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#if you are reading the tags i do take gif requests. yes
jedipoodoo · 3 days
Note
Hey! I was wondering if I could request a HunterxReader. Something where Hunter is like really possessive over reader with like another guy? Or one of his brother getting a little too close for his comfort, nothing nefarious, just lite teasing.
Thank you in advance.
Again, you’re doing amazing sweetie!
Me reading this request:
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I hope you enjoy this one!
Man After Midnight (Jealous!Sergeant Hunter x Reader)
Notes: Hunter POV, The Return of The Kyle™, guy gets handsy with reader and Hunter does something about it, alcohol consumption, bar fight, 79s, feel free to check out my personal 79's Playlist here. Spoilers tagged for the gif. Y'all do not know how long it took me to find a season three gif for this one.
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Whenever the squad convinced Hunter to join them at 79's, he tuned out the noises and smells to the best of his abilities. The overlapping of a million voices, all too similar to differentiate, the body odors and cologne, the pounding bass of the pop music, it could get to be too much. 
But when you asked him to join you, he couldn't say no. He was powerless to the pleading in your eyes and the joy in your smile when he finally said yes. Or it could have been how Crosshair commented on how good you looked in the new outfit you'd bought for clubbing, but he'd never admit it.
The six of you crowded into a booth at the back of the bar, farthest from the speakers. Hunter made sure that he got the seat next to you, only for Tech to remind you that it was your turn to grab the drinks from the bar. You smiled at Hunter apologetically as you tried to climb over him without bothering him too much. He had a better idea though, and gently placed his hands on your waist, easily lifting you over his legs and placing you on the outside of the booth. 
Wrecker gave a wolf-whistle at the wide-eyed look on your face, and you quickly looked away, running over to the bar as fast as you could through the crowd. 
The others were chuckling as Hunter frowned. Had he messed up? Was he too forward? He didn't consider himself a shy person, but he'd been so sure that you were sending him signals that you were interested. 
"Hmm," Crosshair hummed. 
"What is it?" Hunter sat up.
Cross smirked, "It seems our resident civilian is attracting some attention." 
Hunter quickly scanned the crowd, looking for you. Halfway between the bar and the squad's booth, drinks spilling out of your arms, you were stopped talking with a senate guard. What one of them was doing here was beyond him, but Hunter didn't like the way he was looking you up and down, and half-blocking you from the booth. He wasn't even offering to help you with the drinks. 
Hunter slammed his hands on the table to push himself out of his seat and marched over to you, shoving the guard to the side. 
"Let me help you with that," He said, taking Wrecker's boilermaker and Tech's martini from where you had kept them expertly balanced. 
"Hey, excuse me clone-" 
"You're excused," Hunter rolled his eyes at the senate guard and nodded you towards the booth, "Let's go." 
"Thank you," You said softly, but he heard it all the same. And you were smiling at him, so he hadn't totally messed up. 
The two of you handed out the drinks to their respective drinkers, and Hunter herded you back into your seat. 
"Who was that?" Wrecker asked, downing half his drink in one go. 
You shrugged, "No one in particular. I think his name was Kyle?"
Hunter huffed. He couldn't tell himself if he was annoyed or amused by this revelation. Of course the smarmy senate guard would have a name like Kyle. 
The evening carried on, Wrecker ordered more drinks, Echo found some old friends from the 212th, and Hunter could hear Tech rambling to a very interested Rodian woman who listened to him describe the nesting habits of rancors with stars in her eyes.
You, of course, were on the dance floor. You were always dancing around the Marauder, humming to yourself as you cleaned up your workspace or made the caff. Whenever Hunter saw you dancing, it felt like all was right with the world.
He spotted Kyle across the room. Hunter was surprised he'd stuck around, the senate guards typically didn't deign the clones to be good enough company to make the way across town to 79's.
But Kyle wasn't paying attention to any of the clones. His beady eyes tracked your every movement out on the dance floor. Hunter felt a rumbling in his chest, like a reek warning others to stay back. 
Kyle, of course, couldn't hear it, and even if he could, he probably would have ignored it anyway. The senate guard shouldered his way through the crowd on the dance floor, announcing his presence by placing his hands on your hips. 
Hunter heard your yelp of surprise and grit his teeth. He launched himself from the booth and marched across the room. Several startled patrons hopped out of the way when they saw the look of pure rage on his face, but all Hunter could focus on were your protests as Kyle grinned. 
"Really sweetheart, I'm just trying to give you a compliment, is all!" Kyle laughed as you flushed in embarrassment, trying to push him away. Kyle's grip tightened on you, but Hunter grabbed him by the shoulder. When Kyle turned with a smart quip, Hunter decked him across the face. 
"They said no!" He snarled, his arm out in front of you like a shield.
A few clones gave out supporting cheers as the senate's flunkie was laid out across the nearest table, but Kyle wasn't the only one present. Two more men, decidedly not clones, approached Hunter menacingly, trying to defend their friend. He saw them coming, but he had to take a hit from the first one so that the other could get close without suspecting too much. Then Hunter took the both of them with one swing. 
"Hunter!" You cried out. A crowd was gathering, and Wrecker was trying to make his way over to you and help Hunter out.
Hunter placed his hands on your shoulder, standing in between you and Kyle.
"You alright?" He asked.
"What?" 
"Look out!" Someone shouted. Hunter shielded you with his body to see the senate guards standing up.
Kyle pushed himself to his feet, though he still leaned unsteadily against the table.
"You're gonna regret that, meatdroid!" He snarled, blood dripping down his chin from a broken nose. Kyle charged towards the two of you, but Hunter stepped to the side at the last minute, catching Kyle by the collar of his dress uniform. It was tight enough already, but with Hunter gripping the fabric, Kyle had to gasped for air. Hunter swung him around and right into his would-be bodyguards.
"No fighting! No fighting!" the steward droid waved its arms, but no one was paying it much attention. Wrecker caught the three stooges by the scruff and happily carried them out the door like a mother tooka, dropping them on the veranda where they could hail a hovertaxi. 
Once he was certain that Kyle was taken care of, Hunter turned to you.
"Are you alright?" He repeated.
"Am I-?" You shook your head, "You have a black eye!" You pointed out, as if Hunter wasn't wincing every time he blinked.
"Just a scrape," He insisted.
"If I had a credit for every time-" You were too upset to even finish your thought, but you grabbed Hunter by the lip of his chestplate, pulling him over to the bar. You asked the serving droid for the medkit, and brought him back into the bathroom stalls.
"That was incredibly stupid of you. You know what kind of trouble you could get into if you hurt them too badly!" You made Hunter sit on the edge of one of the sinks so that you could treat him properly.
Hunter sighed, "Trouble seems to find me regardless of whether I do anything or not."
You fixed him with a death glare that made it clear he was better off not saying anything until you were done treating his wounds, superficial as they may be.
"Don't do that again, you hear me?" You slathered bacta over his eye, and dabbed some on the cut on his lip. Fortunately, there was one more ice pack in the poorly-stocked kit, so you snapped it in half to activate the cooling gel. 
"Sorry cyare, but I'm afraid I can't make that promise."
You froze, the ice back an inch above his eye. He could feel the air cooling around it, and gently took the ice pack from your slackened grasp, pacing it against the swelling skin.
"Hunter," You gasped, "don't say things like that. Even for me, it's not worth the risk." Your hands were shaking, so you busied them by packing up the remains of the medikit. 
Hunter grit his teeth as you turned your back to him, "You are worth every sacrifice I have made. Every shot I've taken, every nightmare that haunts me, every humiliation I've had to endure from those miserable excuses for sentient beings," He waved the ice pack in the air, trying to indicate Kyle and his flunkies.
"It's worth it," He insisted, "Just to see you smile."
He heard your heart beat faster as you swallowed the lump in your throat, and he knew he'd gone too far.
"I... I didn't know you felt that way..." You whispered.
Hunter hopped down from the sink and marched out the bathroom door. He needed a nice, stiff drink.
A couple of the other clones gave him strange looks for the eyepatch, and a few who'd seen the fight asked if he was okay. Hunter ignored them all, trying to flag down a steward droid.
"Hunter!" You shouted his name above the din of the music. He decided it was best to ignore you too.
By the time you finally made your way to him at the bartop, he was halfway through a drink he'd regret in a couple hours.
"What do you think you're doing!?" you demanded, hands on your hips.
"Having a drink, what's it look like I'm doing?" He grunted miserably.
"You can't just tell me you love me and walk away like that!"
Hunter spat out a mouthful of alcohol all over the serving droid, leaving his tongue and his nose burning from the taste.
You, however, were unperturbed by his reaction, folding your arms across your chest.
"Now are you going to ask me to dance or not?"
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markster666 · 2 months
Note
Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =
Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.
ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 878
A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.
Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.
"Everything alright, Alastor?"
"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"
You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.
"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."
His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,
"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"
You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.
He sighed.
"I need to breed."
Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...
"And... why are you telling me this?"
He laughed.
"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."
You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.
"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"
He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.
"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."
You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.
"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."
He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.
You were already in it.
He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.
He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.
"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."
He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.
Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.
"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"
You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.
"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."
His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.
After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,
"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."
You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.
"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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mayhemories · 1 year
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Pregnancy baby trope baby daddy Neteyam x reader please
TELLING NETEYAM YOURE PREGNANT 😩😩😩😩😩😩
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Tsahik Always Knows
Oh my god!! Daddy Neyetam would be so sweet! Also, I'm sorry for the lack of posts, I've been studying overseas and this course is an intensive fieldwork unit so I have had like no time to think. Additionally, some of my tags are working and some are not - I'm so sorry if I miss out on tagging you!
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: none. Vomit? Fluff? 
Words: 1.8k
Author’s Notes: 
Neteyam is 24, reader is 23, established relationship. AU where they never left the forest and Jake is still Olo’eyktan, Neteyam will take that mantle eventually,, happy-happy can’t read or write any more angst for real. 
Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!
Tag List: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila
Read Below Cut:
You stared at the remnants of last night’s dinner on the floor. You had vomited, again. This had been happening in the mornings, on and off for the last few weeks. You did not feel sick, so why were you sick? 
Normally the vomit happened at home. Normally Neteyam had already left to tend to his duties. Normally you could clean it up and pretend like it never happened. 
The heat of your embarrassment swarmed over your neck and shoulders, sweeping up into your cheeks and ears. You knelt, frozen in place over the bile you had just produced. 
On Mo’at’s tent floor. 
She was practically, and legally, your grandmother, and had been since you were nineteen-years-old. But you never thought of her like that. She was your Tsahik, your teacher, your elder, your spiritual guide, healer of the Omaticaya. 
And you had vomited on her floor. 
Mo’at cleared her throat, sitting across from you, your shameful vomit between you. Tears welled in your eyes. This was the worst day of your life. 
“Well, luckily it was just you and me here, hm,” Mo’at said with an unusual lightness, a sweetness that was enough to spin you out of your own thoughts. 
“My Tsahik, I am so sorry I do not know-” 
“Don’t be stupid, how can you not know?” The typical biting Mo’at that you were familiar with came back, quickly. The woman leaned forward with a cloth, mopping up your watery bile like a dealdly secret to be kept between the Tsahik and her assistant.
Now, you really did not know what she meant. You sat up taller, finding a cloth to wipe your mouth clean, something tangible to hold onto. 
“My Tsahik, I promise you, I do not know what you think I know.” You whispered into the cloth at your mouth. Mo’at discarded her cloth that blotted your vomit into a wooden bowl. Some poor trainee will deal with it later. She squinted at you, taking you in. Harshly, she grabbed at your wrists, inspecting your palms, and your shaking, delicate fingers. 
She huffed as she held your wrist tightly in her left, her right hand poking at your cheek, breasts and thighs. “Hey!” you had enough of her prodding, as you pulled your wrist from her vice-like grip. 
“Lay down. Now.” The Tsahik made moves to push you back onto the woven mats on the floor. You were scared and confused and honestly, getting rather emotional. You were still reeling over the embarrassment the vomit caused you. More and more these days you found yourself crying over nothing, or getting easily embarsassed. 
You laid still, scared of Mo’at, and, scared of vomiting again. Flat on your back, you stared at the keen weavings of Mo’at’s medical tent. You hissed, looking down, Mo’at has placed a cold hollowed stone on your lower stomach, her ear pressed against it, she furrowed her brow bone. 
The elder woman jerked up once she was satisfied, discarding her stone instrument, she settled back into her seated position on the floor, you mirroring her. 
“Tsahik-” 
“You are with child, quite obviously.” Mo’at had cut you off, while simultaneously giving you news that ripped all the air from your lungs. 
Your mind was spinning. You were happy, you were sad, you were excited, you were embarrassed. How could you not see the signs within yourself? Obviously you and Neteyam mated often- 
Oh, Eywa. 
Neteyam. 
You were going to have to tell him. 
It was not like you both hadn’t spoken on the topic before, you knew you both wanted kids, a family. Additionally, children were expected, a future Olo'eyktan must be secured. 
But the two of you had not planned for it to happen so soon. You had been so careful, tonics and teas. God, Neteyam pulled out most of the time. 
Subconsciously one hand laid across your abdomen, the other covering your mouth. You felt your eyes struggling to focus on Mo’at, on anything really. You felt like a shell. A shell with a small shell inside. 
“How far along?” You whispered, normally you would scold yourself for your informality towards Mo’at, but you would give yourself a break just this once. 
“A month, maybe two. Nothing more, nothing less. You are not physically showing yet but you cannot be far away.” The rare gentleness from Mo’at rose its head once again. You were grateful for it. “Now, my lovely girl, go. Go collect yourself and tell my grandbaby that you’re having my great-grandbaby.” Mo’at said softly, helping you to your feet. 
You couldn’t remember the short walk from Mo’at’s tent to the home you shared with Neteyam. You felt as if you were on auto-pilot, blacking out and teleporting from place to place. You quickly sat on the side of your shared bed. Furs and gossamer blankets providing comfort to your shaking legs. Laying back, you stared at the gossamer canopy Neteyam had only recently erected above your bed, dangling your legs off the side. 
You rested your hands on your stomach, trying to etch into your memory what it felt like now, knowing that it will eventually swell with the growth of your baby. 
Neteyam’s baby. 
Realistically, you knew that Neteyam won’t be angry. Shocked? Maybe. But angry? Neteyam had never, ever been angry with you before. Emotionally? It was a different story, you imagined Neteyam being frustrated and screaming at you. You imagined him being disappointed. You imagined him packing his things and leaving. The passing thoughts alone were enough to put you on edge. 
Sighing aloud, you had a look at the water clock resting on the other side of the room, you still had a few hours before Neteyam was to return. You still had a few hours to pull yourself together and work out how you were going to spit it out. 
Neteyam ran his hands over his face, pulling up his ionar onto his forehead. His whole body burned from that flight. He had missed you today, not usually staying out on patrol this late, but the young recruits needed training, and Neteyam was always eager to please. But, he was a domestic man at heart, he loved being at home with you, loved pulling you to his chest, loved making whatever new thing you asked for. 
He loved nesting, he realised. Loved doing it with you. 
Striding from the Ikran keeper, Neteyam wanted nothing more than to see you. 
The warm lights of your home welcomed him, though when he peered through the gap in the curtain flap, all he saw was your anxious figure, pacing back and forth, muttering to yourself. The air was wrong, Neteyam had never really seen you like this. He watched quietly, confused as to how you had not scent him already, something was wrong with you and he would be damned if he did not find out what. 
“Oh Eywa, what am I supposed to say?” You prayed silently, wringing your wrists. You thought the pacing would bring you clarity, as it often provided your father-in-law. Yet you felt empty. And so unbearably full at the same time. In the few hours you had to wait for your mate you had come to love the little life growing in your womb.
You were so excited. You could hardly contain yourself. Neteyam would be the most perfect father. But as the night grew closer your brain started to pick itself apart. 
It was all too much. You fell to your knees in the middle of your home, letting the tears flow freely now. 
Neteyam did not let that stand for long. He quickly rushed in, picking you up and placing you in his lap. His strong arms snaking around your sobbing form. Your head quickly found is chest. He felt your hot tears streaming down your beautiful face and onto his skin. Neteyam hushed you, like he watched his mother do with his siblings, gently rocking you back and forth. It was so silent, save from your sobbing hiccups. Neteyam did not dare speak until you had stopped. 
“My love, what has happened?” He asked gently, pulling away to cup your delicate face in his large, calloused hands. His eyes found yours, and he could see something was creating great turmoil in the labyrinth of your complicated, intelligent mind. 
You sighed in response, shaking your head. Trying to find any courage at all. Knowing you have news that will change the course of someone’s life was not something you dealt with well. Maybe you were not cut out to be the clan’s spiritual leader as Tsahik. But that was a different problem for a different day. 
Neteyam placed a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheeks, under your eyes, the tip of your nose, your forehead. You were loved, he said through the gesture. You are safe here. 
“Neteyam,” You started, softly. You were always softspoken. Something of which drove Neteyam crazy in love with you. So gentile, so docile, so calm. “I have something to tell you.” Neteyam’s stomach started to flip at your words, anxiety settling in, but like any good soldier, he willed his face into a blank expression. Giving nothing away. 
And, in turn, giving you nothing. 
“Continue my little love.” He said, putting your baby hairs behind your ears, smoothing your loose hair down as you spoke. 
“Neteyam,” You cleared your throat, forcing that invisible, metaphysical bubble away. “I am with child.” The words hung in the air between you, and all you could do was wait for your mate to respond.
Neteyam felt like he was dreaming. Of all the things he prepared for you to say, you being pregnant was not one of them. 
His tail betrayed him before his mouth did. Rapidly going side to side, the smile that erupted on Neteyam’s face threatened to split his jaw apart. 
You were carrying a baby. His baby. Your baby, together, with him. 
You melted into Neteyam’s searing kiss as he held you flush to his body. Pulling apart, Neteyam’s hands rested on your stomach, bright eyed and smily. He kissed your stomach over and over and over again. Peppering the whole area with his hot lips. You giggled at him. He was perfect. 
“Oh (y/n), I am so happy.” Neteyam kissed you again, your giggles erupting between kisses as he could not decide on what he wanted to look at, your face or your stomach. “How long have you known, sweetheart?” He rested his forehead on yours, his hands resting on your still flat stomach. 
“I found out earlier today.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Your grandmother knew.” 
Neteyam laughed, his shoulders shaking, beads of his braids clinking together. 
“She knows everything.” 
That night as the two of you laid in bed, Neteyam spooning you, you rose out of your slumber briefly. Neteyam’s tail had wrapped itself around your thigh, your own tail sat under your abdomen of its own accord. Neteyam’s fingers splayed over your stomach. He was so protective already. So in love with you and your unborn baby. 
You smiled. Shutting your eyes you thanked Eywa for gifting you with something so precious. 
7K notes · View notes
cheolism · 1 year
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✧ mirror mirror
✧ yoon jeonghan x f!reader ✧ summary: jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are ✧ wc is approx 10.7k ✧ tags: roleplaying, secret relationship (mentioned but not explored), smut ✧ warnings: mdni. feminine pet names, use of slut, pervert, mounting. jealousy, posessiveness, taunting and teasing, picture taking. rough and unprotected sex, squirting, dry humping. mirror sex, aftercare, roleplaying. ✧ request: i’m not quite sure if you’re still taking requests but do you think i could request jeonghan (preferably dom but sub would be fine too) smut with mirror? you can take ur time with it hope it’s not a bother! love reading your fics! have a great day🫶🫶 ✧ anon idk if this is what u wanted but i ran w it. i'm sorry it took a hot minute!!! i hope you enjoy it <3333
