily, putting on a masterclass of all his abilities. You watched as he stepped out of a door, pausing to lift his hand to his radio, and his voice soon filtered through. “All clear, moving to the next one.”

You clicked yours on in time for Soap to hear your acknowledging hum, “Nice work Johnny.” Your praise did something to him, a faint shiver rattling down his spine. He concealed it well, body barely shifting on its spot as he felt arousal stirring in the pit of his gut.

He murmured a quick “Thanks,” before he was off again, this time crossing the run down street to another building, until your voice broke through the temporary silence.

“Two coming up ahead of you Soap. I’ll take left, you take right.” You watched as he ducked behind some nearby cover, radio clicking to life once he was settled.

“Copy.” It was quick, quiet, all the confirmation you needed.

“On my count. 3… 2… 1… now.” With a simple pull of the trigger you watched as both bodies dropped simultaneously, waiting for a few seconds to make sure nobody heard. When only silence remained you spoke again, “Good boy.”

Soap’s face begins to heat up, a warmth spreading throughout his entire body at your words, and he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He doesn’t respond this time, waiting for you to clear him to move again.

He ducks into another building, the last one, and just as effectively as the previous ones he’s stepping out a few minutes later, speaking into his radio. “All clear, heading back to the hideout.” Adrenaline and arousal mixed to create a fucked up cocktail in his gut, and Soap was soaked between his thighs.

“Copy. Nice work Soap, heading back as well. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He struggled to contain the whine in the back of his throat, a few minutes was too long, his feet carrying him faster than needed back to relative safety.

He arrived first, calling for exfil before placing his weapons down as he impatiently waited for you. He paced, too amped up to sit still, his mind wandering at your praise.

His fingers unconsciously drifted down his chest and down his pants, breathy moans slipping from his mouth as he teased his folds, already too far to resist the temptation to not go any further. He pushed two fingers inside, cunt slick enough to easily accept them. His hips bucked as he curled them, desperately seeking friction, but they weren’t enough, he still felt empty, needed your voice purring honeyed words in his ears.

Just as he was contemplating slipping a third one inside your voice came through on his nearby radio. “Approaching now Johnny.”

He withdrew his fingers, hastily wiping them on his shirt, and you’d barely shut the door before Soap was on you, crowding you against it. “You bastard, you were doing it on purpose weren’t you?”

You blinked at him, confusion settling in your eyes. “Doing what?”

“Everything you were saying, trying to get under my skin.” His breathing had picked up, his face flush, and he was standing so close you could feel him pressing against your bulky tac vest.

Reality hit you, and Soap exhaled as you leaned your sniper up against the wall and raised your hand to cup his cheek, Soap already nuzzling into the contact. “Is that it? A few words got you all worked up?”

He nods, peering at you with blue eyes almost swallowed by his blown pupils. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How far out is exfil?” You questioned, the rational part of your brain fighting against your desire to turn him around and bend him over.

It took Soap a few moments to think, brain struggling to come up with a response other than ‘it doesn’t matter.’ “We have to leave in 30 minutes.”

You tsked, thumb swiping across his bottom lip and pulling it down. “I don’t think that’s enough time baby.” With how worked up he was you doubted Soap would be happy with just once or twice, always wanting more when he gets this desperate, and if you showed up to exfil late, with a Soap who could barely stand, you doubt Price would be happy with either of you.

He shakes his head, eyes glossy and wide, pleading. “I can’t wait, I need you to fuck me.” He takes your hand by the wrist, pulling it down until it’s in his pants and you’re cupping his cunt through his boxers, able to feel the large damp spot that’s formed. His breathy sigh makes your cock twitch, and you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

Bastard has you wrapped around his finger.

He moans when you press your fingers against his clothed pussy, forehead falling to rest against you. “You that desperate? Need me to fuck you?”

Soap nods this time, mouth parting in a gasp when you move your hand under the final layer of his boxers, fingers ghosting against his puffy clit as they travel down until you sink two inside. “So wet for me already Johnny.”

He whines against you, hips trying to roll with your movements as you slowly pull your fingers out, just to push them back in at the same pace. “Please, please, need your cock.”