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He had been watching you all night. 
Jeonghan's eyes always tended to be turned towards you, but not like this. Usually he watched you with unbridled affection, love, adoration. But tonight his gaze was narrowed, his eyes sharp and dark, accentuated by the way he would constantly brush his dark bangs back and away from his face.
You didn't know what you had done to deserve that look from him. You weren't wearing anything revealing, hadn't done anything tantalizing or seductive. All night you had just sat at the couch, sipping at your drink and nodding along to Seungcheol's words.
Your friend was pleasantly buzzed, a large smile on his face and cheeks blushed. He had defeated a few others in beer pong, but that hadn't meant he walked away unscathed.
"I really think we'll be seeing all this warm weather bite us in the ass come summer," he was saying. "There's no way we don't."
You hummed, agreeing. "Remember when it got so cold that one year where it was in the negatives during the afternoon?"
"Yes!" Seungcheol gasped, eyes bright. Mingyu approached the couch, a pout on his face. He wedged himself next to Seungcheol and the arm of the couch, forcing Seungcheol closer to you.
Your thighs were touching his, his shoulder against yours. The two of you adjusted to get more comfortable, but not separating entirely.
There was movement from the wall. Jeonghan was still watching you, eyes taking in your every move. It was obvious he wasn't paying attention to Seokmin, who was dramatically waving his arms around to emphasize his story.
Jeonghan had, uncharacteristically, worn all black, form-fitting clothing. His jeans clung to his legs, revealing their slender shape; he wore a tank-top that hugged his stomach and chest, only hidden by his jacket. His hair was as black as his clothes, adding to the overall look that had your neurons and electrons screaming, eyes constantly smoothing over his form in an attempt to memorize the look.
Seungcheol shifted. He turned towards you, his wide body partially shielding Jeonghan from your view. He moved his arm to press against the couch, caging you in on one side. Seungcheol's bangs obscured his eyes as he ducked his head, voice low.
"I know you're dating Jeonghan." He ignored your gasp, your eyes widening. "And I know he hasn't looked away from you once all night. How about I help move things along, hm?"
"Seungcheol --"
"Don't worry, princess," Seungcheol grinned, eyes still holding that dangerously bright look. He reached out, hand cradling your cheek. "I won't tell anyone. Won't have to after this."
Then he was being shoved away from you, his body hitting Mingyu's. Your boyfriend was standing in front of the two of you, his drink gone, his jaw jutting out as he visibly tried to reign in his anger. Jeonghan, however much he tried to appear otherwise, wasn't good at hiding his emotions.
His anger was seen in the furrow of his brows, the firmness of his lips; the harsh, dark look of his eyes and the way his hands clenched at his sides.
"Y/n," He began, eyes never moving from Seungcheol. "Didn't you say that you couldn't stay long tonight? I think it's time for you to be going home. Why don't I take you."
You knew he wasn't asking, but commanding. Confused, but obedient, you stood from the couch. "I guess that's all right. See you later, Seungcheol."
"Bye, baby," Seungcheol sang, relaxing back in the couch. He had a little smirk on his face, pleased.
Jeonghan scoffed, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you towards him, his other hand settling on your waist. "Fuck off, Choi Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's laughter followed the two of you as you left the room, Jeonghan's grip on you never faltering. Eyes turned towards the two of you as you left the house party, taking in Jeonghan's hold on you, how urgently he maneuvered you.
Jeonghan said nothing to you as he led you to his car. He did open the passenger door for you, gently pushing you down onto the seat. You peered up at him with wide eyes as he stood before you, towering over your sitting form. "Jeonghan? Seungcheol wasn't doing anything, you don't have anything to be jealous about, I swear."
A soft smile that countered the past five minutes took over Jeonghan's face. He braced his hands on the car, leaning down and lowering his face towards you. "I know, sweetheart. But let's pretend he was, and let's pretend that I do."
"Pretend?"
Jeonghan's smile turned into a little smirk, the dark look that he had worn inside the house from watching you with Seungcheol returning to his face. "Pretend, my darling. Let's pretend Seungcheol was intent on fucking your perfect little pussy, and let's pretend I'm driven mad by jealousy, mad enough to fuck your cunt raw."
Every single thought flew out of your mind, eyes wide on your boyfriend. It was like the whole world went silent, shocked by his words.
Then you rewound his words. He wanted to pretend that Seungcheol, his best friend, had wanted -- you gulped -- wanted to "fuck your perfect little pussy", wanted to pretend that he was jealous so he could have an excuse to fuck you roughly.
The two of you had begun having sex a few weeks ago, a month after you had begun your relationship. There hadn't been enough time for the two of you, in your shared opinion, to be fully comfortable with having rougher sex.
Not that sex had been boring with Jeonghan. Not with how expertly he worked his fingers in your cunt, exploring within you. Not with how he was content to just lay between your thighs, arms wrapped around them to keep them spread wide, tonguing lazily at your clit for what seemed to be hours on end.
But still --
"If it's okay with you, of course," Jeonghan hurriedly added. He stepped off the curb, crowding into the car. His fingers sunk into your hair, tilting your head back. Jeonghan's eyes flickered over your face, drinking you in. "We can talk about it more on the drive."
You nodded, swallowing harshly.
Jeonghan smiled. He bent down, pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. The smell of alcohol hit your nose, and you couldn't help but wrinkle it.
Jeonghan laughed. "Cute."
Another kiss, this time deeper. He moved his mouth against yours lavishly, taking his time, as if the world would stop turning just so he could devour you. Each press was quick and wet, his tongue rolling into your mouth and mixing his spit with yours; each press sent a wave of heat through you, your head beginning to spin.
Jeonghan moved away, a string of spit connecting his mouth to yours, the smack of mouths separating sending a final wave of heat, one that landed in your cunt.
He laughed, darting forward to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. "How cute you are. You look like I've been fucking you when all we've done is kiss."
"Hush." You turned your head away from him, breaking his hold. Jeonghan pulled away and shut the car door, but even then you could hear the sound of his giggles.
One thing about Yoon Jeonghan, you had come to discover, was that he was absolutely shameless. The two of you kept your relationship on the quieter end, but that didn't stop him. He'd tug you to the back of the group when you were with your friends, just so he could slip his hand into your back pocket and squeeze. He'd grab you before you walked out the door for work whenever the two of you spent the night together, pressing you against the wall and ravishing your mouth and neck, leaving bites and sucking hickeys.
He took delight in your embarrassment and it seemed the more embarrassed you got, the more pleased he was.
"Aesh," Jeonghan sighed, sliding in the driver's door. "Can't believe you're still embarrassed by a little kissing."
"You kissed me like -- like --" You shot him a look, curling your lip a little, hoping he would drop it.
"Like what?" Jeonghan taunted, putting the key into the ignition. "Like we were fucking?"
You gasped, shooting him a wide-eyed look. "Yoon Jeonghan!"
He laughed, putting on his seat belt. You were quiet as he pulled off the side of the road, the radio softly singing and filling the silence.
"So about me being jealous," Jeonghan began, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "I'm not. Just want to clarify. I know Seungcheol was just fucking around with me. But it would be fun to pretend, wouldn't it?"
You hummed, shifting in the seat. You reached towards the console, pushing on your seat warmer. Jeonghan shook his head when you shot him an inquiring look, declining the warmer.
"What would it include? Being jealous?"
Jeonghan shrugged. His black hair was pushed behind his ears with just enough curl to where the strands hugged the bottoms of his earlobes. He looked so sweet, with his impish little grin and large eyes. Jeonghan was so beautiful, so angelic, so princely --
And underneath it all was a pervert.
"Well. It includes all the territory that comes with being jealous when someone's trying to fuck their partner. Possessiveness, manhandling, hickeys. Fucking your sweet little cunt relentlessly, shoving my dick inside." Your pussy, shamefully, clenched aruond nothing at the lewdness. "Proving that every single inch of you, every centimeter, from the precious hair on the top of your head, your tight cunt, your littlest toe, is mine.
"If you're interested in that kinda thing."
You turned away from Jeonghan, tongue running over your lips.
Against your better judgement you began imagining it. Jeonghan's large hands squeezing your thighs, peeling them apart. His mouth on your breast, biting and sucking in turn, tongue running over your hardened nipples. Nails digging into your skin, shoulders wedging between your legs. Fingers working you open just enough to fit his dick without causing you pain, careless otherwise.
Jeonghan ramming his dick into your cunt, immediately filling you with his entire length and cockhead hitting your core. Your legs draped over his shoulders, his body flush against yours, his fingers squeezing your skin hard enough to leave bruises.
"You wouldn't be mean, would you?" You leaned forward, pushing the seat warmer off. Your ass was warm, and combined with the warmth that was quickly mounting in your cunt made you uncomfortable.
Mounting.
Jeonghan, in a fit of possessiveness, flinging you to your stomach. Hands grabbing at your hips, wrenching you up for him to fuck you on his cock, mounting you like --
Maybe you were the pervert.
"No," Jeonghan agreed, "I wouldn't be mean. And if I say anything you don't like, you can use the safe word and stop it. Besides. You're too cute. I don't think anyone can be mean to you."
You threw Jeonghan an exasperated look.  He was grinning, the streetlights casting shadows on his face, exaggerating the cut of his cheekbones, shrouding him in darkness and light both.
"Okay." You licked your lips again. "Let's do it."
"Say it." Jeonghan sang, removing one hand off of the wheel to tuck some stray black hairs behind his ear. "I want you to say it. Say 'Jeonghan, my darling, my love, I want you to fuck me like a jealous lover.'"
Huffing, you turned away from him and looked out the window. Jeonghan giggled. You crossed your legs at the ankles, tucking your hands underneath your thighs. Softly, just enough so he could hear, you repeated his words. "Jeonghan, I want -- I want you to fuck me like you're jealous."
"Why would I be jealous, sweet girl?"
You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, squirming. He used such sweet names with you, and it was absolutely horrible how they sent warmth flooding through you, how they seemed to settle in the pit of your gut, your pussy clenching and gushing.
"You'd -- you'd be jealous of Cheollie," you murmured. "Jealous of Cheollie wanting . . ."
"What does he want?"
You licked your lips, watching the line of his sharp jaw, the way his dark eyes stared straight ahead. "He wants -- he wants to fuck me."
"Fuck your what?"
A little gasp escaped you. As your words left your lips your pussy began to leak, juices slowly trickling out and seeping into your underwear. "Cheollie wants to fuck my -- my pussy."
It was as if Jeonghan won a competition. His face lit up, satisfaction practically radiating off of him. He looked so thoroughly smug, getting you to say such dirty words.
You glanced down at his lap. His jeans, which had done nothing to hide the muscle of his thighs and the shape of his legs, did absolutely zilch in concealing the bulge of his dick. It pressed against his jeans, and you bet he felt so uncomfortable like that. You wanted to reach over the console and unzip his jeans, reach into his boxers and take out his cock, his pretty long cock.
Immediately your mouth went to watering, and you were mortified when you shifted and felt the wetness of your underwear. You were leaking from both your mouth and cunt and all Jeonghan had done was say some dirty words.
You were such a fucking pervert.
Jeonghan's little hum distracted you from your peril. He lowered the volume of the radio, even though you could barely hear it in the first place. He didn't return his hand to the wheel; instead he laid his hand on your thigh, fingers quickly squeezing your flesh before relaxing.
"You've been so mean to me tonight," Jeonghan sighed, pressing his pretty lips into a frown. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you? Letting Seungcheol snuggle up against you like that on the couch."
"Hannie?"
His hand squeezed your thigh again. His fingers, his long and elegant fingers that should be used for playing piano or guitar or something other than what your pussy hoped he was going to use them for, shifted up your thigh.
You should've worn a skirt or shorts, damn the winter weather.
"You sat with Seungcheol all night." Jeonghan's fingers brushed against the inside seam of your jeans. You watched, transfixed, as his nails played with it. "Ignored me, your boyfriend, in favor of my best friend."
"Didn't mean to," you whispered, swallowing absentmindedly. He tapped his fingers against your inner thigh and immediately you were spreading your legs, baring yourself for him.
A laugh left Jeonghan, amused by your obedience. His hand slid over your thigh and settled over your clothed cunt. A sharp gasp left you, both of your hands shooting to hold his wrist in place. Before you could help it you were grinding your hips up, driving your cunt against his hand.
"What a needy slut you are," Jeonghan said conversationally, as if he was just remarking on the weather. Then he paused. "Is that mean?"
You shook your head. "No. Not mean."
"Did you like it?" You went silent. Jeonghan, delighted, laughed. "Let me feel your cunt. I bet you did like it."
You released his hand. You were mortified of the mess you knew awaited him in your pants. Wetness had completely soaked your underwear, your cunt hot and clenching frantically, as if you were -- as if you were a needy slut.
Once your jeans were bunched around your knees, Jeonghan's hand returned to your cunt. He pressed it against your underwear, trapping it between his hand and your pussy. "You definitely liked it.  Your cunt has fucking soaked your panties. I bet I could drink your juices right from your panties."
You gasped, offended and thoroughly turned on by the image. Jeonghan ignored you. "We'll be pulling into the lot soon. As soon as we leave the car, it starts, okay? Is that okay?"
You nodded. Jeonghan removed his hand from your cunt, making you clench. Part of you wanted Jeonghan to just stick his fingers inside of you already, to press your underwear to the side and fuck you in the car.
That, however, was too much for you right now.
So you hiked your jeans back up your thighs, frowning at the feeling of your underwear sticking to your cunt once again.
Jeonghan pulled into his car space, unclipping his seat belt as he did. Once he had the car in park and turned off the engine, he reached to you. One of his hands went to your belt, guiding it off of you. "Remember, sweetheart. Just pretend.”
“Just pretend,” you echoed back, smiling at him.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, both of his hands moving to cradle your face. “How fucking cute,” he sighed, as if your cuteness was burdensome. He ducked forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick kiss. “I adore you.”
You laughed a little, delighted. You reached up, hands covering his and keeping them on your face. Your lips sought his back out, pressing a sweet kiss to them. Jeonghan, who was always eager for kisses and hardly ever turned them down, let out a little moan against your mouth. 
His hands sunk into your hair, bringing you closer. Jeonghan’s mouth began to move urgently against yours, trapping your lips between his, each kiss more hurried and sloppy than the one before it. 
It was weirdly hot, listening to the slick sounds of your mouth against his, kissing so desperately in his car. Your cunt gushed slick, and when you couldn’t help but pitch forward, grinding your clit down on your seat, your mouth parted in a wide, noiseless gasp. 
Jeonghan parted from you, his lips in a little grin. “So needy,” he cooed. Jeonghan pressed a final kiss to your mouth. “You ready?”
At your nod, Jeonghan was taking out the keys and opening the car door. You scrambled to leave your seat, shoving the seat belt back inside the car when it tried to hang out. 
Jeonghan was fumbling with his keys, leaning against the car when you joined him. His black hair was obscuring his face, and for a moment you were confused. 
Then he sighed, one of his hands reaching up and pushing his hair out of his face. He gave you a sharp look, his eyes hard. “What a greedy slut I’ve got on my hands, hm?”
Realization and heat flooded your system. You gaped, eyes widening a little. 
Jeonghan shook his head, pushing off of the car. He crossed to you, his hands settling on your waist. “Imagine how it looked to everyone else at that party, Y/n. Seungcheol was practically wrapped around you, his eyes fucking you right there in front of me. And you just let him.”
He laughed, a humorless thing that had your heart dipping down into the pit of your stomach. One of his hands wiggled up underneath your shirt, fingers lightly digging into your hip. “God. I bet every single bastard in that place thinks he’s the one fucking you at night. Do you think? Do you think that Mingyu thinks it’s Seungcheol making you cry at night with his dick, thinks it’s Seungcheol who makes your cunt seep so much wet that it could drown a man?”
You were saying his name, though no sound left your lips. Jeonghan shook his head, long lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes to further envelope himself in the role. “Do you think Seungcheol dreams of it? I bet he does. I bet he’s going to go home tonight and stick his hands down his pants and think of you.”
“Jeonghan!” You finally gasped, your hand, seemingly of its own will, reaching up and slapping his shoulder. 
His eyes flew open, his mouth splitting into a smile that you could only describe as villainous. “Oh? Are you trying to feign innocence? Trying to pretend that you’re some little perfect princess? Trying to convince yourself that you have no part in all this?”
“I --” You gulped. Jeonghan parted from you, though one of his hands remained on you. He used it to guide you away from the car and towards the building. “Seungcheol’s your friend, Jeonghan.”
“You think that matters?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Think friendship matters when it comes to this?”
“He wouldn’t.” Jeonghan’s hand slides down your waist and to your ass as the two of you come upon the stairs, softly pushing and guiding you up the stairs. “Seungcheol isn’t like that.”
Jeonghan laughed. “And if he is? Do you know what it’s like, little dove? Knowing that it’ll be your girl that your best friend’s thinking about tonight when he fucks the nearest cunt? Knowing that it’s your girl who is so blissfully unaware?”
“Or,” Jeonghan began, holding out the word as the two of you ascended onto your floor. He used his grip on you to tug you close, your side against his. “Is that what you’re wanting?”
“Jeonghan!” You snapped. He shook out the keys, long fingers finding the correct one and sticking it into the keyhole. “You’re just being bullheaded about this. You’re making a mountain out of a mole hole.”
“Yeah?” He pushed open the door, immediately flicking on the light. Then he was yanking the keys out of the hole, both of his hands going to your hips. Jeonghan practically shoved you inside the apartment, though his grip was secure. Once the two of you were inside he slammed the door shut, throwing the keys onto the floor. 
One of his hands moved from your hip to cradle the back of your head, and then he was pushing you up against the door. Jeonghan’s hand kept your head from slamming against it, and once you were settled he used the grip on your hair to angle your face up towards him. “You really think I’m just being stubborn?”
Your lips were already parted, your heavy breathing drying them out. You gulped, running your tongue over them and not missing how his dark eyes seemed to zero in on your mouth. “Yes. You’re being -- you’re being ridiculous, Yoon Jeonghan. There’s nothing to be jealous about?”
“Nothing?” He practically hissed the word. Jeonghan pressed himself against you, wedging his leg between yours, knee knocking against the door. His other arm came up and trapped you, keeping you still. “Nothing to be jealous about, sweetheart? So tell me, then, if you’re so smart. Tell me that every single time Seungcheol watched your lips, tell me that every single time his hand went to your thigh, every time he leaned in so close --”
At this Jeonghan lowered his head, his warm breath hitting your face. You could count his eyelashes. 
“-- he wasn’t imagining kissing you, wasn’t imaging fucking you right there on that couch in front of me, making me watch.
“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me I’m just jealous over nothing.”
You licked your lips again, feeling trapped. You knew, logically, that all of what Jeonghan had just said were lies. Seungcheol never watched your mouth when you spoke, his hand had never gone even close to your thigh. He never leaned as close as Jeonghan was now, so close that you could just push up to the tips of your toes and your lips would be on his. 
But Jeonghan, looming over you, exuded a predator waiting to pounce. His eyes were so dark they were practically black, focused on you. His body was caging you in, leaving you no room to wiggle. 
“You’re --” Your hands moved to settle on his arms, squeezing. “You’re jealous over nothing, Yoon Jeonghan.”
He growled as soon as his name left your lips. Jeonghan’s hand in your hair tightened, and he used the hold to bare your neck. Immediately his lips were on it, biting. 
A loud gasp left you, your eyes squeezing shut. 
Jeonghan’s tongue smoothed over the bite, trying to take away the sting. Then his lips were traveling, skimming, trailing his tongue over your skin and causing gooseflesh to pebble. A little whine escaped you. 
“There we are,” he murmured. He reattached his lips to your skin, beginning to suck. While he worked at bruising and marking your neck, he raised the leg that was between your thighs. Once his knee bumped at your cunt you were folding, grinding down on it as if it was his cock. 
“Jeonghan,” you moaned, feeling something begin to build. Pressure was mounting in your cunt, and you used Jeonghan’s thigh to rub off as if the two of you were horny teenagers who couldn’t even make it to the bed. 
“How needy you are,” he breathed against your neck. He released your hair, his fingers moving to ghost over your neck and the marks he left. You couldn’t help but hiss as he pressed his fingers into a particular spot, wincing. “You’re so fucking needy. No wonder you were off fucking with Seungcheol. Just can’t help yourself, can you? As soon as your boyfriend is looking away you’re searching for the nearest dick.”
You shook your head, hands squeezing at his shoulders and nails digging in. “No! Not -- not the nearest -- not Cheol --”
Jeonghan laughed, moving away from you. His hands settled on your hips, guiding you into a harsh ryuthym as you grinded down on his thigh. “Here you are fucking yourself on my thigh and still thinking about him. I bet you could get off like this, can’t you? Get off on my thigh like a little slut.”
Biting on your lip, you shook your head. “Won’t! I won’t, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan hummed. “I bet you would if it was Seungcheol.”
“Wouldn’t! I wouldn’t --” A particular drag of your cunt against his leg had your back arching, mouth widening and eyes shutting. Pleasure shot through you, as if you were doing something more than just using your boyfriend’s thigh. 
“You would,” Jeonghan argued. “So needy you don’t even need a cock.”
“I need it,” you whined, shaking your heard. Your hands moved from his shoulders, going to grip at his hair. Then you were lowering his head, forcing Jeonghan closer. “Need your cock, Jeonghan.”
He didn’t get a chance to do anything before your mouth was on his, devouring. You took his lower lip between both of yours, sucking. Jeonghan let out a little moan, his fingers digging into your hips and stilling him. He ignored your whine. Instead Jeonghan focused on your mouth, shoving his tongue inside of it, forcing his spit into your mouth, using it, fucking it.
Lungs burning, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t manage to go far, smearing your combined saliva over his mouth and chin as you fought to catch your breath. 
Jeonghan squeezed your hips. “All good, dove?”
You nodded, hands releasing his hair. 
“Give me the safe word, darling,” Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Need to know you’re not all spent out from just kissing.”
You rolled your eyes, finally straightening. Jeonghan’s eyes were twinkling, though they hadn’t lost that dark, predatory look. “Green.”
His mouth returned to yours, pressing sloppy kisses to your lips. His hands moved from your hips, dipping inside of your jeans. You fought the urge to grind down on his thigh as Jeonghan’s fingers made quick work of your button and zipper, his fingers hooking into your jeans and underwear and pulling them over the curve of your ass. 
You stepped out of your jeans, and he was kicking them away. Jeonghan’s hands went to your hips and he was grinding his knee back up into your cunt, the fabric of his jeans dragging deliciously against you. You couldn’t help the little cry that left you, tilting your head back and letting it hit the door. 
“I don’t think you deserve my cock just yet,” Jeonghan murmured, leading your hips into motion. He had your clit dragging down on his jeans, insuring that every tilt back or forward had your clit moving over hte fabric, ensuyring that your cunt was soaking his pants. “Gotta earn it. Especially after your little show with Seungcheol.”
You shook your head. “Jeonghan, want your dick. I want it, please.”
“How prettily you beg,” Jeonghan laughed, though there was no happiness, no joy in it. “Love it when you beg. But you’re gonna have to give me more than that, my pretty little slut. Come on, dove. I’m giving you my thigh like a good boyfriend does. If you’re so devoted for me, like you’re claiming you are, you can get off just with my thigh. Can’t you? I know you can, sweetheart. I can feel your juices soaking my pants, can feel your little hole fluttering. Just have to give me one orgasm, lovely. Come on, cum for me.”
The cry that left you was absurdly loud. Your back arched against the door, your hips coming up and off of Jeonghan. He cursed, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place while his other hand went to your cunt. 
Jeonghan’s fingers went to your clit, working at it furiously. You were still cumming, cries and moans leaving you freely. 
As soon as you were finished, panting and squeezing your eyes closed, you relaxed against the door. Jeonghan wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you into him fully. “Good job, sweetheart. Knew you could do it for me.”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. Once you caught your breath, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Okay. Green.”
Jeonghan pulled back, one of his hands moving to your face. He reached up and tucked your hair back from your face, smoothing it and wiping off the sweat that had begun to accumulate. “You look like I’ve been fucking you all night.”
You laughed, breathless. “I feel like it.”
“Oh?” Jeonghan’s hands resumed their place on your hips, fingers digging in. You gasped, eyes wide and looking up at him. “But I’m not done with you yet, little dove. In fact, I don’t think we’ve even started.”
Then he was using his grip to hoist you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Jeonghan moved from the door, stepping further into the hall. 
“Wait.” As soon as the word left your lips Jeonghan was pausing, eyes on your face. You tugged on one of the dark strands of hair. “Boots. Have to take off your boots.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but then he was setting you on the floor. “Way to kill the mood, little dove. Go wait for me on the bed.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, jumping onto your toes to press a quick kiss to his chin. Then you were taking off down the hall, ignoring the sound of your boyfriend grumbling behind you. 
As soon as you were in your bedroom you were shucking off your socks, leaving them in the doorway. You undressed the rest of the way, leaving your clothes in a trail to your bed. 
You practically threw yourself onto it, sprawling out. You could hear Jeonghan stomping about, moving from the hall and into the bathroom. 
Absentmindedly, your hands began to wander over your body. Your fingers trailed over your stomach, leaving a tingling path behind them. You pressed them to your nipples, neary hissing in pain from how erect they were. Unable to help yourself you rolled them, toes curling in delight. 
“Well well,” Jeonghan began from the doorway. You hurriedly sat up, not having heard him leave the bathroom. “If this is a present to make up for your little act with Seungcheol, I’d consider you maybe a little bit forgiven.”
“Only a little?” You joked, wrinkling your nose at him. “After the whole incident at the door? Only a little?”
Jeonghan laughed, walking further into the room. You watched, eager, as he tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. Jeonghan undressing, you had come to discover, was just as good as undressing him yourself. He always went slow, letting you take in the sight. 
He draped his jacket over your desk chair, his forearms flexing. His black tank top clung to his torso, revealing the sharp angles of his collarbone and showing off his long, pale neck. Jeonghan, though not considerably buff, was lean. He didn’t have the biggest biceps or thighs or whatever of his friends, but still you watched his biceps clench as he worked at undoing his watch, watched his muscles jump as he gripped the bottom of his tank top and began pulling. 
You don’t know exactly what noise escaped you as his chest was revealed, but you were so turned on that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Your eyes roamed over his pale chest, taking in the shape of pecs, the soft little curve of his waist. 
Yoon Jeonghan was many things, many contradictory things. He was sweet and kind, mischievous and impulsive. He was the first person you turned to for comfort, the last when you had a secret. He was an angel; a devil. 
But one thing that was hard fact, you knew, was that Yoon Jeonghan was absolutely beautiful. 
His hands moved to his pants, which he had left undone. You moved from your spot on the bed, shifting to perch at the edge and watch. Jeonghan began moving closer, pushing his pants down. 
As soon as he was close enough you were reaching for him. You tucked your hands underneath the band of his underwear, pulling. His cock slapped against his stomach once freed, red and angry, white precum pulsing from the tip. 
You liked your lips, moving to grab his dick. 
Immediately his hands were around your wrists, pulling your hands away from him. You gasped, looking up at him, affronted. “Jeonghan!”
He gave you a sly little look, shaking his head. “Come on. You think cumming on my thigh was enough to make me forget about your little flirtation with Seungcheol?”
Jeonghan used his grip on your wrists to pull you up and off the bed. The sudden motion had you tipping forward and flat into his chest, face pressing against the fabric of his tank top. He still smelled like the expensive cologne he wore, still smelled sharp and elegant, like wood and richness. 
“Please,” he scoffed, releasing his hold on one of your wrists to reach up and press your hair back from your face. Undoubtedly you looked horrible. You probably looked like -- well, you probably looked like you had orgasmed against a door. Still Jeonghan looked at you hungrily, drinking in the way you pulled at his hold, the little breath that left you when he refused to let go. “Do you really think I’d be satisfied watching you get off on my leg? Just anyone could lend you their thigh, little dove.”
He leaned down, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your face when he spoke. “But I know only one person who can fuck as you as good as you deserve.”
“Yeah?” You replied, breathless. His eyes were so black that you could barely differentiate between the pupil and iris. “And who’s that?”
Jeonghan chuckled then, but you knew he didn’t find anything funny about what you had said. He tilted your chin up towards him with one of his fingers, his thumb running over your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him and let Jeonghan slip his thumb inside. You wrapped your lips around it, hollowing them and sucking. 
“What a good girl,” he hummed, his eyes narrowed in on where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. “Too bad you’re good for just anyone.”
Jeonghan removed his thumb from your mouth. Horridly, you followed, mouth still open to take it back in. He gripped your jaw, holding you in place. “Ah-ah, little dove. Sit down on the edge of the bed for me.”
He released you. The sudden freedom from his body had you staggering, unbalanced from leaning against Jeonghan. His hands went to your elbows almost immediately, adjusting you to be upright once more. “All good?”
At your nod, Jeonghan was pushing you back onto the bed. You watched as he slid his pants and underwear the rest of the way down his legs, revealing his soft, ivory white thighs and calves. You wanted to reach out and hold them, to press your fingers into his skin and watch as your fingers imprinted on him. 
Instead you sat still, eyeing him. Jeonghan went to the standing mirror in the room, adjusting it. When he tilted it to the bed, realization hit you. “Can you see yourself, Y/n?”
You gulped a little, shifting slightly. “Yeah. I can see.”
“Good.” He stalked back to the bed, eyeing you. “Now stand up.”
You obeyed. Jeonghan sat where you had been previous, leaning back on one hand. “Get in my lap.”
You hesitated. 
Jeonghan immediately turned his sharp eyes on you, narrowing them. “What are you doing? You were so desperate to show off for me earlier when you were with Seungcheol. Are you getting shy for me now? Now after you’ve came on my thigh, after you’ve soaked your panties? Or do you only show off for Seungcheol?”
You shook your head. You went to him, and once you were close enough his hands were on your waist, turning you around. Jeonghan guided you onto his lap, pressing you down so you were trapping his dick underneath your ass. He held you down for a moment, grinding his hips up into you, letting his dick rub against you. 
“What a good little dove,” he hummed, releasing you. Jeonghan reached around you, grabbing your thighs and spreading them. “Hook them on either side of me.”
Slowly, like prey trying not to move too quickly as to alert the predator stalking them from the grass, you spread your thighs. You tucked your feet behind his thighs. The cold air of the room pressed oppressively against your cunt, which had been kept warm by the heat of your arousal, causing you to shiver against Jeonghan. 
“Look at how you glisten,” Jeonghan said, his hands settling on your thighs. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
Helpless, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes to the mirror. You were completely bare, offering yourself to it. You could see where your feet were wrapped around his legs, how his pale hands contrasted against the skin of your thighs. His large dark eyes watching you from over your shoulder, the little smile that he didn’t even try to hide. Your nipples, the way your breast hung, your tongue dragging over your lips. 
Your cunt, bare of any cloth covering it, and the wetness that gushed from it.
“How pretty,” Jeonghan said. 
You turned your face from the mirror, trying to face him. As quick as lightning his hand was on your chin, directing you back towards the mirror. Jeonghan hooked his chin over your shoulder, curling his lip at you, trusting you to be looking at him through the mirror. “Eyes on the mirror, darling. I want you to keep your eyes open and on the mirror at all times. Want you to make sure you know just who’s fucking you tonight.”
“Jeonghan --”
“That’s right,” he cooed, squeezing mouth shut with his hand. “And that’s the only name you ever need to remember.”
Then he released you, his hand smoothing over your skin. You watched his long, elegant fingers, so thin and yet always seemingly so thick when they were buried to the knuckle inside of your cunt, travel down your neck. Your skin pebbled, gooseflesh rising, as his hand traveled. He pressed his hand down over one of your breasts, grabbing it roughly. You watched, transfixed, as he palmed at it, rubbing and kneading. 
“Jeonghan,” you sighed, eyes glancing up and meeting his in the mirror. “Hannie, please.”
His fingers took your nipple, pinching. You let out a little cry, face contorting as he manipulated it, stretching and rubbing and tweaking it. His other hand came to join the first with your other breast, abusing your nipples. 
You wiggled in his grasp, trying to get away from his evil hands. Jeonghan hushed you, moving to still your hip. Your message had worked, however, and his hands traveled from your breasts to over your stomach before they dipped between your thighs. 
It was odd, watching his hands spread open your thighs in the mirror. You could see how his fingers skimmed over the inside of your thighs, stimulating the area and making you shiver. Whenever his fingers neared your cunt you couldn’t help but clench, helpless, yearning for him to just sink them inside of you already. 
Finally, after what seemed to be the hundredth time of him teasing you, you broke. You began turning in his hold, whining. “Jeonghan, please --”
Immediately his hand was on your jaw, pushing you to look back to the mirror. “What did I say, you little slut?” He forced his hand back between your thighs, wedging them open. “Keep your eyes on the mirror. You wanted this, remember.”
With two of his fingers he was spreading the lips of your pussy, showing you off in the mirror. He laughed. “Look at how fucking wet you are. I’ve barely done anything to you. How long have you been like this, little dove? All night? Since the car? Have you been wishing, thirsting for my cock in your tiny cunt? I bet you have. I bet you’ve been wet ever since I kissed you on the curb outside of that house, you little slut.
“In fact,” he said, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “I bet you’ve been wet since you sat with Seungcheol. I bet you’ve been wet the entire you talked to him, knowing that I was watching you. Knowing that I wanted nothing more than to take you over the side of the couch right in front of Seungcheol and make watch, make him watch as I fuck your cunt until tears pour from your pretty eyes.”
Slowly, tauntingly, Jeonghan’s fingers dipped inside of your pussy. Not enough to do anything other than to gather your wetness but it still had you gasping, arching up into him. 
Jeonghan removed his hand, raising it up to the light. “So wet. I bet you’re soaking the bed right now.”
Jeonghan shifted, bringing his hand to his mouth. You couldn’t help but turn your head and watch as his lips closed around his digits, as his cheeks hollowed out and he drank in your pussy juice. 
He released his fingers from his mouth with a pop, licking his lips as if he had just tasted the nectar of the gods instead of your cunt. “Fuck. I could taste your cunt all day.”
His hand returned to your pussy, fingers tracing over your folds. You spread your legs involuntarily, subconsciously hoping he would take pity on you and shove his fingers in. Jeonghan tilted his head, and you could feel his hair brush against your bare shoulder. “What’s this? Eager, aren’t we?”
You nodded. “Please,” you whispered, eyeing him in the mirror. “Please, Jeonghan.”
He laughed against you, burying his face into your shoulder. Jeonghan pressed a kiss into the skin there, his lips brushing against your skin as you spoke. “Please what, darling? You have to use your words.”
“Your fingers,” you stuttered, canting your hips up. “Please use your fingers on me.”
Jeonghan settled his chin on your shoulder, pouting at you from over your shoulder. “Hm. But you have to say my name.”
Your eyes moved to his hand, zeroing in on the movement. “Jeonghan.”
He tsked, and you both watched and felt as his finger tapped against your cunt. If you had more of a presence of mind you would be ashamed about how eagerly your hips sought out his fingers, about how your cunt gushed fluid and about how desperately you needed him. 
Because you needed him. You needed Jeonghan. You needed his fingers inside of you, needed them arrowing against your core, needed them fucking your pussy. You needed to feel his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, needed him to make you feel full. You needed his mouth on your skin, needed him wrapped around you. 
Before Jeonghan, you never knew what it meant to want. You wanted to eat, wanted a million dollars. But you never knew what it meant to want something carnally, not to this degree, not to where you were willing to do absolutely anything if it meant he would fuck you. 
“Again, sweet one,” he murmured, voice like silk in your ear. He always had a beautiful voice, even when he was telling lies. But somehow Jeonghan’s voice seemed even more enchanting like this, in your ear and whispering dirty commands. “Say my name again.”
“Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, as clear as glass. 
As soon as his name left your lips he was dipping two of his fingers inside of your cunt. A loud gasp left you, your head tilting back against him and eyes fluttering shut. It felt so good. It felt as if this was what you had been missing all your life, as if his two fingers were the oxygen you needed to breathe, as if he could provide the key to Heaven with just his two fucking fingers --
And then he was arubtly pulling them from you, leaving your hole clenching and hungry. You cried out, curling against him, powerless. “Jeonghan!”
“I said,” he began, voice just as smooth as before and yet carrying sternness that had you stilling against him, “to keep your eyes on the mirror.”
 You turned back to face the mirror, chest heaving. You looked pathetic. Your mouth was wide, your legs spread, pussy bared for the whole world to see. 
“Take your eyes off the mirror again and you’ll be left like this,” he warned, the hand on your hip squeezing harshly. “I’m serious. I want your eyes on the mirror until I tell you to take them off. Or are you such a desperate slut that you can’t even do that? Should I call Seungcheol, then? Have him come and fuck you?”
You shook your head, eyes on the mirror like he said. “No. No, Jeonghan, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Good,” he said, rubbing your hip. His fingers smoothed over your cunt, petting it. “I don’t want to have to leave you all desperate on the bed, little dove. You know that if you’re suffering, I’m suffering.”
If you had more presence of mind, you’d be scoffing at his words, able to pick apart the apathy in them. But as it was, your mind was intent on one thing. 
“I’ll be good,” you repeated. “I’ll be good, Jeonghan.”
He shot you a smile in the mirror. “See? It isn’t hard, is it?”
Jeonghan’s fingers sunk into you slowly, the drag of them against your walls making your toes curl. You watched, captivated, with how your cunt seemingly devoured his fingers, as they slowly disappeared from your sight in the mirror. 
“God, your cunt really was desperate,” he said, laughing a little. Jeonghan settled his fingers fully inside of you, leaving them there, letting them fill you. “Look at us, Y/n. It’s like we’re meant for each other, don’t you think? Like you were meant to be here, sitting in my lap, my fingers buried to the knuckle in your cunt.
“And can you feel how tightly you grip my fingers?” Jeonghan asked, slowly sliding his fingers from your pussy. Your cunt protested, clenching down on his digits. You couldn’t help but whine, a high thing that pierced through the bedroom. He held his fingers up in front of you, spreading them. Strings of your juices hung from his fingers, dripping down over the ridges of his digits and down his hand, traveling to his arm. He pressed a kiss to your ear. “And look at this, dove. Look at how you’re dripping down my hand. You’re absolutely soaked. I bet I could slide my cock right inside of your cunt.”
You let out a long, shuddering breath. Your hands went to his hips, reaching back and squeezing. Shifting, you relaxed back against him, offering your cunt. “Jeonghan, please.”
He kissed your ear again, murmuring softly. “That’s right, my darling dove. Jeonghan. It’s Jeonghan who makes you this wet, it’s Jeonghan who gets you.”
You watched as he settled his hand against your side, the stickiness of your slick wetting your skin. Jeonghan slowly slid his hand down over your skin, the stimulation causing your skin to pebble and your toes to curl against his calf. You clenched when his hand made it to your groin, watching in the mirror as his long fingers neared your cunt. 
“How needy,” he commented. “What a needy slut.”
Jeonghan dipped his fingers between your pussy lips, taunting. He let them drag against your clit, brush against your hole. He did nothing other than gather your juices, petting your bare cunt. 
“Please,” you whispered, brow furrowing in desperation. You could see how your stomach heaved from you fighting to catch your breath, trying to steady yourself from the onslaught of torture brought on by your boyfriend. Your thighs were shaking, tightening and releasing with every brush of his fingers. 
“Fine,” he sighed, as if he was being burdened. “I guess I’ll give you my hand.”
Then his fingers were shoving inside of you, all at once. You yelled out, arching back against him, fighting to keep your eyes on your trembling figure in the mirror. Your cunt quivered around his fingers, sucking them in deeper. Jeonghan complied, his smile pressed against your neck as he angled his fingers to reach further inside of you, easily finding that spot in you that had you moaning, thighs hurriedly shutting in an attempt to trap his hand. 
“Fuck,” Jeonghan mumbled. Your eyes went to him in the mirror. His eyes were huge and dark, stuck on the spot where his hand disappeared into your cunt. 
He untucked his thumb from his hand, setting it on the lip of your pussy. He swiped his thumb against you for a moment, hooking his fingers into you and striking your core. 
The sounds made by your cunt were so lewd that you, if you, again, had the presence of mind, would be ashamed. 
Then Jeonghan was moving his thumb, wedging it into your cunt and underneath your hood. He shoved it meanly on your clit before launching a hurried attack against it, his fingers slamming that spot inside of you in time with his thumb. 
Within moments you were sobbing, tilting your head back against his shoulder. Your orgasm tore through you suddenly, causing tears to streak from your eyes and more fluid to gush from your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry through it, helpless as Jeonghan’s hand continued to work at your pussy, his voice filling your fogged mind with sweet little murmurs of affirmation. 
Your heart was beating so loudly that you could barely hear Jeonghan, feeling as though your heart were about to leap from your chest and sprint off. Looking in the mirror you could see the way your chest heaved in an attempt to breathe, the way your entire body sagged against Jeonghan as his hand continually worked within you. 
Finally you shook your head, whining. “Hannie, Hannie.”
Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, gently, he began withdrawing his hand from your cunt. At first your pussy tightened, but ultimately gave up, releasing him. 
He wiped his hand off on the bed, but even then when he settled his arm across your stomach, pressing you close, you could feel the stickiness on his skin from your cunt. Your release leaked from your cunt, your eyes caught on the mirror as you watched the fluid make its way down your crevice, dripping onto the bed. 
Your eyes flicked up in the mirror, locking on his. Jeonghan gave a small, inquisitive tilt of his head. 