You’re already short on time, that deadline gradually creeping up on you, so in one final motion you make a show of withdrawing your fingers and placing them in your mouth, suckling his arousal off them only to hear Soap swallowing heavily, his hands tightening in their grip on your arms. Once they’re sufficiently clean you pop them out of your mouth and place your hands on Soap’s hips, walking him backwards to the nearest flat surface.

Spinning him around you push at his back until his top half is lying flat, wasting little time in pulling his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. You groan at what you see, his pussy and inner thighs shining, and Soap whimpers when you use your thumb to spread him open, watching as his hole clenches around nothing.

His breath hitches when he hears the clanking of your belt unbuckling, and you take the time to spit on your hand and give your hard cock a few pumps, spreading the makeshift lube over your shaft. With one hand on the small of his back you hold Soap in place, stopping his attempts to slam back against you as soon as he feels your cock against his folds.

Gradually you push forward, groaning in sync with each other as his cunt parts for your cock, gummy walls sucking you in. Inch by inch you push inside, all movement coming to a stop when you bottom out, Soap’s tight heat pulsing around you as he starts to fight against your hold, impatience resurfacing. “Please move,” he begs, body moving in search of any friction.

One hand smooths through his mohawk, attempting to steady him. “I will baby, just be patient.” Slowly you pull your hips back, withdrawing until just your head is inside and then pushing forward, Soap keening as his pussy stretches around you. “That’s it, good boy.”

He moans, back arching as he falls onto his forearms, attempting to support himself. You lean over him as best you can in your bulky gear, pressing yourself into his back so you can kiss at his neck, purring praises into his ear. “Always feel so good around me Johnny, shit.” You start to pick up your pace once he’s adjusted, the room filling with the sounds of wet smacking as your skin connects with his.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chants, pussy clenching around you at feeling so full, feeling you press deep inside with each thrust. Soap lets out a wail of pleasure as you adjust your stance, pushing yourself up slightly to plant your hands either side of his head, hips snapping into his roughly, the new angle letting you fuck into him harsher, deeper.

“Christ Johnny, got me feeling close already.” Your orgasm was approaching faster than usual, maybe praising Soap had more of an effect on you than you thought.

He vigorously nods, words tumbling out quick, stuttered. “M-me too, clo… close.” The fire in his belly is fully ablaze, threatening to explode any second, and when you reach around with one hand, rubbing tight circles on his clit, his legs almost give out underneath him.

“Doin’ so good for me Johnny, always so good, so perfect.” You mindlessly babble, taking full advantage of the effects your words have on him.

Soap cums with a hoarse cry, your cock bullying the bundle of nerves inside enough to tip him over the edge. A burst of slick gushes out around your cock, splashing against your thighs as his body trembles, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. The rhythmic tensing of his cunt is almost enough to pull you over the edge as well, your thrusts growing sloppy and frantic as you chase your high. You have just enough awareness to remind yourself to not cum inside.

Soap becomes painfully aware of how empty he feels as you hastily pull out, furiously pumping your cock with your hand until you’re cresting the edge, cumming over his lower back and painting his skin with ropes of white. He whines in place, still attempting to rock back against you as your cock twitches, milking yourself dry above him. “Fuck, fuck, I’ll cum in you next time, I promise,” you groan, tugging yourself into near overstimulation as you empty your balls.

He turns his head, eyes blown and filled with confusion. As the waves of pleasure wash away you see him looking at you for an explanation - Soap prefers it when you cum inside, you do too, but with little time left until exfil and a lengthy flight ahead of you, you’d rather face his complaints now then when you’re stuck on a plane and he can feel your cum slowly trickling out between his legs, unable to do anything about it.

You explain as such to him, and despite Soap knowing you’re right he still finds himself disappointed, remaining in place as you tuck yourself back in and clean away the cum with a wipe you had tucked away, it wasn’t its intended purpose but it’ll do. Pulling down his shirt Soap leans back up, groaning in discomfort as his body feels the strain of being stuck in one position for so long. He redresses as well, straightening his clothes out and making himself look as if he hasn’t just been fucked during a mission.