You nodded back. 
Jeonghan pressed another kiss to your face, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. Then he was lifting you up and shoving you off onto the bed beside him, a loud gasp of surprise escaping you. 
“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he said, standing up off of the bed. Jeonghan’s hand went to his cock, hissing slightly as he began rubbing at it. “Lay across the width of the bed. Head towards the mirror.”
He rounded the bed as you did as he said, moving slowly, your entire body protesting. Your cunt was fluttering weakly, intrigued by him but so, so sensitive from the two orgasms. 
Jeonghan crawled onto the bed with his knees, looming behind you. He shoved your thighs apart, baring your cunt to him once again. You couldn’t help but bury your face into the blanket, muffling the groan that left you. 
Then there was an acute sting of pain in your ass, and you immediately were clenching up. You raised your head, this time witnessing Jeonghan’s hand descend through the air and slap your ass. 
Pain and heat exploded through you at the contact, and you couldn’t help but weakly curl up in an attempt to move away from him. Jeonghan quickly caught you, both of his hands going to your calves and yanking you flat onto the bed. 
“Where do you think you’re going, little dove?” The nickname, which was always filled with such sweetness and love, seemed to hold none of it. Instead it felt cold, taunting, something used to diminish you. Jeonghan’s hands then went to your hips, lifting them up and off the bed, presenting you for him. “I said to keep your eyes on the mirror, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” you stuttered out, breathless. You watched in the mirror as Jeonghan straightened. One of his hands began kneading at your ass, aggravating the stinging sensation left from his spanking. His other hand disappeared, obscured by your body in the mirror, but you knew he was reaching for his dick. 
“I just need you to hold still like a good little dove,” Jeonghan announced, his eyes looking down between your bodies. “Just need you to be still and let me fuck you like the slut you are, okay? Just be a good tight, warm hole for me.”
You braced your elbows on the bed, getting leverage to help present yourself to him. For a moment you were still, feeling nothing, watching in the mirror as Jeonghan focused on your cunt. 
Then the head of his dick was pressing against your hole, so large and alien compared to the fingers he had prepped you with. You couldn’t help but moan, eyes fighting to stay open. 
Jeonghan slowly breached you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. Your walls stretched around his dick, clenching and fluttering, at odds with how sensitive and overwhelmed your cunt felt from the past two orgasms but how desperate it was to feel his cock. 
“There,” he murmured, smoothing both of his hands over your ass. Jeonghan shifted the last few centimeters, giving you all of his cock. 
You couldn’t help but grind back, a loud sob escaping you. It felt like so much to have him inside. Every single part of your body was honed in on his cock, how it expanded your walls. Your body welcomed the intrusion and fought against it, but in the end you were but Jeonghan’s little dove, caught in his hands. 
Jeonghan moved his grip to your hips, fingernails sinking into your skin. You watched as he moved your hips away, could feel the drag of his cock, which seemed so much more than usual, so much longer and thicker. 
Dumbly you shook your head in protest as he guided his cock out of your cunt. “Hannie, please, please.”
“Quiet,” he commanded, looking at you in the mirror. His black hair was disheveled, his eyes narrowed. You watched as his pale chest heaved with effort to control himself, watched as he brought back his hips. 
Which meant you should’ve been prepared for when he snapped his hips forward, shoving his cock back into the warmth of your cunt. 
But you weren’t. 
You let out a loud shout, falling forward onto the bed. You scrambled against it, trying to straighten yourself and raise back onto your elbows. As soon as you dug your elbows into the bedding, your eyes meeting themselves in the mirror, Jeonghan was withdrawing abruptly from your cunt. 
He set a harsh pace, not allowing your cunt to adjust to his cock further. His fingers dug into your flesh, his cock bullied your core. The loud slaps of his skin hitting yours filled the room, but you could barely hear them over the constant string of moans and sobs that left your throat. 
Your fingers clambered on the sheets, desperate for some kind of grip. Jeonghan refused to let up, the pace burning. You could feel his balls slap against your cunt as he drove into you, his hips jackhammering into you. 
It was frantic, loud, messy. He was a flurry of movement, shoving his cock into you repeatedly. Each thrust filled you to the brim, seemingly reaching all the way to the back of your throat. It was so much, it was so fucking much -- 
“Jeonghan --” You gasped, hips beginning to push back into him. “Feel like -- feel full --”
He said nothing, his face twisted in concentration. Jeonghan’s gasps were quiet, his panting nearly unnoticeable. But you noticed. How could you not? He didn’t light up on his fucking, however out of breath he was, keeping the harsh pace that had your ass already feeling sore. 
“Hannie --” You sobbed, feeling something burning at the corners of your eyes. “Hannie, Hannie, Hannnie --”
Then you felt something gush from your cunt, as if all of your juices had released at once. Immediately you were squealing, falling down flat on the bed. 
Jeonghan cursed loudly, laying down across your back. The change in position had his dick reaching further, had you crying, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and getting in your mouth. 
Then he rammed into your cunt twice more, loud moans pouring from his lips. His released shot into you, the warm fluid squirting deep into your cunt and filling you. Jeonghan came thrice like that, more spurts of cum forcing its way out of his dick and finding home in your warm, abused cunt. 
Jeonghan slumped against your back, one of his hands shooting out to keep your body from falling flat. His chest heaved against you, the arm around you moving down to your cunt. 
“You gotta cum,” he threatened, hand moving to your clit. You sobbed, shaking your head against the blankets. “Yes, you do. You looked away from the mirror, little dove. This is your punishment.”
Your body jumped in his hold as his hand worked your clit, moving sharply and precisely against you. It probably took only a minute to get another orgasm ripping through you, but in your exhausted mind it felt only like a second. 
Then you were collapsing against the bed, his body molding into yours. You panted into the blanket, taking loud, desperate gasps to try and catch your breath. 
Neither of you spoke, fighting to breathe. Jeonghan continued to lay on top of you, his dick still inside of you. When you shifted you could feel his cum ooze from your cunt, and that was enough to get you out of your post-sex haze.
“Jeonghan,” you moaned, reaching back to shove weakly at his hip. Jeonghan groaned into your back. “I’m so wet ‘n sticky. Gotta clean me up.”
“Not my fault,” he mumbled, mouth warm against your skin. “You’re the one that squirted all over me.”
You froze, body clenching, including your cunt. A twinge of discomfort and pain shot through you at this, and you ignored Jeonghan’s little groans of disapproval as you shoved him off of you. 
His dick flopped out of your cunt easily, his cum leaking freely from your hole and mixing with your own release. You slowly, tentatively, reached back to feel the mixture. 
“This is disgusting,” you mumbled, pouting. 
“It’s wonderful,” Jeonghan laughed, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. “Can’t believe you squirted.”
“Didn’t know I could,” you returned, brow furrowed. You moved to roll onto your stomach but immediately got met with a sharp pain that shot through you, your muscles protesting. 
Jeonghan’s hands went to your body, stilling you. “Don’t move. You’ll be sore after all that, little dove. I’ll get a wet cloth and be right back.”
You nodded, flopping back down on the bed. You felt the bed shift as Jeonghan got off, the man stumbling a little. You waited for him to round the bed, to make for the bathroom. When he didn’t you shifted, looking over your shoulder.
Jeonghan was staring at your cunt, eyes intent on the spot. 
“Yoon Jeonghan!” You shrieked, kicking out. He laughed, startled from his staring. “Stop that!”
“Can’t help it,” he said, the evil little giggles escaping from his mouth so at odds with the filth that had left him twenty minutes before. “You look so good covered in my cum, sweetheart.”
“Take a picture,” you muttered, sending him a pout. “It’ll last longer.”
Jeonghan looked at you, eyes wide. “Can I? Please? I’ll lock it away and won’t let anyone ever look at it.”
You groaned, turning and pressing your face into the blanket. It was soaked from the combination of your tears and drool. “Fine. But you have to send it to me.”
Jeonghan scrambled around the bed, practically sprinting to get to his jacket. He nearly ripped it from the chair it hung on, hurriedly grabbing his phone. 
You hummed, tapping your foot against the bed as Jeonghan returned. One of his hands went to your thigh, spreading them back out and revealing your thoroughly fucked cunt. You heard his camera shutter go off. 
Then his hand was moving to your cunt. You let out a loud noise from overstimulation as he peeled apart your pussy lips, getting a better shot of the mixture. 
“There,” he said, satisfied. “Absolutely perfect.”
He pressed a kiss to your ass before moving back off the bed. You watched as your boyfriend left the room, admiring the pictures. Your eyes couldn’t help but travel down to his ass, watching it flex as he walked away. 
Jeonghan returned a minute later, a wash rag in one hand. He threw his phone onto the bed, moving back down your body. Gently, as to not further abuse your sore cunt, Jeonghan began cleaning. He carefully spooned his cum from your hole, ran the rag over your cunt. 
The action, no matter how gentle he meant it to be, had your toes curling and your body attempting to wiggle away in protest. Jeonghan hushed you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your hip. “I’m sorry, baby. But we can’t have you laying in cum all night.”
“I know,” you whined. “Hurts though. I’m sore.”
Jeonghan whined back, and you could see him mimicking your pout from the mirror. “I know. Poor darling, so thoroughly fucked by her boyfriend”
Realization shot through you at his words, quickly followed by mortification. You let out a little cry, digging your head into the blanket. Jeonghan, horrified that he had accidentally hurt you, immediately launched himself down the length of the bed. His hands went to your shoulders, tugging you, chanting your name.
You let Jeonghan move you, eyes wide and horrified. Jeonghan pressed down on you, hands cradling your cheeks and lips brushing over the spot between your brows.”Y/n! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital? Do I need to call your mom?”
You shook your head, your hands reaching up to still his face. “Jeonghan,” you began, voice high with hysteria, “how are we ever supposed to face Seungcheol after this?”
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viennakarma · 11 days
Text
My dearest friend and enemy
Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.8k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]
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You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.
You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.
“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.
“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.
The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.
He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.
“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.
After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.
“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”
“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.
“Are you sure?” You asked again.
“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.
“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.
“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”
“You know?” You whispered.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”
You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.
From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.
You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.
That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.
“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.
You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.
The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.
“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”
You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.
“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”
“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.
“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”
He laughed it off.
Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 
“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.
“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.
“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”
“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 
At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.
“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.
“Like to what?” He frowned.
“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.
Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.
“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”
“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”
He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.
“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.
“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.
You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.
“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.
“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”
A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.
“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.
“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.
“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.
Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.
You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.
“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.
“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”
“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”
That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.
Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 
You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.
He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.
“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”
He only laughed at your happy ramble.
You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.
“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.
“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 
Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.
“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.
“Hm?”
“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.
“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.
“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.
“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”
You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.
“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”
Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.
The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.
“Nano!” You hugged him.
“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.
You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.
Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.
“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.
“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.
“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”
You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.
When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.
During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.
Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.
“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.
And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.
So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.
That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.
He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.
“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.
“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.
“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.
Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.
That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.
You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.
“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.
“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.
“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”
It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.
“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.
“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.
“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.
“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.
When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.
“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.
“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.
“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.
“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.
After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.
When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.
Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.
When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.
He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.
Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.
You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.
“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.
“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.
“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”
The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.
“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”
“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”
His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.
“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.
“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.
After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.
“Nena…”
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.
“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.
“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”
“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”
You walked past him, leaving at once.
That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.
“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.
He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.
“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.
“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”
Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.
He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.
“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”
His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.
“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.
You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 
Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.
You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.
“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”
You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.
“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 
“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”
“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.
You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.
Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.
The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.
All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.
Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.
“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”
You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.
“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.
“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.
“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.
There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.
When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.
“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.
“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”
“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.
You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 
“Fernando, please-”
“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.
“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.
You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.
Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.
“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.
“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”
You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.
“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.
“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.
“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.
Shame and jealousy burned inside you.
He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.
You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.
“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”
You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.
The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.
“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.
“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”
“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.
“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.
“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.
Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.
You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.
“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.
“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”
You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.
It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.
“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.
“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.
“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”
“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.
“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”
“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.
“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.
“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.
“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”
“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”
“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”
“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.
“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.
You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.
“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.
“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.
“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.
“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.
“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”
You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.
You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.
“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”
Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.
They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.
“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.
“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.
“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”
“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”
“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”
So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.
You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.
You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.
It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.
So you had to prove Fernando wrong.
NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!
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rynwritesreid · 3 months
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A night to remember-Spencer Reid
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A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(
Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.
Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.
 
He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”
 
Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.
 
Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.
 
But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.
 
One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.
 
As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."
 
He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.
 
"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
 
Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.
 
"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"
 
You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.
 
It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.
 
"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."
 
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.
 
“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.
 
Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.
 
As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.
 
"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"
 
You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.
 
"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."
 
He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."
 
As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.
 
After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.
 
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."
 
He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.
 
With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.
 
You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.
 
"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.
 
You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.
 
"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
 
Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.
 
He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
 
You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.
 
With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.
 
As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.
 
"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.
 
You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.
 
"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."
 
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.
 
"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.
 
You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.
 
He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.
 
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
 
His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
 
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.
 
He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.
 
He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.
 
"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”
 
You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.
 
"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.
 
You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.
 
Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."
 
He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
 
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently.
 
"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
 
"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.
 
As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.
 
He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.
Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
 
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."
 
With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.
 
You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.
 
He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.
 
He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.
 
"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."
 
His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.
 
He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.
 
Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."
 
You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.
 
He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
 
As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.
 
Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.
 
You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.
 
"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.
 
You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.
 
"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.
 
With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
 
As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.
 
Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.
 
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.
 
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."
 
You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.
 
"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.
 
As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.
 
“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.
 
Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.
 
Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.
 
"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.
 
Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.
 
“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
 
You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.
 
Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”
 
He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.
 
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.
 
“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."
 
His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.
 
And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
 
“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”
Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.
 
“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”
 
You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.
 
Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.
 
"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"
 
He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.
 
You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.
 
"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.
 
He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.
 
"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."
 
He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."
 
Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.
 
"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."
 
He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.
 
"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."
 
Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."
 
He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.
 
"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."
 
He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”
 
With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.
 
"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."
 
Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."
 
He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."
 
And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
 
"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."
 
He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.
 
But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”
 
You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.
 
"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."
 
He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.
 
"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."
 
He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”
 
You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.
 
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”
 
He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.
 
"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."
 
He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"
 
You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.
 
"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."
 
You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."
 
He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"
 
With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.
 
"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”
 
And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.
 
"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."
 
You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.
 
As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.
 
Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."
 
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.
 
“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.
 