The high of adrenaline and his orgasm fizzles away, and you find yourself drifting towards him. He turns to face you, eyes soft and you lean in, capturing his lips in a much gentler kiss, this one slow, calm, one filled with the unsaid ‘I’m glad you’re ok.’

You’d rather do anything else than pull away, but with those 30 minutes almost up you do, breaking the kiss and trying your best to ignore the whine of discontent Soap emits. Lightly chuckling, you press one more kiss against his lips, “We can continue when we get back to base.”

Soap sighs, a teasing smile appearing across his mouth. “I’ll hold you to that.”

#john soap mactavish #trans!john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x male reader #call of duty #male reader #top reader #top male reader #elijahs oneshots #lieutnts writings

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incognit0slut · 11 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (9)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: A shocking call has Spencer questioning her involvement in the case. wc: 3.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

MASTERLIST

SPENCER COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT AT PEACE. Although protecting people and making them safe gave him a certain comfort, the pressure of being involved in harrowing cases took a toll on him more than he expected. But amid the ongoing investigation, he felt rather...calm.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly the reason why, between his responsibilities and obligations, he found himself embraced by this unexpected peace. It certainly had to do with the woman still nestled in his bed as he now stood in his kitchen, contemplating whether she preferred drinking coffee or perhaps something sweeter to start her day.

He couldn't believe it. He never imagined himself debating on another person's choice of beverage. Yet here he was, making a new pot of fresh coffee and setting out another mug to prepare a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate because its rich sweetness reminded him of her. If he didn't know which one she preferred between the two, he was going to make both.

He let out a sigh. He was a fool, wasn't he? Spencer was never one to indulge himself in romance. It wasn't easy for him to get swept away by any potential relationships. Falling in love again seemed like an illusion for him, something so far out of his reach. It seemed impossible to find someone he genuinely liked after losing the only person he ever considered spending the rest of his life with.

But look at him now, falling for somebody he met less than two weeks ago. For a smart person with an IQ of 187, he certainly was a fool.

Although having to know her for a mere fraction of time, Spencer had never fathomed that he could harbor such feelings. Having her soft body pressed against his side let him understand how much her presence stirred his heart.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. The night wasn't simply spent with the warm feeling of her bare skin, but it was also filled with her laughter. Their late-night conversations delved into the realms of dreams and vulnerabilities, effortlessly bridging the gap between two strangers. With each passing conversation, he discovered the captivating intricacies of her mind which he wanted to understand better.

He liked her. He really did.

Maybe after all this ordeal, after he could disclose this current case, he could ask her out on a proper date. When there was no more boundary between them, when he wasn't an authority and she wasn't someone linked to a case, he would finally enjoy her company without feeling guilty.

He was pouring the fresh pot of coffee into a mug when his phone suddenly rang. He let out a groan, knowing what was waiting for him as he noticed Garcia's name plastered on the screen.

"Hey, Garcia," he greeted, slipping his phone between his face and his shoulder. "New update?"

"Reid."

He froze, noticing the strain in her voice. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself, pressing his phone against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Uh—no." He frowned at her question. "Why?"

"You might want to sit down."

He didn't, of course. But his mind was already buzzing with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Reid," she whispered, her voice dropping low as if trying to keep quiet. "You're the first person I called which means nobody else knows about this...yet."

"Garcia," he probed, suddenly feeling anxious. "What is it?"

There was a shuffling at the end of the line before her voice filled his ear again.

"Okay, so I crossed references that could help me find any articles Jamison Lynch wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, and it turns out, there are none. Nothing. Nada." There was an unsettling pause before she continued, "Although there is one article mentioning Mr. Marshall by a journalist, who as of now, is an active employee at the publishing firm Jamison worked at. Guess who it is?"

He clutched the phone tighter as a tumultuous mix of emotions churned in his gut. In that moment, time seemed to stretch, waiting for his response. He paused, his mind spiraling into a web of confusion and disbelief as he pieced together the verity of this call.

"I'm guessing by your silence you already know why I wanted to call you first."

He did. He knew why it was important for Garcia to be informing him before anyone else. His eyes then glanced towards his bedroom door. Gone was the peaceful bliss he had felt, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Confusion suddenly swirled within him, clouding his thoughts and casting shadows upon the woman who still lay peacefully on the other side of the wall.