You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.
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920 notes · View notes
roosterr · 2 months
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i've known war
john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg
requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.
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it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.
the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.
it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.
"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"
he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."
you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."
he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"
"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.
"oh, you're on." 
perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.
it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.
before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.
he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.
quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?
he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.
he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.
something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.
it's a pair of id tags.
he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.
no. you can't be gone.
he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–
he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–
no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–
a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.
ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.
the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.
"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"
"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."
"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?
ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."
"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"
he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…
it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.
"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.
it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.
he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.
the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.
words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.
the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.
price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:
"...one k.i.a."
the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.
johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.
the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.
because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.
there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 
despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.
"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.
the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.
kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.
with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.
"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."
kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."
the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.
his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.
the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.
that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.
he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.
once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.
he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.
it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.
six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.
he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.
it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.
somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.
one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.
johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.
it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.
the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 
when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.
it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.
it's six more months before anything changes.
in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.
his fingers tighten around your tags.
"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.
they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.
the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.
"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.
their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.
the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.
ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.
there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.
"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.
"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.
"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."
"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."
back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.
the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.
"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."
johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.
the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.
"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.
their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.
"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.
"something very… precious to you."
the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 
it's…
it's you.
you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.
johnny's sure his heart stops.
you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…
you're alive.
"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?
how long have you been waiting for him?
he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.
the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.
"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."
the video cuts to black.
the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.
"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.
she hums distractedly. "working on it."
their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.
"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.
"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."
he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.
have you given up hope of them finding you?
"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.
johnny can only nod. 
his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.
"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."
"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.
"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.
simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."
"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."
the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.
"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"
"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.
"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.
the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.
he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."
the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.
price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."
a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."
laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."
"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.
laswell and price share a look.
"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."
the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."
they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.
there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.
he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.
the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.
the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.
the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.
bring you home, or don't come back.
they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.
"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"
his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.
soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.
another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.
gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.
one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.
a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.
hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.
soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.
price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."
his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.
"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.
"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.
gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."
johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.
he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"
johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.
it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.
his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.
johnny pulls the trigger again.
and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.
a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.
"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.
there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.
neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.
as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?
johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.
price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 
"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.
he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.
the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.
gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"
a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.
it's you.
curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…
it's really you.
johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.
"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"
his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.
"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.
johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."
"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.
"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"
with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.
"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"
"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."
the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.
eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.
"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"
johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.
it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.
the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.
they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.
a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.
there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.
when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.
no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.
he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.
back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.
for once, he doesn't dream of you.
there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.
simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.
"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.
"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."
johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"
before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.
"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."
johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.
as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.
"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"
"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.
johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?
he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.
the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.
time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.
"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"
your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.
"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"
"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.
"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"
"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.
it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.
your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.
you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"
"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."
your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.
he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.
"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.
he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."
your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.
"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.
"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.
you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"
"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."
his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.
"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.
"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."
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runnning-outof-time · 9 months
Text
Is That How You Remember It? | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: (Y/N) finds some discrepancies in the story of how they first met that Tommy tells their children…so she decides to give her own rendition of the story.
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff and one (1) bad word
Word Count: 2671
A/N: I absolutely loved writing this request! It was so fun to cococt backstories for Tommy and his bride, but of course I didn’t do it alone. Thanks so much to @mrs-bellingham and this lovely anon who answered my call to help and gave me amazing ideas of how they first met! I couldn’t have written this story this well without you. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"What are we doing in here, eh?" Tommy asked his two daughters as he entered the front sitting room, where some of their toys were also stored.
"Daddy!" the two little girls exclaimed in unison, rising from the floor so that they could run over to him for a hug. Tommy crouched down as they stopped in front of him, giving each of them a hug.
"We're playing family!" Anna, the six year old answered, a beaming smile on her face.
"Yeah! And Anna let me be the mummy this time!" Josephine, the four year old, chimed in, her smile matching her sister's.
"I'm practicing taking turns," Anna said proudly and Tommy nodded, happy that his daughter was trying to do what he and (Y/N) had advised her to. Too many needless arguments had happened over who got to be the mummy of the family every time this game was played.
"Where is your mum?" Tommy asked then, knowing that at least one of the girls had to have known where (Y/N) was at.
"Mummy's upstairs with Theo," Josephine answered, mentioning their baby brother.
"She's trying to get him to sleep, and she said that we don't have to today because we're playing nicely," Anna informed him of what their mother had said.
"We're big girls now!" Josephine grinned.
"You most certainly are," Tommy nodded, smiling at his children.
"Can you come play with us, daddy?" Anna asked, showing him the best puppy dog pout that she could pull.
He thought about her proposal for a moment. There were surely piles of papers stacked upon his desk, waiting for him to read through. But he'd just gotten home for the office, where he'd spent the most of his morning and early afternoon working nonstop on things that needed to be completed. Work could wait, he decided...he needed to spend some time with his family.
"Daddy?" Josephine asked, the young child getting impatient with the waiting.
"I'll play with you," he nodded, answering both of the girls' questions, making them squeal in response before they each grabbed one of his hands and pulled him to where they'd been playing with their dolls.
Tommy sat on the floor with them, accepting the doll they offered and fell right into playing the game they'd been engaged in before he came home. The girls loved that he got so invested in the game, even making voices for the several dolls they'd handed him along the way. He was always all of the other characters that their two favorite dolls would meet.
They played and played, losing track of time before the girls started bickering with each other, fighting over who got to do what and be the hero of the story they were acting out. Those creative differences ended with the girls sitting on the couch with Tommy in the middle so that they could have some space from each other.
"Can you tell us a story, daddy?" Anna asked as she got comfortable tucked into her father's side.
"What story do you want?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at her.
"Tell the story of how you met mumma!" Josephine exclaimed, a wide smile on her face.
"You want to hear that?" Tommy checked, looking between both of the girls, who were nodding their heads profusely. "Ok," he nodded, taking a deep breath as he got himself ready to recount how he met his lovely wife, (Y/N).
Both of the girls got comfortable, Josephine hugging onto one of the couch's pillows and Anna staying tucked into Tommy's side with her head resting on his bicep.
"I met your mum when I was going to eat dinner at a restaurant..." he started off, glancing between his daughters again to see that they were still interested in where the story was going to go.
"Were you there with anyone?" Anna interjected with a question.
"Yeah, was uncle Arthur with you?" Josephine followed with her own.
Tommy chuckled, knowing how this story was going to be told. The girls always seemed to turn certain storytimes into a mini question and answer session. He didn't mind it though...he always thought of it as them being intrigued in the story he was telling. "No, I was there by myself. I had wanted to get some food. But then I saw your mum before I could sit down at one of the empty tables. She was sitting by herself so I walked over to her and introduced myself to her..."
"Was it love at first sight?" Anna asked, a wide smile on her face.
"I'd say it was for me," Tommy admitted, not caring about sounding like a softy in front of his girls.
"That's so sweet, daddy!" Anna exclaimed, hugging onto his arm.
"Your mum was beautiful," Tommy laughed slightly to himself as he admitted it, "and she looked sad sitting by herself, so I slid into the empty chair and told her 'we'd better not let this dinner go to waste' after asking her what the problem was," he recounted more of the memory.
"And what did mummy say?" Josephine eagerly asked for more details.
"She told me that she was supposed to meet another boy, but that boy didn't show up and she was sad because of it."
"Well I'm happy that you're my daddy instead of that boy...he doesn't sound nice because he was mean to mummy," Anna stated, a scowl now present on her face.
"I'm happy that boy wasn't there either, because I wouldn't have met your mother had she not been sitting by herself," Tommy agreed with her daughter, his smile returning.
"Is that how you remember it?" (Y/N)'s voice came from the archway to the room, making the three sitting on the couch turn to see her leaning against the wall.
"Mummy!" Josephine exclaimed the second she noticed who was speaking, "mummy come sit over here! Daddy's telling us the story of how you met!"
Tommy swallowed as his eyes connected with his wife's. He could tell by the grin on her face that she wasn't going to let the recounting of his story stand as the first time they met.
"Daddy's telling you a story of how we met, but it wasn't the first time we met," (Y/N) stated as she walked over to where her family was sitting.
"What do you mean?" Anna asked, a perplexed expression present on her face as she watched her mum sit down on the chair situated next to the couch.
"The dinner was the second time your dad and I met," she explained, smiling as Josephine slid off of the couch and clambered up onto her lap. "I could tell you of the first time we met," she added, her smile turning into a mischievous grin.
"Love..." Tommy trailed off in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows as his eyes connected with hers. Seeing this only made (Y/N)'s grin grow, and he sighed at the sight of it, knowing that there was no changing her mind now.
"Tell us, mummy!" Anna exclaimed, excitement present in her voice as Josephine added her own agreement to her big sister's words.
(Y/N) sent Tommy a smug grin, one that he rolled his eyes at, before she began telling the story, "so when your daddy and I were younger, for one summer we both worked at the same, big property that had bunches of horses on it. While your daddy was out with the horses, I was helping the lady of the house with whatever she needed done..."
"Like how Miss Jane and Miss Bea help out here?" Anna chimed into the story with a curious question, mentioning the two, younger maids whose main jobs were to make sure that Arrow House was kept tidy.
"Yes, much like what they do," (Y/N) nodded before continuing with her story, "the man of the house used to allow his workers access to the stables so that they could ride the horses on certain evenings...he was a very kind man, one who many enjoyed working for..."
Tommy interjected into the story then with a snort, making (Y/N)'s eyes find him. She knew he was scoffing at her remembrance of their boss, but she saw nothing wrong in the man. Tommy, of course, had a different type of relationship with him, one that included him getting thrown off of the estate along with another worker before the summer was finished because he fought said worker due to him mistreating the horses. The girls wouldn't hear that part of the story as well.
"This night happened to be the first that I went to. Some of the other ladies who worked with me in the house got me to come out and join the other staff for the evening. It turns out they were using the horses to have impromptu races, and..."
"Daddy was one of the racers on the horses?" Josephine finished off her mother's sentence, looking up at (Y/N) with complete awe.
(Y/N) laughed softly at her daughter's eagerness to learn more before she nodded her head, "yes, dad was one of the riders."
"And that's how you met?" Anna asked, a similar awestruck expression on her face. She shared her father's love for horses, so to hear that the whimsical beasts were involved in her parents' meeting made her extremely excited.
"Yes..."
"And that's the end of the story, my loves," Tommy cut (Y/N) off before she could finish her sentence, starting to stand from the couch.
"Oh, not quite," (Y/N) said before he could get very far, her grin growing as she re-gained the attention of the children.
"What else happened, mummy?" Josephine asked for the details.
"Yeah, did daddy pull you onto the horse and you went for a ride together?" Anna jumped in with a question of her own, stars practically present in her eyes now.
"He didn't exactly pull me onto the horse..." (Y/N) trailed off, suppressing a giggle as she looked over to Tommy, who now had a deadpan expression on his face. She was now going to tell the part that he wished he could erase from time. "Your dad was racing one of the other workers and the race finished super closely. He stopped his horse right next to where I was standing and sent me a smile...I didn't know who he was, so I just smiled back at him, but I did think that he was cute..."
"Eww!!!" both of the girls exclaimed in unison at their mother's comment.
"Boys have cooties, mummy!" Anna exclaimed with a look of disgust present on her face.
"Yeah, but daddy doesn't have cooties, Anna...just boys that we don't know have cooties," Josephine jumped in, applying her four year old logic to the situation.
"You're absolutely right, Josie," Tommy agreed with his daughter, a proud grin on his face. What he'd been telling her was working. If he could get his way, she wouldn't be marrying until she was thirty...both of his girls wouldn't for that matter; they were his everything and he was going to protect them with his life. Them along with their mother and younger brother.
"Can you keep telling the story, mummy?" Anna asked, wanting to hear more of how her parents first met, "was daddy really nice to you?"
"Well he didn't exactly get the chance to talk to me..." (Y/N) trailed off again, stifling more giggles and glancing at Tommy before continuing, "his foot got stuck in the stirrup when he went to get off the horse and he fell right into the puddle of mud in front of me," she told the girls of their father's embarrassing moment, making them shriek with laughter.
"That's cause I was only used to riding bloody bareback until then," Tommy grumbled, a pout on his face.
"You got all covered in mud, daddy, didn't you?!" Anna excitedly asked, turning to look at Tommy for his input.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold his frown, and he tipped his head to each side as a smile formed on his face. He was truly buying time until he could cope with his bruised ego before facing the little girls’ teasing. "I wasn't that covered...your mum still knew who I was," he answered them, defending his pride.
"I had to ask someone who you were," (Y/N) admitted with a grin, enjoying the grilling that he was getting from his own two kids. Tommy shot her a playful glare, one that dissolved into a grin seconds later. Sure, it was embarrassing at the time, but looking back on it made him realize how funny the situation actually was. "But then you saved me the next time you saw me at the restaurant, and it was all history from there," she brought them back to the original story that Tommy had told them, her teasing grin softening into a fond smile.
"Mummy, that's such a cute story," Josephine said once the family's laughter had subsided. She had the most adorable look on her face, one that warmed (Y/N)'s heart immediately.
"It is, isn't it?" she agreed with her daughter before looking over at Tommy again.
Tommy was already in bed, reading over the day's newspaper, when (Y/N) entered the master bedroom from the attached bath. "Ready for bed?" he asked her, pulling the glasses off of the bridge of his nose as he admired her body that was now covered in a silk slip.
"I am," she nodded, sending him a smile as she moved to her side of the bed and pulled the covers back so that she could climb in under them.
Tommy set the newspaper and glasses down on his nightstand before he slid down lower on the bed.
"The girls really seemed to enjoy that story today," (Y/N) remarked as she scooted over to her husband's side.
Tommy allowed her to, slipping his arm underneath her so that he could pull her body closer to his. "They did," he agreed with her statement, thinking back to the excited looks on both of the girls' faces. Silence fell between them then as they settled in for sleep. "I won that fuckin' race," Tommy remarked out of nowhere, the sound of his voice making it apparent that that part of the story had been on his mind for some time.
(Y/N) sat up slightly on the bed so that she'd be able to see him. The second she looked at his face, her neutral expression cracked and she erupted into a fit of giggles. Tommy sent her a look that asked 'what's so funny?', which made her try to curtail her laughter so that she could answer him. "If telling yourself that'll help your ego, love, keep on with it," she said, patting him on the chest as her laughter kicked up again.
Tommy rolled his eyes at his wife's antics, shaking his head slightly as he let her have her moment. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her. Hearing that story reminded him of how unbelievably lucky he was to have stumbled upon her at the restaurant a few months after his embarrassing first attempt to get to know her. "I still got you in the end, didn't I?" he asked her, his words making her focus on him again.
"You did," she grinned, leaning in to kiss him.
"Then I've won more than that race had to offer," he mumbled against her lips before kissing them again. His words made her giggle, her laughter getting trapped as she continued kissing him.
They fell asleep with smiles on their faces that night, slipping into the bliss that surrounded both the memories of their first meeting, and the anticipation of making many more memories together.
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upat4amwiththemoon · 4 days
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Okay AN IDEA !
If you like it you can use it, if it's not something you wanna write that's perfectly fine too !!
So the request is for wandanat x daughter reader
R is secretly spider girl, only Tony stark knows because he's the one who got her the spider suit. R knows her moms would absolutely be against it, always telling her to stay away from that "spider girl" (not knowing it's actually their daughter. Yes like aunt May does in Spiderman : home coming :3)
So let's say R gets into trouble after trying to fight a villain way too strong compared to her and ends up being saved by wanda herself. Wanda finds out at this moment that the spider girl is her daughter and you can choose how the story goes from there
💕
(your favorite mf who sent 8678 request)
Spider-Girl
Summary: Is it a plane? Is it the Friendly neighborhood Spider-Girl? Sort of, it’s a girl who doesn’t listen to her moms!
Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader
Warnings: violence
Word count: 2111
a/n: there surely are words written down here
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
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A video of the Spider-Girl stopping bank robbers is shown on the evening news. Y/N stares at the television screen as she eats with her moms, at times glancing at them to see if they’re paying attention to the news.
Natasha shuts off the television with a sigh, throwing the remote to the couch afterwards. Y/N turns to look at her scrunched brows and pursed lips. “If you ever see that Spider-Girl, stay away from her, okay? We don’t want you getting dragged into anything she does.” Her mother mumbles while eating.
Y/N rolls her eyes, though she hides it from her mom. “Mhm.”
“We’re serious about this, Y/N.” Wanda sets her cutlery down, looking at her daughter. “It’s dangerous and we don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I know,” she pushes her plate away, still half full, “you think I can’t handle myself.” Her voice is full of defiance as she mumbles.
The two women sigh as they glance at each other and their daughter, who is keeping her eyes away from them. This isn’t the first time conversations like this have come up.
“It’s not that we think you’re incapable,” Natasha raises her brows as Wanda starts speaking, which makes her wife give her a subtle slap to the arm, “we’re afraid that the bad guys will hit you twice as hard when they realize whose daughter you are.”
“Mhm.” Is all the answer her mothers get before she excuses herself from the dining table and makes her way to her bedroom.
As Y/N slams the door shut, she locks it and moves the curtains in front of her single window. Sitting down to her bed, she closes her eyes and takes some deep breath, calming down her mind. She is aware her mother would never read her mine without permission, unless absolutely necessary, but Y/N likes to make sure there are no loose ends.
Her mind clears from any unwanted thoughts—thanks to Natasha making her meditate with her since she was a kid—and a smile appears on her face. Y/N walks over to her wardrobe, her steps light as she opens it and starts digging through the mess of things inside. She finds the back wall of the wardrobe and moves it out of her way, taking her suit out of its hiding place.
She slips on her Spider-Girl suit, grinning from ear to ear at the empowering feeling the suit gives her. This is what she wants to do. This is her life.
Pressing her ear against the chilly wooden door, listening to the quiet sound of a laugh track coming from the television. Her mom won’t come bother her when they think she is upset. She has plenty of time to fight crime.
Y/N opens her window and climbs out of it, the palms of her suit sticking to the walls of her home as she makes her way to the roof. She shivers as the wind picks up, but she doesn’t let it bother her.
The homemade web shoots out of the web shooter and she flies towards the city centre, where the evening bustle is starting to wake up. She props herself on top of a building, it’s high enough to be hidden from the people, but still low enough to keep an eye on the streets.
After a few minutes of surveilling the area, a bright light flashes just outside the city, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Y/N grins and makes her way to the smoke, practically flying over the buildings as she glides in the air with the web wings of her suit.