The warmth he relished this morning was now replaced by a chill of uncertainty that seeped into his veins.

"What—" He suddenly cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so foreign to him. He took a deep breath. "What else did you find?"

"I did more sleuthing and found Y/n's name as one of the people who filed a complaint against Jamison—which meant nothing, really, since he was known as a complete douchebag." Garcia then stopped. "May he rest in peace."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, as it turns out, Jamison Lynch wasn't the first person Y/n filed a complaint for. There was also a complaint against Mr. Marshall."

"I thought Kevin Marshall was clean?"

"He was until I hacked into his company's database system and found this single complaint sent by her, which by the looks of it, seemed to be buried under a lot of firewalls." The clicking sound of a keyboard played in the background. "It was as if the company he worked for, or even Mr. Marshall himself, tried to hide it."

His burrows furrowed. "What was the complaint for?"

"Sexual Harassment."

His heart pounded in his chest, a fiery rage suddenly coursing through his body. The revelation he had just uncovered struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him torn between seething anger and a torrent of conflicting emotions. The person he came to like had once suffered the unimaginable—a vile act of assault perpetrated by the man who now lay lifeless, a victim of murder.

Yet beneath the simmering rage, doubt festered like a poisonous seed. He was suddenly questioning the nature of her involvement. Not only did she know one of the victims, but she was also acquainted with both of them. His thoughts churned, torn between the desire to dismiss this uncertainty and the nagging voice of suspicion that echoed in the depths of his mind.

"Reid," Garcia called out when she was met with silence. "I don't what this means. I don't understand how or why she's linked between these two victims but please, please, don't do anything stupid."

His eyes drew back to his bedroom. Even when he was stuck between the depths of his emotions, the rational part of his brain managed to turn its gear. "Garcia, I need you to find out whether she knew the third victim."

"You mean the suicidal case that doesn't seem like suicide?"

"Harvey Webb," he confirmed, the name printed in his brain.

"Alright, I will. Oh—and Reid?" He hummed a reply. "Don't act on impulse. Please don't go concluding stuff on your own when you're obviously involved with her."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I'm not involved with her."

"You're telling me you asked for her address and you didn't do anything about it?" When he didn't respond, she clicked her tongue. "Exactly. Now listen, I need to go and tell the others this, so come by the office and we'll deal with it together, okay?"

He glanced towards the cup of coffee now sitting cold by the counter. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, boy genius."

As the phone call ended, Spencer found himself adrift in a sea of swirling emotions. This information was a step further into the investigation now that he found a link between the victims. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a cloud of doubt descended upon his thoughts.

The deeper he delved into the complexities of the situation, the more elusive the truth became. Was it really possible she had anything to do with the murder? Could the trauma she had endured have pushed her to take matters into her own hands?

The questions lingered like a toxic fog, polluting his mind.

"Good morning."

Spencer looked up to see Y/n padding across the room wearing nothing but his shirt. The way the material draped over her form accentuated her curves, holding an allure that was impossible to ignore. His eyes traced the lines of her body, from the tousled strands of her hair to the subtle curve of her hip. It was an intimate sight that would have once mesmerized him completely.

But his mind was too clouded with his doubt.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt—" She stopped when her eyes fell on him. "What's wrong? Is it the shirt?" She looked down at herself. "Should I change out of it?"

As quickly as the enchantment had taken hold, the weight of his doubts resurfaced. At that moment, the air crackled with unspoken words, an invisible barrier separating them. Spencer's heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

How could the woman he had fallen for potentially be connected to a heinous crime? It seemed inconceivable, yet the voice at the back of his head urged him to question his doubt.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Kevin Marshall?"

The unexpected question startled her, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "What?"

"When I questioned you that day, why didn't you mention that you knew him?"

She studied him, wondering where this was suddenly coming from. "I didn't think it was important," she finally responded. "And technically, I didn't know him personally. I interviewed him once for work."

"What happened that day?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you interviewed him, what happened?"

She felt his gaze upon her, intense and penetrating, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as though he had glimpsed into the depths of her soul, unraveling something not many people were aware of.