It only takes her around 15 minutes to get near the site. She lands on top of an industrial building, staying low as her eyes adjust to the lack of bright city lights.
Y/N can quickly figure out where the light came from. There is a machine on an otherwise unoccupied patch of land between all the abandoned looking buildings. The machine is big, but it looks crude, handmade. She frowns, not feeling good about any of this. It’s still slightly smoking when two men wearing safety gear finally step onto her line of sight.
She tries to hear what they’re talking about, but they’re too quiet even with her heightened sense of hearing. Her eyes scan over the near area, trying to calculate how safe she’d be if she made herself known to them. Not seeing anything on top of the two men and the machine, she starts quietly crawling closer, keeping a close eye to the men’s hands.
Suddenly, a buzzing sensation fills her mind. She snaps her head to the direction her spidey senses guide her, and even though she is fast, it’s not enough. A third man has climbed onto the roof. He is holding a weapon Y/N doesn’t recognize and shoots it before she is able to react.
A bolt of electricity flies out of the gun-like weapon. It hits Y/N right on her side, making her lose her grip and fall down from the building, all the way to the ground. A small cloud of dust puffs out from the impact.
With a groan, Y/N opens her eyes, seeing the two men standing over her with grins on their faces. “Well, well, well,” one of them chuckles, “what do we have here?” His voice is low and raspy, the smoked a pack a day for years kind of voice.
She lets out a quiet growl-like noise, which clearly doesn’t intimidate the men. “What’s she supposed to be?” The other man mumbles, his head tilting from side to side as he studies Y/N’s suit. “Some kind of bug, eh?”
Using the moment to her advantage, she pushes herself on her feet with a move Natasha taught her, webbing one of the men to the face and kicking the other’s knee. The men let out surprised noises, stumbling away from Y/N, which gives her a slight advantage as she starts fighting them.
She does well for a while, at least when there’s only two of them fighting her, but slowly she starts hearing noises growing louder, like running.
Just as she knocks one of the men unconscious and stick the other to a wall with her web, a group of people with the man who shot her in front arrive. “Shit.” Y/N pants, already having used a lot of energy. The man raises his weapon, shooting an electric bolt again.
Y/N lets out a shout as the bolt of energy hits her square in the chest. She flies a few meters back, landing on her back with a grunt. Her hand flies up to her mask, quickly whispering, “SOS,” before she stands back up.
“The Avengers have been notified.” A robotic female voice speaks up.
Mumbling out a quiet thanks to her artificial intelligence helper, Y/N lunges towards the men again. She feels as if part of her strength is back, now that she knows Tony is coming, but reality hits her like a brick wall once an electric beam hits her.
“I’m getting tired of this.” Y/N grumbles, shooting webs to one of the weapons hitting her.
She webs herself into the air, using the altitude as an advantage against the men. While one of the men is still busy with getting the web out of his gun, Y/N swings down, feet first, on one man’s head.
The impact makes a nasty cracking sound, one that makes Y/N cringe. “Sorry!” She lands on the ground, on her feet, while the man falls on his back, unconscious, hopefully. Her spider senses active, and this time she has enough time to web away another weapon pointed at her. What she doesn’t notice is a new group of men on top of a building pushing down a cell tower.
“Take that!” Y/N mumbles to herself, making up sound effects as she shoots her webs, trapping a man to the ground.
A crashing sound gets her attention. She looks up into the sky, where the cell tower is falling down right towards her. She goes to shoot out a web, but nothing comes out of her suit. She lets out an ear shattering scream when the metallic tower drops right on top of her.
Tears are brimming her eyes as she heaves, trapped under the structure. Her vision is blurred and she can taste blood. The men around her look pleased, ready to end it, until one of them flies away.
The others start looking around, shooting at the smallest movements and noises, but one by one they get either flown away or shocked unconscious.
Y/N recognizes the familiar red wisps of magic in the air, and the small widow bites flying. She lets out quiet curses as she starts pushing herself up, using all of her strength to push the structure off of her.
“Let me help you with that.” Wanda lands in front of her, easily lifting the cell tower with her magic while Natasha punches the last man standing unconscious. “Are you alright?” She helps Y/N up, letting her lean on her for support.
Y/N nods, not daring to speak. She knows her mother would recognize her voice. “You got hurt pretty bad. We could help patch you up.” Natasha states as she walks over to them after letting Tony know someone could come collect the men now.
Y/N shakes her head, her eyes wide, though the two women can’t see it. She steps away from Wanda’s hold, giving them finger guns before going to web herself away from the situation. “Shit!” She grumbles as nothing happens.
Wanda frowns. She flicks her wrist, causing the mask on Y/N’s face to fly away. “Y/N!”
Gasping, Y/N looks at her moms with wide eyes. “I can explain! It’s not what it looks like.” She holds out her hands.
“It looks like you sneaked out to fight bad guys on your own,” Natasha’s hands are crossed over her chest, “and you didn’t tell us you’re Spider-Girl.”
“Well-“ Y/N opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, “that’s.. that’s it.” She mumbles, avoiding looking at her moms. They’re angry, so very angry.
“What in the world were you thinking?” Wanda scolds, though concern clearly slips through her angry tone. She walks over to Y/N and starts looking at the wounds she has. “This could’ve ended up so much worse. Do you understand that?”
“Yes..”
“How long have you been doing this?” Natasha walks over as well, wrapping her arm around Y/N’s waist so she could lean on her.
Y/N has a sheepish smile on her face, “as long as you’ve seen Spider-Girl on the television.” They start walking towards Natasha’s car.
Letting out a quiet huff, Wanda shakes her head. “You’re so lucky I’m more worried about your health right now.” She gives Y/N a pointed look, a look that says you’re in so much trouble. “But you better believe we are going to take that suit away and ground you until you’re 30, do you hear me? You will never leave the house again.”
Natasha opens the back door for Y/N, helping her in before getting in herself, while Wanda gets into the driver’s seat. “Who gave you the suit?”
“Tony.” Y/N says quickly. She’ll happily put some of the blame on someone else than herself.
“Oh, I’m going to kill him.” Wanda states from the front of the car.
“I’ll help you.” Natasha mumbles, pulling Y/N closer as she starts to look over her wounds. “You know Wanda is right, yeah? Once you’ve healed up properly we will talk about consequences. And you can never do this again, never ever.” Her hands are on her daughter’s cheeks to hold eye contact, she wants to make sure Y/N is really hearing her.
She nods. She understands this was a close call, she has never gotten this hurt before, but Y/N doesn’t see it as a reason to completely stop. She can get better.
Natasha pulls her close, kissing the side of her head gently. “At least not before you train with us.” She whispers, giving her a small wink before going back to acting as if she never said anything.
Y/N can’t help but let a grin grow on her face. She looks down at her lap to hide it from Wanda, who keeps glancing at her from the rear view mirror.
She’ll never stop being Spider-Girl.
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naturesqueen23 · 1 month
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A Second Chance PT 8
Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.
Tags for this chapter: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, FLUFF, Vulgar language, Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader, Brief signs of domestic violence 10.2k words
(I want to start off by saying I'M SO SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG POOKIES. Listen school started back up for me and your girl trying to get her degree so bear with me, please🙇🏽‍♀️ But hopefully, the long chapter should make up for it idk about the ending tho...like I said ik y'all are going to hate me for it LMAO. BUT THANK YOU ALL FOR CHECKING IN AND WAITING FOR ME!!!!!
Enjoy loves<333
P.s Just in case you missed it I did change my mind yes there will be smut Mwah<3)
******* This icon will signify the start of the brief domestic violence situation. Please when you see it skip over it if you don't want to read it. I want to warn you guys in advance. Thank You.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
You begin to follow Miguel as he brings the last of the gifts to the car. He's been…silent since his chat with Lyla. You don't know what was said but whatever it was left him angry.
You decide it's best to not try and make conversation in the car so you sit in silence all the way home. When you reach your apartment he requests that you stay inside while he brings in the gifts. Going to your bedroom you begin to get undressed changing into a nightgown and throwing on O’Hara's sweater so you aren't practically half naked. You watch him quietly as he brings the rest of the gifts inside.
You walk over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Miguel hey is everything ok?"
“I'm fine, do you wanna unpack any of this stuff now or are you going to wait” You shake your head. “No, I still have to paint her nursery so maybe in like a week or two”
“Let me know when you do cause you shouldn't be handling paint” He gives you a lingering look before walking away and making his way to the door. You quickly walk behind him managing to grab onto his wrist before he has the chance to twist the knob.
“You know you can talk to me about anything right?” He slowly nods his head.
“Listen I gotta go” As he opens the door you watch as he turns around stopping to look at you. He stares at you for what seems like forever before you finally build up the courage to place your hand on his face. Slowly closing the distance between the two of you you pause as you stare into his eyes
“I know that some of your stress is my fault so please if there's anything that I can do to help you then just say the word and I can-” You watch as he begins to shake his head. “Stop it”
“No please just hear me out i-if you need help trying to find him or anything I'm not sure if I'll be of much help but there has to be something that I can do right? If you need anything from me then….I’m here” You pause taking another step closer to him your stomach now touching his. You gently begin to rub your thumb across the strings of his face mask for extra support. “If you need to tell me anything and I mean anything then I’ll listen, trust me I will” He slowly nods his head because, of course, he has his sunglasses on so you can't even try to decipher what he's feeling right now.
“I have to go” You sigh when you feel his hand on top of yours and he slowly removes it from his face. You take a step back and give him a small wave before he walks down the hallway and disappears from your line of view.
Slowly retreating back inside the house you decide to open a pack of pampers and fill up the first drawer in the dresser that's in her nursery. Then you decide to fill up the second drawer with some of the clothes that you brought her. You know you just said you wanted to wait but this was something that you could do yourself. You stare at the clothes fondly before rubbing your stomach. You can't believe that she’s going to be here soon. It feels like it was only yesterday your bump was beginning to show and now you’re about to have your first baby. You just hope that you’ll be able to give her a great childhood and give her all the love you can possibly give. Just without your ex getting in the way.
•°~°•
Miguel returns to HQ feeling furious. If he's going to keep you safe he can't just sit around and wait for that man to find you. He has to do something about this and like hell he's going to let you get taken away. Canon event or not there has to be something that he can do. Right?
He's been standing here staring at the screens for the past 3 hours. There has to be something that can lead him to your ex there have to-
Fucking hell can how can he be so stupid.
He uses his web to spring up to his office using the platform. He has to fight the urge not to rip open his bag. Practically throwing out the contents of his bag as soon as he has it in his hand he begins looking up the location on the watch. How the hell did he forget that he got a literal business card from your ex? It was practically burning a hole into his bag. It's been 2 months—2 whole fucking months and he had this information just sitting there. Granted he didn't find out who he was until a month ago but still he's Spider-Man for goodness sake he should have put together the pieces.
Miguel spends the next few hours coming up with the perfect plan to end Spinebreaker once and for all before he ever gets the chance to come near you. The problem is deciding whether or not he should act now to get some information before filling the rest of the Spiders in on the plan or doing this all on his own. Like Lyla said according to the timeline Spinebreaker will die by his hands and his hands alone.
He rests his face in his hands as he takes a deep breath. He knew that being Spiderman has its risks he knows that being Spiderman you have to make sacrifices. Everything he does comes down to keeping you safe. Everything he does is for you. You are the top priority. He can't act unless he knows you are safe. If something happened to you and it was because of his poor choices. It—it will be the end of him.
•°~°•
A few days have passed and it's a little after 2 pm on Friday and he's on his way to meet you. You just finished a box and you called him…well Spiderman on the watch requesting for O’Hara to pick up the box that you just finished. He's feeling rather uneasy about today, especially knowing that right after he sees you he'll be on his way to infiltrate your ex's—Spinebreaker workplace. He's going to be undercover of course but still, he has to be careful one wrong move and lord knows what will happen to him.
He usually doesn't get nervous before a mission but knowing that after this he's one step closer to getting you and your baby girl out of danger puts an extra pep in his step.
Finally reaching your place he takes a deep breath before knocking on your door. He's glad he doesn't have to wear his whole cover-up today no sunglasses no face mask no nothing it's just him for today. It's just Miguel O’Hara. He has to tell you though—he wants to tell you. The longer he keeps this a secret the more it feels like it's eating him alive. He hates lying to you he really does he never meant for it to get this far. He just didn’t think that he’d be spending so much time with you. If you end up hating him for this he’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. Weirdly enough the thought of you not being in his life anymore….scares him….it scares him a lot. Way more than he thought it would.
But he had the perfect opportunity to tell you but it got taken away from him by your fucking ex. He's the problem and honestly, he won't rest until he knows that that man is behind bars.
All the thoughts in his head go silent the minute he sees you hiding behind the door frame. As he watches you slowly try to kick the box through the doorway he knows that something is wrong he can see it in your face.
“Hey, O’hara sorry my place is just kind of messy right now-” He puts his hand to stop the door the minute he sees you trying to close it shut. “What’s going on, why are you hiding? Is he-” He pauses right as the smell of paint hits his nose. Letting out a breath of relief he folds his arms across his chest as he stares down at you. He should've known you wouldn't have waited for him.
“W-why are you looking at me like that?” Slowly he watches as you begin to play with the doorknob. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Uhhh….no?”
He slowly begins to push open the door making sure not to hurt you. “Wait please no don’t come in” He pauses as you step in front of him. “And why is that? Just let me in” He stands there expectantly you probably don't even realize but the proof is literally on you. There's pink paint on your pants.
You let out a deep breath as you push some of your curls away from your face. You slowly begin to open the door letting him through as you make your way to the nursery. “Okay just don't get mad I just didn't want to bother you at work for something so mundane when I know you have bigger problems to worry about” Before he has the chance to say anything you immediately turn around looking flustered.
“N-Not you of course I’m talking about Spiderman sorry I didn’t mean to get you guys mixed up…I know you guys are totally different. Polar opposites even.” He narrows his eyes at you before letting out a breath. “Yeah….it’s fine” You nod as you continue walking to the room. He takes in the room and hangs his head low. You clearly didn’t keep your word stating that you were going to wait till the next 2 weeks to start getting things ready. Why didn’t you wait for him? You shouldn’t be moving all these things on your own. He looks at the wall and realizes that you started painting them already. Or at least you tried to; it looks uh…questionable. He checks his watch before he goes to roll up his sleeves. He has a few more hours to spare before it's time for him to leave.
•°~°•
You watch confusingly as Miguel begins to roll up his sleeves. “What are you doing?”
He walked over to the window, opening it up all the way. “Helping you. I don't even know why you're doing this on your own in the first place. You're pregnant you shouldn't even be smelling the fumes from the-” You reach over to grab the swimming goggles from off the dresser presenting it to him. “I came prepared thank you very much”
He shakes his head before pausing to take a look around the room. You watch as his eyes stop on the chair that you were using to stand up on. Dammit, you forgot to put that away. He's going to grill you about that for sure.
“Listen before you say anything I stopped when I realized how dangerous that was for me to be by myself in here”
He folds his arms across his chest. His muscles bulging against his white buttoned-down top. “That still doesn't help your case” You slowly nod. “Yeah I know….but I'm sorry. For what it's worth she did warn me I think when I stood on the chair for too long she started moving around a little too much so I had to sit down” You laugh silently to yourself as you stare down at your stomach rubbing it gently.
When you look back up you catch him already staring at you. “W-What is it?” He shakes his head no before picking up the paint roller and dipping it in paint. You walk back to sit on the windowsill to be closer to the air when you hear him clearing his throat.
“Nope go in the living room I'm not starting anything if you’re in here”
“Why not-”
“Because I said so”
“But I don't even have to help I could be here for morale support and plus I'm sitting by the window so I'll be fine”
“Nope I need you out of the room, it's for your own good”
“C’mon I'm not going to pass out or anything please can I stay?” You can see the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over.
“I'll put on a face mask…?” He lets out a sigh before nodding reluctantly. “Just stay by the window but if you're feeling lightheaded or anything you need to get out of the room” You nod your head excitedly. “I mean it”
•°~°•
For the next hour, you alternate between clearing out some of the boxes in the nursery and making conversation with O’Hara. He has to have been a painter in his past life because he's done so much in so little time. Plus it looks way better than what you were trying to do in the first place.
You leave the room deciding that as a thank you you'll make him something to eat. As much as you've been trying to keep this at the back of your mind you just can't. O’Hara is Spider-Man.
The minute you looked into his eyes you knew.
You just wish he would've told you something…..anything really. But yes you get that his identity has to remain hidden but you've expected that he would've told you by now. You trust him with your life you really do but maybe he just doesn't trust you? Is it bad to say you don't know how to earn his trust? Well, maybe that's just something that has to happen naturally. You hope you can earn it someday. But surprisingly you're not mad, a little sad sure but mad no. You know how scary it is to put your trust in someone only to have them play you in the face.
You let out a sigh as you begin to make small circles with the dough that you're kneading. Since he's given you empanadas you decided you can make some for him. You know he eats a lot so you'll have to make enough for the both of you. Well for all 3 of you. You turn around picking up the pot with the meat so you can begin to fill up the empanadas.
“What are you doing?” You jump at the sound of his voice as your grip tightens on the pot handles. “Jesus you can't keep-”
“Sorry, I wasn't trying to scare you” You nod as you begin filling up the first empanada. Before you close it up, pause and get a spoonful of it. It tastes good to you but you would hate it if it was unappetizing to him. “Try this and tell me what you think…do I need to add anything else to it”
He steps around the counter and hesitantly opens his mouth. Watching his features intently you wait to find any signs of disgust but surprisingly there's none there. “It's good”
“Really?” He nods slowly. You lower your head placing the spoon in the sink to hide your smile. “Thank you, would you like to help me? I was supposed to get this done before you finished but if you don’t want to then it’s okay”
“Nonsense you shouldn't be cooking for me in the first place you don't need to be on your feet all the time….but thank you” You nod your head and for the next few minutes y'all work in silence as you both finish making the empanadas.
When they're all on a pan and ready, O'Hara pops them into the oven. You begin to clean up but instead, he shoos you away forcing you to take a seat. You fiddle with your curls as you watch the muscles on his back while he washes the dishes. To your surprise, he finally breaks the silence as he dries his hands slowly turning around to face you.
“I used to make these all the time” You immediately sit up straight, giving him your full undivided attention. “Why did you stop?”
He pauses for a moment as he dusts off the flour on the counter. “I stopped seeing the person I used to make it with….she left” Oh…he's talking about his ex you presume. You totally don't care at all. His love life doesn't matter to you not one bit. You know he doesn't really talk about himself so much and the fact he's involuntarily telling you a little bit about him has to mean something. But should you even pry you don't wanna assume anything.
“Well I don't know the context but I'm sorry that she left you, you're a great guy. You clearly know how to take of a woman even if you were a little mean at first”
“What no…she wasn't it—it wasn't like that she was….” He pauses and he roughly runs his fingers through his hair before gripping onto the counter. “Listen if you don't want to-”
“She was my daughter”
…….
What in the world is he talking about? He had a daughter…. You immediately put your hands flat on the counter getting off the chair to make your way to him. You place a hand on his forearm as his head hangs low with his eyes glued to the counter. This silence is different, it feels heavy…it doesn't take a genius to know that this is affecting him.
When you finally muster up the courage you open up your mouth to speak. “Was? Is she-” He cuts you off with a nod of his head. “Oh my gosh I'm so so sorry I didn't-”
He shakes his head no before he stops leaning on the counter folding his hands across his chest as he turns to face you. You stare up at him as tears begin to fill your eyes. His body is facing you but his eyes are everywhere but you. You place a gentle hand on his arm rubbing small circles with your thumb. “I don’t need your pity. It’s just it reminded me of her when we were cooking, that's all” You slowly nod.
“No no, it’s okay you don’t have to explain anything I—you….thank you for trusting me with this. I can't imagine experiencing that” Your hand slowly ghosts over your stomach. D-Does he feel uncomfortable being around you?
He tightly closes his eyes before he slowly turns to look at you. His eyes are just filled with sadness. “I haven't really talked to anyone about this so…but enough I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” His eyes darted down to your hand that's slightly over your stomach. You begin to rapidly shake your head. “I don't think you could ever make me feel uncomfortable…but I'm the one with the baby growing inside of me. Doesn't being around me make you uncomfortable?”
He lets out a deep sigh as his eyes dart from your stomach to your face. “No, it doesn't actually…..I feel okay when I'm with you”
You give him a small smile. “Oh…just okay well you know what that's better than nothing”
He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean” You let out a small laugh as you begin to playfully poke his shoulder trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Yeah, I do…well I'm glad you feel okay enough to hang out with us. We are really glad to have you here”
He nods. “Yeah me too” Silence fills the air as you both stare at each other. Suddenly becoming aware of the lack of distance between the two of you your eyes dart down to his lips only for a brief second. For some reason, you feel the distance becoming smaller and smaller with each passing second. Without thinking you slowly slide your hand to the crook of his neck. You let out a deep sigh before tightly closing your eyes. You begin to pull away right as the timer goes off.
Nervously tucking your curls behind your ears you wipe your palms on the side of your pants you're way too embarrassed to look at him right now. “Saved by the Bell”
As much as you want this to happen it—it can't…to him he still is two different people, Miguel aka Spiderman, and O'Hara, your neighbor. He's still essentially lying to you. Like you said maybe he doesn't trust you enough just yet.
•°~°•
While letting the food cool down you guys go back into the nursery trying to finish fixing it up. The paint is not completely dry but it's almost there. He won't let you help him move anything so you're left standing in the door frame directing where you want things to go. As you watch him you get the idea to sneak off to go and get your camera. You don't have any pictures of him and without him, you would've probably been stuck on painting.
You quickly take the picture hiding behind the doorframe but he catches you anyway. You hear him quietly making a sound. It sounds like he's laughing…?
“If you wanted a picture all you had to do is ask”
Slowly you come out with a huge grin on your face. “Would you have actually stood there and posed for a picture?” You watch as he goes silent as he rises to his full height. When he gives you a thumbs up you look at him confusingly.
“Wait are you actually-”
“You told me to pose for a picture”
…….
You double over with your hands on your knees as you burst out laughing. “T-Theres no way I can't—I can't believe this” You rest a hand on your stomach as you wipe away your tears.
You slowly walk over to O’Hara stretching out your hand to hand him the camera. “Okay okay let's take a cool one, please. I don't need her to look at these and think I'm forcing you to be here” He rolls his eyes before slowly taking the camera from you. You hesitate for a moment before walking away to pick up one of the smaller paintbrushes.
“Okay I'm ready or wait do you wanna hold it?” He gives you a nod before taking it from you. Closing the distance between the two of you go to rest your head on his shoulder but he ends up wrapping his arm around your waist instead. You look up at him giving him a small smile.
“You ready?” You nod and turn to face the camera, your hands resting on your stomach as you hold it gently. The flash goes off but when you look up at him he's already looking down at you.
“Did you even look at the camera? C’mon, give me a smile”
“No”
“Pretty please” He lets out a sigh as he slowly faces the camera. “Come on then. One more” You let out an excited squeal before facing the camera again. Once the flash goes off you whisper a thank you to him as you take the camera and walk to put it back in your room.
Finally finishing up moving things around the nursery while being mindful of the paint on the walls. Walking into the kitchen you try to split the empanadas even with O’Hara but he refuses. So instead of getting ten each, he gets 7 and you get 13. The sun is setting by the time you are walking him to the door. You lean against the doorframe again as he rolls the down sleeves of his white button-down shirt.
“Sooooo where are you headed to now? You look all professional and stuff. It's a little weird”
“I have a meeting to go to” You begin to lift your head off of the doorframe his words immediately sparking interest. “Oh I’m sorry we didn’t keep you for too long did we?”
“No, but I have to get going otherwise I'm going to be late” You bite back a yawn as you begin to lazily nod along. “Okay okay well thanks for hanging out with us I really don’t know what I would've done if you weren't there to help us. And I’m glad you feel okay hanging out with-” Immediately pausing when you feel her moving around in your stomach you let out a groan when your lower back starts hurting.
“Come on, you need to relax, you've been up all day” Nodding along you rest your hands on your waist as he leads you back into your place with a small hand rubbing circles on your back. Tears cloud your vision as you make it to your bedroom and he slowly tucks you in. You wave goodbye as he exits the room slipping in and out of consciousness causing you to miss the words that come out of his mouth. It probably wasn’t important anyway.
•°~°•
Miguel has to press a hand to his abdomen to prevent himself from bleeding out all over the fucking floor.
Was he expecting the infiltration to go completely well? No.
Was he expecting to be ambushed? Also no.
All was going well a little too well to be exact. He was able to get into the building without a problem. He was able to get some valuable information as well. He had to try his hardest not to lash out in anger. Apparently, Spinebreaker is planning something in a week. It's not rocket science to know that it has something to do with you.
He wasn't expecting to come in contact with Spinebreaker and when he walked right passed him the minute their eyes he knew. He knew that he recognized him from all those months ago. Although he had on a disguise one that made him look like a different person it still wasn't good enough. But it was his fault he made the rookie mistake of wearing his suit below the disguise.
Lyla was only able to give him a 10-minute window before he could get out of the building safely. And of course that led to him having to fight on his own. To make matters even worse Spinebreaker didn't even join in he laughed and watched as the whole thing unfolded.
He slowly makes his way to your place after making sure that no one is on his tail. He won't forget as Spinebreaker's voice echoed amongst the chaos.
“So you know where my wife is then? You wouldn't be here if you didn't. Is she hiding somewhere at HQ?”
“I didn't think she would be in cahoots with Spider-Man but here we are”
“What was it that drew you in? Was it her naivety? There is an innocence that surrounds her, no?”
“She's too kind for her own good. I tried to protect her from this cruel world I really did. She wouldn't understand that they would eat her up and toss her to the side when they're done with her”
“I tried to show her how good she has it when she's with me. But she just can't fucking stay still. She's so hard to control. But look, I finally got her pregnant. She's stuck with me now. I'll be damned if another man raises my child.”
“But tell me how can a bird fly once you've clipped their wings? How long does it take till they defeatedly walk back to the nest? How long does it take till they end up Right. Where. They. Belong.”
By the time he reaches your place, he knocks on the window in the living room before resting on the fire escape. He allows his suit to camouflage with the wall. The last thing he wants to do is scare you again but he needs to tell you the danger you're in. He shoots you a text to let you know ahead of time that he's coming in.