"You know." It was more of a statement rather than a question. She took another step back. "Nobody else knows except a few of my closest friends but—" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how you know. I don't even think that company kept the files, they practically ignored my complaint."

"They kept it," he mused.

"And how do you know this?"

"The technical analyst in our team managed to find your files hidden."

"Technical analyst—why were you even searching for it?" She crossed her arms across her chest, focusing her attention on him. "Answer me. Why was your technical analyst searching for my complaint?"

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Because you're currently the only person linked between the two cases we're working on."

She frowned. "You mean the cases you think are done by the same killer? The death between my late boss and Kevin Marshall?"

"Yes. But this is only procedure, we do an investigation on any leads that we find."

"Investigation?" Then it dawned on her. It fucking dawned on her. Offense suddenly surged through her while his words, accusing and laced with suspicion, struck her with a sense of betrayal. "You think I have to do something with the murders."

The atmosphere, once a sanctuary of shared affection, now felt suffocating, closing in around her as the weight of his accusations settled heavily on her shoulders. His silence spoke louder than words.

"Unbelievable." Her eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defensive. She turned away and stalked back to his room. "Unbelievable."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," she hissed, noticing him trailing behind her. "Did you expect me to stay here and let you interrogate me like I'm some kind of criminal?"

His face twisted in frustration. "I just want to know what happened the day you interviewed Kevin Marshall."

"Why? So you can accuse me even further?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You’re questioning me. You want to know whether I have some kind of vendetta against him."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything."

"But you are." Without any warning, she gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're practically cornering me with all the questioning, especially with that look on your face."

He quickly looked away and she stopped herself from scoffing at the absurdity of it. She was about to divulge how his sudden modesty was unnecessary when he spoke, "I wouldn't have to constantly ask you if you had answered me sooner."

This time she did scoff, grabbing onto her own pair of clothes. "You caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?"

"Answer the question and not avoid it like what you're doing now."

"You think I'm avoiding the question on purpose?"

He drew his eyes back to her. "A study shows that body language plays a crucial role in interpersonal communication, and based on its verbal indicator, an attempt to avoid answering the question is notable by your vague response."

"And you're analyzing me based on that?"

"It's my job to analyze anyone involved in the case.”

"Anyone involved?" She screeched, dumbfounded by his judgment of her. "I trusted you last night, I opened up to you, and now you're throwing these baseless accusations at me?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to make some sense of where you're connected in all of this."

"You don't even know how I'm involved!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out!"

The air crackled with tension, heavy with the echoes of their heated words. The silence that followed was almost deafening, a palpable strain that hung in the air like a fragile thread. The once intimate space now felt hollow, as if drained of its energy by the intensity of their emotions.

Breathless and emotionally drained, they stared at each other, their eyes mirroring a mix of regret, hurt, and lingering anger. But as the echoes of their heated argument faded, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her anger now deserted her, leaving her drained.

"You know what was on my mind this morning?" She suddenly spoke. "I woke up thinking I was happy to run into you again. It didn't take long for me to understand that, albeit the circumstances, I actually came to like you."

As the words spilled from her trembling lips, her voice quivered with vulnerability. But then a shadow of doubt danced in her eyes. A new wave of anger surfaced, overpowering the fragility of her confession.

"But the person I like is not this version of you. Who I like is Spencer Reid, not Doctor Reid."

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, right now, you're not the same guy I spent the night with. You're scrutinizing me, you're—what is it that you do again? Ah, yes, a profiler." She pointed a finger at him. "You're trying to profile me, you're trying to read my mind in my most vulnerable state because if you haven't noticed, Spencer, I'm standing here half naked while you're pestering me with your questions."

He quickly glanced away, noticing the truth in her words. He had let his anger and suspicion cloud his judgment of her, something Garcia had warned him not to do. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll go wait outside."

"Don't bother, I'm almost done."

But he was already out of her vision, and when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, she let out a shaking breath.

She stood there, her heart aching with a mix of disappointment and betrayal. His accusations had cut deep, searing through the bliss they had nurtured the past night. The warmth that once enveloped them had been replaced by a cold emptiness, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Her eyes drifted to the unmade bed before her. The memory of the night lingered in her mind like a bittersweet melody, playing on the strings of her heart. The tender moments they had shared, the warmth that had enveloped them seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the disappointment and anger that colored her mind.

She had hoped for a peaceful morning, a continuation of the intimacy they had shared under the cover of darkness. Instead, she found herself faced with the harsh truth of their current reality, the dissonance of their unspoken tensions. His doubt had tarnished the tender memories, leaving a bitter taste on her lips.

With a heavy sigh, she let the memories of last night linger for a moment longer before gathering her strength. She walked out of the room once she was fully clothed to find him standing by his couch, his body turning at the sound of her footsteps.

"Y/n."

“Thanks for listening to me last night."

"Y/n."

"Thank you for letting me stay too."

"Y/n."

"Stop."

Her hands clenched into fists, a physical manifestation of the conflicting emotions raging within her. He watched her, and as the silence stretched between them, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a recognition of the hurt he had inflicted. Perhaps he had acted out of fear, allowing the shadows of the investigation to cast doubt on her. But the betrayal still lingered too deeply.

"You know what frustrates me?" She wondered. His silence was a sign for her to continue. "You're questioning me not because you genuinely want to know, you're doing it out of your obligation because you think it's your job to do so."

She held out a hand when he took a step closer.

"And it's fine," she went on. "It is your job. You're the federal agent here and I'm merely someone whose name is linked to the case."

"Y/n, I didn't mean to—"

"With that being said, we should keep our relationship strictly that way."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable an arrow piercing his heart. He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on her as if searching for a flicker of hesitation, a glimmer of doubt. But her resolve was unwavering. With a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak once more, her voice steady and resolute.

“If you really want to know what happened, call me into your office, I'll answer your questions then.”

Her expression dulled as she held his gaze, and with one last jaded look etched in her somber eyes, she finally turned around without sparing another glance, excusing herself from his apartment.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

Spencer stood there, surrounded by an oppressive silence that echoed the void she had left behind. Time seemed to stand still as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. The truth of the situation settled upon his shoulders, the reality that their paths had diverged and the bliss they had once shared had transformed into something unrecognizable.

Just as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him entirely, his phone suddenly pinged with a new alert. Startled, he reached for it, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The digital glow illuminated his face, casting a pale light upon his features as he read the message.

PENELOPE: THEY'RE CALLING HER IN. SHE KNEW THE THIRD VICTIM.

Spencer stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire being. He dialed Garcia’s number only to be rejected as soon as the first ring echoed in his ear.

PENELOPE: CAN'T TALK. HOTCH IS BESIDE ME.

His heart raced, his breath quickened, and a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear surged through his veins. Spencer quickly walked over towards his window and saw a glimpse of Y/n climbing into a cab, her phone pressed against her ear. He ran a hand through his curls in frustration as his phone alerted a new message.

PENELOPE: GET YOUR ASS HERE, REID.

SPENCER: I'm on my way.

Confusion clouded him, the lines between truth and lies blurring in his head. And beneath it all, fear lurked, whispering doubts about his judgment.

A heaviness settled upon his chest, constricting his breath and swarming his thoughts. The calm that had graced his waking moments seemed like a distant memory now—his peace only lasted briefly.

>> NEXT PART

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the-offside-rule · 6 months

Text

Liam Lawson (Alpha Tauri) - Streaming Buddy

Requested: yes

Warnings: none

Liam sat laughing along with his chat as he read through some of the messages. He stretched and let out a tired groan before sitting down and wanting to do something else. "Ah guys I'm absolutely shattered. I'm so bored. What should we do?" He waited a few seconds for people to send in some answers to his question which he quickly skimmed through it. "Okay, warzone again, we've already played. Marbles, not the same without Marcel, come on guys let's get creative here." He read through them all. They were very plain, a bit boring. He was seriously contemplating finishing the stream up when he spotted one sgmuggestion that he liked. "Simulator with Y/n. I like that idea." he chuckled. The chat went ballistic, they wanted that too. They rarely ever saw Y/n on streams so of course they wanted it.

Liam took out his phone and began texting Y/n who was sitting in the living room, watching some Netflix. She needed a break from a very stressful year at university so having some time to relax and not worry about anything was a nice change. Her phone lit up on the table, meaning someone had just messaged her. She stretched and reached for it, almost falling off in the process and had a look at who it was. She smiled as she saw Liam's name pop up. She opened her phone and read through his message, confusing her a bit. He probably just wanted her to order some food.

"You wanted me?" Y/n whispered to him. "Sit down." He said, scotting over a bit in his chair. "We won't both fit there Liam." Liam grinned. "Feel free to sit on my lap then." Y/n felt her cheeks burning red but thankfully it was hard to notice because of his coloured lights. She slowly sat down and looked toward the camera almost as if she was silently saying this guy. Liam wrapped his arms around her and held her closer. "So, why am I here?" she asked. "Well, somkeone suggested that you try out the simulator." Liam said. Y/n closed her eyes and slid down a bit. "No." She whined, making Liam laugh at her reaction. "I can't drive to save my life." Y/n was already starting to make up excuses. "Nah, you'll be fine come on." Y/n stayed on his lap. "Babe-"

"You can't get up if I don't get up first."

Liam let out a sigh. "Really?" he asked. Y/n nodded her head and grinned before Liam shot her a cheeky smile and picked her up. "Hey!" she squealed as he carried her to the simulator. "Just do one lap come on." Liam said putting her down and then fixing the camera on her. "Oh fine." She said giving in. She began racing around, making a complete mess of everything. She was breaking too early, going onto the throttle too late, Liam felt the need to go and show her how to do everything. "No, you're doing it wrong, you have to change the gears when all the lights on the steering wheel go on." Liam started explaining bit by bit to her as she drove agonisingly slow around the track. "Right, pick up the pace. Come on." Liam said. Y/n stepped on the pedals the pick up the pace and she was doing just fine until her tyre touched the grass and moved her line completely. In an attempt to save the car, she corrected herself but ended up spinning and crashing into one of the barriers. Y/n's eyes went wide as she took her hands off the steering wheel slowly.

"What just broke?" he asked as Y/n crashes. She kept quiet for a while until she mumbled a little "everything." Liam shook his head and tutted as if she was a child. "How did you spin on a straight?" he asked in disbelief. "Look right, I don't know what you expected-" Y/n said in between laughs. "To finish at least one lap maybe." Liam replied sarcastically. Y/n groaned and slid down the chair. "It's fine, you just don't know how to do it." Liam laughed. "Right, teach me then." Y/n said. Liam nodded his head and moved her again before he lifted her up and sat down, placing her back on his lap. "Right, watch carefully then." Y/n's smile softened before she lay back. "So yeah, you have to be careful into turn one, it's a hairpin pretty much. As for the rest-" He paused and looked at her face in the stream. She wasn't even focusing on the simulator. "Babe, you listening?" he asked. Y/n lifted her head back until she saw him. "No." She replied sweetly. Liam arched an eyebrow and continued on driving. "Why? Why aren't you looking at the screen?"

"I'm looking at something way better right now." Liam tried to contain his grin when she said that but failed miserably. "That was so cheesy." He mumbled. "Well I can't help it I love you, you little- oop, you crashed." She said pointing at the screen. "Oi, that was your fault."

"You shouldn't have been distracted." Liam grinned before kissing her hair. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just race huh?" Y/n laughed a bit before relaxing and watching Liam go around the track. "I love you too." He whispered, making her smile. "Yeah, yeah. Let's focus on the Racing now eh?"

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson x y/n #liam lawson imagine #liam lawson

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yournecessaryevil · 4 months

Text

Imagine...

...Chris and Ricky trying to get you to finally fall asleep after a long day while on tour...

• fluff; language; very light NSFW (if you squint)

"But I don't want to go to bed yet!"

You let out a quiet huff, clutching the pillow tighter against your chest as you cast a pleading look at the two men in front of you. Both gave you a raised eyebrow, neither one of them seeming to be impressed by your whining.

"Babygirl, you look so fucking tired-" Ricky began. "Yeah, you need sleep," Chris cut in, nodding in agreement. You stuck out your bottom lip in a slight pout as you continued to give them your best pleading look.

"Do I have to?" you asked, earning an immediate synchronized response of "Yes!" from both of the guys.

Ricky reached up to adjust his beanie before shaking his head at you, a smile playing at his lips. "It's been a long day for all of us, but especially you," he pointed out.

Chris grinned, the piercings in his bottom lip briefly catching the light from the dim interior of the bus. "Yeah, you're not used to the tour life like we are," he teased you.

This earned an eyeroll from his bandmate, who lightly elbowed him in the side. "It's been years, dude, and I'm still not used to it," he retorted, though his former smile still remained in place.

Chris shrugged, before winking at you. "I'm telling you, sleep's gonna be your best friend while you're with us."

You buried your face in the pillow, grumbling to yourself. "Slp fckng sks..."

"What was that?" Chris laughed.

You raised your head, scowling at him.

"I said, sleep fucking sucks."

"True, but-" Ricky began, before casting a sideways glance towards Chris, who returned the gesture. A smirk slowly appeared on both men's faces before Chris turned to look at you, leaning forward until his face was a foot away from yours.

"-If you be a good girl for us and go to sleep like you're supposed to-"

"-Like we want you to-" Ricky cut in.

"-Then we'll make sure to reward you for it," Chris finished, his smirk growing a little.

This caught your attention.

It was no secret (especially to the rest of the band) how much of a certain... fondness... you'd developed for Chris and Ricky.

Although at this point, anyone would say it had become a little bit more than that...

You sat there in silence, contemplating the idea Chris had now planted in your mind.

"I think we've got her," Ricky laughed, exchanging a conspiratorial look with his bandmate, who nodded in agreement.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Chris get up from his spot on the couch, moving to sit behind you. You glanced down to see tattooed arms and hands grabbing the pillow out from between your fingers, placing it behind you on Chris's lap, before those same arms were pulling you closer to the man himself.

"Come on, Y/N," you heard Chris purr softly in your ear, "be a good girl for us, for me. Stop fighting it and just give in, go to sleep for me."

His words were accompanied by a gentle kiss on the soft spot behind your ear, followed by another a little further down, along the side of your neck, and yet another on the back of your shoulder.

Chris's hands slowly moved down to splay flat against your lower belly, his thumbs tracing soothing little circles along the inch or so of skin that lay exposed there, due to your sleep shirt riding up a bit.

The way his hands moved, the gentle seduction of his words in your ear, all of it was much too nice, and you felt your blinks slowly getting longer, almost against your will.

"Oh, Chris, man, she's dozing off," Ricky observed in a soft whisper, a grin playing at his lips. His bandmate gave a soft hum of agreement, gently tugging you down so you were now lying in his lap, your head resting on the pillow.

His hands moved up, grazing lightly over your stomach, your breasts, stopping at your shoulders. Again, his thumbs were tracing little circles along the skin there, slowly coaxing you off into sleep.

But wait, sleep- you didn't want to sleep-

You struggled to keep your eyes open, fighting back a yawn. "But I don't wanna go to sleep-" you mumbled.

Chris softly shushed you, leaning down to place a kiss against your forehead. "Shh, don't fight it, Y/N. Be our good girl and go to sleep."

"Yeah, we'll still be here tomorrow, I promise," you heard Ricky agree, his voice getting closer. Out of the corner of one half-open eye, you saw the guitarist reach down, pulling a blanket over you and tucking the edges in around you. "Get some sleep, babygirl. We're not going anywhere," he murmured.

You watched as he took a seat on the floor next to you, leaning back against the couch, his head resting against your thigh.

"Ricky's right, we're not going anywhere. Get some sleep for us, baby, please?" Chris said softly. You let out a soft grumble in response.

You really didn't want to fall asleep, but fuck, Chris's lap was so comfortable, and ugh, the way Ricky smelled right now-! Everything was so nice, too nice...

Maybe an hour or two wouldn't hurt...

You yawned, before allowing yourself to relax and sink further into Chris's lap, pulling the blanket closer around you.

As your eyes fell closed, you could've sworn you heard Chris murmur, "That's our good girl..."

And as sleep finally claimed you, your mind drifted back to his and Ricky's earlier words, a smile gracing your face.

They better live up to their promise and reward you good for this tomorrow...

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