You'll have to go into hiding. You can't go outside anymore until that man is behind bars or truthfully until that man is dead. While he sits there thinking of the next possible steps to keep you out of harm's way he sets his dislocated shoulder back into place. Only wincing slightly. He takes a deep breath as he feels his body slowly healing itself. He doesn't even realize that it's raining until he hears the sound of the water hitting the steps of the fire escape.
He has to let the rest of the spiders know that they have to prepare for the worst-case scenario. Although Spinebreaker is looking for you based on his past attacks he won't hesitate to destroy buildings throughout the city to get what he wants. So it's not only you that's in danger, it's the citizens of Nueva York.
He is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears footsteps throughout your apartment. It looks like you're up. He doesn't say anything until he hears the window opening.
“Miguel my goodness why didn't you just come inside?” He says nothing as you try to drag him inside.
He's watching as you begin to go in a frenzy searching for a towel. Then going to put on the kettle for some tea. “You need to-”
“You're bleeding all over the floor, a-and you're limping, are you kidding me right now? Is everything okay? What happened? Lyla, what happened to him?”
He watches as Lyla phases in but he gives her a subtle shake of his head signifying her to not say anything. He watches as you continue to hastily inspect his wounds. Yes, he’s gotten worse beatings before so this is nothing new to him but to you….you look so frightened and he doesn’t like it one bit.
“Listen I’m fine just calm down-”
You begin to rapidly shake your head as you try to pat him dry, careful not to press too hard on the gashes along his body. “You can’t tell me to calm down when you’re in my apartment looking like this. My god what about your super healing? Why isn't it working?”
He pauses right as the words leave your mouth. How did you know about that?
“They told me on my first day…..why did you allow me to—never mind that doesn't matter. Be real with me please how did you get like this? Was it b-because of me? Did he do this-” He cuts you off as you begin to pat the towel along his face. Grabbing your hand he slowly holds it resting his other hand on the side of your cheek. “Listen to me for the next week you're going to have to go into complete isolation you need to stay inside. Don't go by the windows, turn off your phone-”
“He hurt you, didn't he…Oh my gosh, this is all my fault I-” He cuts you off taking a step closer to you. His other hand moved from your hand to cradle the other side of your face as well. Grateful that the rain washed away the blood from his hands. “Hey hey hey don't say stuff like that none of this is your fault you hear me? You didn't do anything wrong”
He slowly watches as you begin to shake your head no as tears begin to fall down your face. “He—he won't stop until he finds me I-I’ve been through this before. He's going to keep hurting you and everyone till he gets me. I don't think I can live to see you like this knowing that I'm the reason”
“No I brought this onto myself I made a rookie mistake and I got ambushed this is all because of me. Trust me when I say that but I need you to listen to me. You can't come to work anymore, you need to stay inside. I have to get the spiders ready to start formulating a plan. He's not going to only come for you, he's going to attack everyone as well”
You slowly nod along and he pauses to wipe away your tears with his thumb.
“I-I have a doctor's appointment in a few days I don't wanna miss it she's going to be here soon so I wanna make sure everything's okay”
He thinks it over for a second but he knows how easy it is for things to change especially when you're so close to your due date.
“Yeah yeah okay I'll come with you” He gets ready to pull away but he pauses when you rest your head against his. “P-Please be careful I’ve reached the point where I’m terrified to lose you….so please” All he can do is stare at you deeply as you go on your tippy toes placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. He wishes he didn’t have his mask on right now; he wishes that he could show you how deeply he cares.
“Yeah, I’ve….reached that point as well. I’ll keep you updated on everything”
You nod before finally pulling away from him completely. He watches as you fold your hands across your chest playing with the sleeves of your sweater. “Sorry for my outburst I—whoa” You pause watching as she begins to move in your stomach it looks like she's trying to claw her way out. You have to rest your hands on your waist as you stare down at her in amazement. The longer you stare the more you realize she isn't kicking it looks like actively moving. You have to try not to wince at the slight pain. It feels very weird.
“I think she flipped…she's upside down now”
Miguel stares at you both in awe. He meant it when he said he didn't feel uncomfortable around you. He feels at peace…calm even and that's a lot coming from a man like him. Amongst everything he feels at peace when he's with you.
•°~°•
You let out a low laugh as you rub your stomach trying to soothe her. “I-I think she did” Looking up you catch him staring at your stomach or at least you think he is. He does that a lot and you realize you always catch him staring. When he's Spiderman and when he's your neighbor. You know he said he feels comfortable around you and you don't wanna push your luck but you can't help it.
“Would you like to feel her?” He appears to be startled at your words and he takes a step back holding up his hands in defense.
“I don't wanna hurt you…or her” You follow him, taking a step forward. “No you won't-” You were surprised when his claws unsheathed from his hands.
You take another step forward hesitantly you grab his hand causing him to retract his claws. You pull it towards you resting it on your face. “You didn't hurt me from before so how could you hurt me now? But if you really don't feel comfortable then it's okay I'm just letting you know that you can” He slowly nods his head before letting out a sigh.
You both decide it's best that you call it a night. You offered him to stay over because of his bruises and surprisingly he accepted. After cleaning up some of his bruises you both sit in your room. You're resting on the bed and he's resting on the floor not wanting to wear his dirty suit on the bed. Amidst the chaos, you both were able to find some comfort within each other by talking about anything and everything. It's a great way of taking your mind off of things. It is a little different though having small talk with Miguel. The more that you think about it the more you realize the similarities and differences between Miguel and O’Hara or is it just Miguel O’Hara now? You let out a sigh that's louder than you expected.
His head immediately turns in your direction and you shake your head whispering to him that you're okay. Before you even know it you fall asleep and you're waking up in the middle of the night feeling a sense of warmth in your hand. You subtly look over and see that he is holding onto your hand and he presses buttons on the orange screens in front of him with his free hand. You smile to yourself as you drift back off to sleep. At least you're not alone anymore.
•°~°•
These past few days you have been on edge. You've been reacting to every little sound that you hear, scared that it could be your ex. You've been focusing on trying to take your mind off of things but more so you need to try to focus on keeping your stress levels low. You're 34 weeks right now and the closer you are to your due date the more you want to control your emotions. You're so close to the finish line everything needs to be perfect you really don’t need to get riled up. Miguel enabled an invisible barrier around your place and at all times there's a Spider nearby.
You would've thought he would move you to a new location but he declared it was too risky to do it right now. And since then you haven't really been able to see Miguel you've only seen and been able to communicate with him on your watch.
But today is the day of your doctor's appointment. It's just a checkup to see how she's doing and if everything is going well. You're more than excited to get a closer look at your baby girl. Your stomach has gotten even bigger and now it feels like you're waddling. You don't know how big it can possibly get but you do know that your stomach is supposed to drop but that still hasn't happened yet.
You and Miguel walk side by side into the doctor's offices with your disguises on. You're wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt plus the face-changing disguise that Lyla put on you. However, you’ll have to take it off when you reach inside. You’re a little nervous to be here with Miguel, especially after what he just revealed to you. Never in a million years would you have ever thought he had a child he had a family. You know that this is probably none of your business but you can’t help but wonder what happened to his daughter and well…his wife or girlfriend or maybe they weren’t even together maybe he just had a baby with someone and became a single father. The icing on the cake was finding out his daughter was no longer here. You can't imagine what he must've gone through during those times. As a soon-to-be mother, you already know how much this baby means to you and she's not even here yet, and the thought of you losing her right here and now would break you. You wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, not even your worst enemy.
You really shouldn't be thinking about this right now. All these negative thoughts won't be good for both you and for her. Right as you step foot in the building your disguises come off. While checking in and subtly glance over at Miguel…just checking to make sure that he's okay even though you asked him that question about 5 times already it never hurts to ask again.
Taking a deep breath as you hear your name being called you slowly rise to your feet resting your hands on your stomach. You walk extremely slow now and it can be rather infuriating watching everyone just zoom past you. Living in Nueva York if you don't walk fast enough prepared to get pushed out of the way. Right before reaching the nurse that's going to lead you to the room you stare at Miguel before finally speaking up.
“Are you sure you're really okay with this? You can even wait outside the room you don't have-”
“I'm fine I know how to control my emotions…it's been years” You try not to let out a gasp at his words. You decide it's best not to say anything. Following the nurse to the room you sit on the bed with your hands resting right below your stomach. They already checked your height and weight so when your doctor comes in all of the focus is on your baby.
When she comes in her eyes immediately land on Miguel and as you take a look at her face you should've warned her that someone, a man to be exact, would be accompanying you. During your very first visit, you had a few bruises on you which you forgot to cover up. Naturally, you've told her about your ex-husband but for all of your appointments, you've been by yourself so you could only imagine what's going through her head right now.
She makes a beeline for you and immediately places her hand on yours whispering to you quietly enough so he doesn't hear. “Do you want me to call someone or I can remove him from this room myself? All that muscle doesn't scare me.” You immediately shake your head speaking loud enough for Miguel to hear.
“No it's not him….this is a really good friend of mine he's been good to me I trust him” You and your doctor hold eye contact before she nods introducing herself to him.
She starts off by checking for your baby girl's heartbeat. You felt your heart plummet when you could only see her but you couldn't hear anything. Immediately you felt Miguel grabbing your hand and you returned it with a squeeze. You both let out a sigh of relief the minute the sound reached your ears. You didn't realize it but he held your hand the whole time until he had to step out to take a call presumably by Lyla.
Finally, you're done with your appointment you slowly make your way out of the room subtly going to the corner to check on your watch to send him a message. Walking around with your hand underneath your stomach you lock eyes with the receptionist.
“If you’re looking for your partner he stepped outside he said to just meet him in the car” You give her a small smile trying to mask your surprised expression. Why would he ever tell her that? Checking in with your watch you read a message from him “Wait for me I’m coming”. Well, maybe he just wants you to meet him in the car?
Right before you step out you manage to change back into your disguise walking back to your car. You notice the lack of cars that are in the parking lot as you take note of your surroundings. But you can’t find Miguel anywhere pausing as you get a notification you immediately feel your blood run cold.
“Where are you? Your doctor said you left already I'm looking for you in the lobby”
“Please tell me you didn’t leave we have to get you home there is a high chance the attack is today”
You begin to text him but decide it’s better to just call him. You turn around getting ready to walk as fast as you possibly can right as you feel a hand on your arm almost yanking you backwards.
*****
“How long did you think you could actually stay away from me huh?”
You can feel your body slowly shutting down at the sound of his voice alone. You can’t even bear to look at him as he pulls you to face him. Tightly closing your eyes you can already feel yourself struggling to fight against him and it's hurting knowing that after all these months you're still so afraid of him to the point where you can't even look at this man. But you have to try. It's not just you that you're protecting, it's your baby girl as well. And you would do whatever you can to keep her out of harm's way.
Slowly mustering all of the courage that you have, you hesitantly open up your tears-filled eyes. “P-Please don't do this not right now” Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes meet. To think that you were ever in love with this man is scary. To think that he was ever in love with you…..is scary.
“Don't fucking play these games and act like your innocent. Were you going to let another man raise my child?” He pulls you in till his breath fans on your face.
“N-No I wasn't I swear I was going to do this all on my own we're not to-” You let out a shriek the moment your back hits a car. He has one hand tightly wrapped around both of your wrists and a hand on the back of your neck.
“Finish that sentence I dare you”
“B-But you know it's true we aren't together anymore” You pause as the grip on your wrist gets tighter. “Please you're hurting me…t-think about the baby you're hurting her if you hurt me so please”
To your surprise, you can feel his hold on you loosen. His eyes dart between yours and then down to your stomach. As much as you don't want to you maneuver your hand out of his grasp and place it on his face.
“P-Please don't do this….don't hurt me again” Just when you think he'll let you go you immediately take note of the switch in his eyes. You can't change someone who's not willing to change. You don't know why you thought that being pregnant would change a thing. Right as he opens up his mouth a red web attaches to his face and he is yanked into a wall of a building 5 stories over.
*****
Debris falls onto the ground below from the impact. You don't even realize that Miguel is running up to you.
“Dammit, did he hurt you? Are you okay? How's the baby?” You don't even have time to answer the questions as his hands wander all over you. You immediately pull him into a hug. “N-No I think I'm okay a little shaken up but we're okay. I'm sorry for leaving but the receptionist told me that you're outside so I-” He cuts you off by leaning back to cradle your face.
“Stop apologizing I should've never left—but listen to me you can't be here it's not safe” You both turn your heads to a loud screech coming from behind you guys. You're no longer looking at your ex-husband, you're looking at Spinebreaker. You can't believe how stupid you were. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see multiple spiders running towards you. Feeling Miguel slowly pushing you in their direction, you begin to panic.
“They will take you somewhere safe I'm going to try my hardest to come back to you you hear me if not then-”
“What do you mean “If not” promise me you'll come back to me” You watch in confusion as he doesn't say anything back. Is he for real right now? He begins to bark orders at the other Spiders as screams from a distance reach your ears. Instinctively you cradle your stomach before quickly walking up to him placing a hand on his cheek.
“Promise me you'll make it back to us Miguel” He stands there unmoving and you assume that he's staring down at you since he has his suit on so you can't see his face.
His suit disengages around his mouth just enough for his lips to be freed he closes the distance between you two placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You have to choke back a sob when you feel him resting his hand ever so gently on your stomach as if he's scared to even do it.
“Stay safe for me…. please”
“Miguel no no please don't do this-”
“Ben take her away you know the drill”
“Copy boss” You feel two hands on your shoulder pulling you away from him and you immediately begin to shake them off.
“Come on it's not safe for you here”
“I-I don't want to leave-” You pause right as a lot of shouting and yelling happens all around you.
“BEN GET HER OUT OF HERE”
“Mig-” You don't even have time to finish saying his name and Ben already has picked you up in the Bridal position.
“Hold on to me beautiful” You slowly nod before wrapping an arm around his neck as he uses a web to swing away.
•°~°•
Miguel didn't even have it in him to watch as Ben drags you away. He's really trying to keep the image of you looking so mortified once you realize there's a chance he may or may not be coming back. He knows how these things go and he knows how easy it is to fuck up. One mistake could cost you your life. But even now the last thing he wanted to do was lie to you. He truly and honestly doesn't know if he'll make it back in one piece.
He's going straight for your ex he could barely even think straight when he saw him towering over you. When he saw him putting his hands on you he saw red. He didn't even have time to think he just moved. Miguel is currently surveying the crowd fighting Spinebreakers henchmen while pointing people in the direction of safety.
It isn't until he hears someone calling out his name that he immediately starts to go in that direction. Coming face to face with Sprinbreaker Miguel immediately starts cracking his neck and knuckles. He's going to watch with satisfaction as the life drains from his eyes. To think that he would still put his hands on you while you're carrying his child is insane. This man doesn't deserve jail he deserves to die.
•°~°•
2 hours have passed and every 30 minutes you've been checking in with Miguel and it's not really for him to know that you're okay but for you to know that he's okay. Granted you know that he's fighting but at least Lyla is able to text for him.
You're at a safehouse with Ben and as much as he's trying to cheer you up it isn't working. Nothing will work until you know that Miguel and everyone else that you care about is safe.
•°~°•
Miguel gets an extra pep in his step the minute your text comes in. Lyla reads it out to him while he's throwing fists with Spinebreaker addressing him as your ex just sounds like an insult to you. Miguel tries to ignore his words as he slams him into a nearby wall.
“Do you really think that she would let you be the father of my child?”
“I’ll be a better father than you’ll ever be” He watches as Spinebreaker grows visibly angry at his comment.
“Don’t be fucking stupid you’re probably just trying to use her as a replacement for the family you already lost. Are you not tired of placing house yet?”
Miguel pauses for a second which earns him a punch in the face. He shouldn't let comments like these get to him, it's not worth it.
•°~°•
Another hour goes by and instead of updating you right as you send the message they are now coming in 2 minutes sometimes 4 minutes later. Are you ignoring the fact that Miguel is literally fighting Spinebreaker right now? Yes. But he has Lyla for a reason right? He doesn't even have to pause to answer. That can only mean one thing: he's getting tired.
You're watching a news channel on your phone and watch checking to make sure you don't miss a single thing. You've been walking around as your baby girl moved around at what feels like 10 miles per hour in your stomach. Of course, now is the time when you feel very tired and drained not to mention your wrists hurt. And the ice that Ben has for you didn't really work.
You watch closely as Miguel and Spinebreaker fight amongst the chaos that surrounds them. Everyone is running frantically. Spiders are fighting Spinebreakers henchmen while cars are getting flipped over, windows are being broken and mini fires line the streets. To think that this is Nueva York, the city that you've grown to love breaks your heart and it's all because of you.
You watch in horror as Spinebreaker begins to charge up a glowing green device attached to his arm as Miguel slowly gets up from hitting a large beam. As they both engage in battle again at the corner of your screen you notice that a few of the henchmen are shooting their weapons at the walls of buildings that if they were to fall would fall directly on the both of them.
Immediately you cover your mouth and type as quickly as you can to Miguel. You fill Ben in and he immediately alerts the other Spiders in the area.
“No we have to go to them and warn them they aren't going to pay attention to their watches right now”
“Miguel will kill me if I bring you back there no”
“Ben don't do this, they could all die, and get seriously injured if we don't warn them” Ben begins to shake his head and you immediately begin to walk in the direction of the door.
“Princess don't-”
“Will he be more mad that you let me go by myself or that you're with me?”
•°~°•
As much as he hates to admit it his stamina is decreasing. His moves are getting sloppier and he's just downright upset that this man is still alive. He managed to break an arm but in the next 5 minutes, it was repaired. It makes no sense and it's no doubt that it has something to do with his suit. Spinebreaker suit is green and red and they’re buttons all over it. It looks very-
He pauses right as Spinebreaker taps on the device that he has been rebooting for the past 50 seconds.
“Let's settle this once and for all I really want to get back to my wife” Miguel doesn't even have the time to respond and Spinebreaker is already launching at him. He meets him halfway and Miguel manages to use his web to drag a rock to strike him in the face.
Blood coats his face and Miguel takes the opportunity to lunge at him immediately using his webs to hold him down. He manages to land more blows to his face before breaking both of his hands and arms at the same time.
“This is for putting your hands on her” Too oblivious to the charged-up weapon Miguel sinks his fangs into Spinebreaker's neck allowing his venom to sink through. Miguel watches the venom seep into his body expecting it to paralyze him instead his body starts convulsing violently. He starts coughing up blood but starts smiling in the process.
“If I die you die with me so none of us gets to have her” Miguel misses as Spinebreaker points the charged-up weapon at the both of them.
“MIGUEL WATCH OUT” He immediately tenses up when he hears your voice managing to point the weapon directly away from him he uses his web to jump back but his left leg ends up getting hit in the process. He looks up slowly realizing the buildings around him are falling. The weapon goes off partially shooting Spinebreaker in the face and shooting a building making it fall even faster. Right before swinging away, he pauses as he sees Peter's leg caught under a rock.
He sighs as he knows what he's about to do; he really can't have another death on his conscience. Once he locates the sound of your voice he quickly helps Peter using his web to push him towards Ben. Right as Ben uses his webs to grab Peter he can see it in your face that it's too late. It's too late for him to even save himself. He manages to put his hand over his heart as he slowly allows his mask to disengage.
•°~°•
You scream out his name the minute he goes under. You’re on the roof of a building several stories over. You can’t even believe what you just saw right now. You immediately begin fighting your way past Peter and Ben so you can get to him. H-He can’t just leave you like this…he can’t.
Carefully you maneuver your way through the rubble calling out to him as clutch your stomach.
“Please go back pretty lady I don't need you getting hurt”
“L-Lyla where is he..f-find him I-I can’t…Lyla help me please” You watch Lyla with tear-filled eyes as she helps you find him being mindful of where you’re stepping while following Lyla. The minute you see red and blue you carefully walk to it, grateful that he isn’t fully covered in rubble. Before you could make it to him Ben and Peter try to pull him out as much as he can without hurting themselves and him. The minute he’s freed you immediately sink to the floor placing his head on your lap his mask is slowly disengaging you try to hold his face but he turns the other way.
“Don’t” You try your hardest not to let your tears fall on his face. “I-I already know there’s no need to hide from me anymore….Miguel O’Hara. I knew the moment you took off your sunglasses. You can’t hide from me” You pause as he meets your eyes and a small smile emits on your face.
“Hey”
“Hey” You begin to wipe away dust from his face staring as the mask fully disappears.
“I wasn’t trying to lie to you I just-” You begin to shake your head no. “P-Please now is not the time I-I get I really do just hang on for me help is on the way you hear me?”
“I….don’t think I can”
“Please don’t do this, you're going to be okay. Lyla already alerted everyone and-”
“I can’t…feel my legs…it hurts to breathe my ribs are crushed and if I move now-”
“So you’re giving up just like that” He shakes his head no as you push back a few curls out of his face. “No, I’m telling you the truth…..I’m not going to….give you false hope”
“I-I won’t accept this what am I going to do if you’re not here—Lyla how far are they” You begin to assess his body checking for any signs of bleeding. Anything that you can see to prevent him from bleeding out. “I don’t know everything is closed off and-”
“WELL TRY HARDER…” You try your hardest not to raise your voice at her but easier said than done in a situation like this. “I-I can’t lose him”
“You’ll be fine…you have your baby girl….on the way and-”
“No I-I don't think I could do this without you…I want you there with me….you’re supposed to meet her”
“I know…and I’m sorry I won’t be there…to see her” You pause as you watch him slowly raise his right hand to cradle your face. You can see the amount of pain that he's in and it’s breaking your heart. “It doesn't take a genius….to know that you’ll be a great mom” Your tears are now falling on his face you don’t even have it in you to stop it. “Miguel don’t do this…fight for me for her for us. I-I think I…” You let your words trail off as you gather the courage to finally say how you’re feeling.
You place a hand over the one he has on your face. “I think…..I’m in love with you Miguel” You watch as the tips of his mouth curve upwards just the slightest.
“You think?” You give him a small smile.
“You know what I mean”
“For what it’s worth….I think I love you too” You don’t resist as you feel him slowly pulling you forward. You hold his face gently as he rests your forhead on his. Both your eyes are closed as you bask in the feeling. “D-Don’t leave me please”
“I’m…sorry” You immediately press your lips on his for a brief moment too scared that you’ll lose him without realizing. You sit up as you feel her moving around. Miguel stares at your stomach before meeting your eyes and maybe it’s your own eyes but you swear his are glassy. You have to put a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as he places a hand on your stomach along with a kiss.
“I want to say….thank you….for giving me a second chance”
You begin to run your fingers through his hair. “A-A second chance at what? Migs”
“Giving me….a second chance of…having the family I always wanted” He pauses and turns his head to cough up blood. One hand lingers on your stomach and he places the other over his heart as he slowly closes his eyes.
“Thank You”
•°~°•
Taglist: @nxrdamp @obsessedwithromance @kawaiibakadesign @dinuxia-bhm
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P.S. How y'all feeling LMAO😇
If you'd like to be added to the tag list say yes and you'll be added<3333
As always thanks for reading<333
With Much Love,
Cece❤️
367 notes · View notes
littleenglishfangirl · 5 months
Text
Never Leave You Hurtin' Again - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x f!Reader
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2,793
Request: 'Can I have #2 angsty and #5 fluffy from the prompt list! where Hangman says #2. They are having the most heated fight in their relationship and he leaves before saying something nasty... Read More ~ Find my dialogue prompt list here.
Warnings: Angst! Mention of a car crash, hospital setting, injury, a little bit of swearing (f*ck and damn), lots of crying, bad writing [as always], use of y/n.
Notes: My first TG request! I loved writing this and am so excited to do more, so do send them my way. I am also opening a little tag list so do let me know if you want to be added to that. Also, why is coming up with titles for pieces so difficult? I'm convinced I am awful at it.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ~ Find my Masterlist Here
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You never thought you and Jake would be the kind to argue, but here you were. 
You sat on the couch, tears welling in your eyes as you screamed at one another. You couldn’t even remember what had started it all, but it had rapidly progressed into you admitting to how alone you had felt over the last month, Jake shouting about how it was his job, and you knew what you were getting yourself in for when you said yes to him eight months ago. You couldn’t meet his eyes as you continued your fight, staring fixedly at one spot on the floor as the tears slowly rolled down your cheeks. 
“You have no idea what kind of pressure I am under every damn day,” Jake stressed, pacing irritatingly around your small living room.
“Maybe I would if you would just talk to me about things,” you rebutted quietly, still refusing to look at him. You heard him scoff,
“You know I can’t give you the details of-” “It’s not just that though, is it Jake,” you snapped, finally looking up at him again as he stopped still. “You don’t tell me anything, you don’t tell me how you are feeling, you don’t tell me about your friends – what you can talk to me about you still don’t. Everything just feels so… one sided,” you trailed off. “I know you haven't had a fixed girlfriend for a long while before me, and I am starting to wonder if you actually want me, that maybe I have overstayed my welcome. Maybe you haven't changed all that much after all.” 
You watched as Jake’s jaw clenched, biting back a response as his nostrils flared trying to calm himself down. After a few painful seconds of silence, he finally moved, “I am going to leave now before I say something I will regret later,” he stormed to grab his jacket from the hook by the door, slinging it over his shoulders. You watched him, panic rising in your chest,
“Will you be back?”
“I don’t know.” And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.
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Jake continued to ignore you the next day. You had lost count of how many times you had checked your calls and texts, trying to resist the urge to send him the tenth message of the day, even though he had read the last one and not replied. 
Biting your lip, you threw your phone onto your bed, collapsing onto the edge and holding your head in your hands as you sobbed again. Why did you have to take it so far? Why did you have to say what you did? Why couldn’t you have just shut up like Jake had?
You laid back across your bed, staring out the window at the darkening night sky outside and fighting the tears back as you smelt the comforting scent that was distinctly Jake on the pillow next to yours. Thinking about it, last night was the first time in two months that you hadn’t spent the night together – no wonder you hadn’t been able to sleep alone. 
You wiped your cheeks unceremoniously with the backs of your hands, not caring about pulling at the skin as you stood up and made your way to your bathroom, grabbing some tissue to blow your nose. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, eyes puffy, cheeks stained, and nose red from where you had rubbed it disgustingly. You wondered how any girl ever looked pretty when they cried. 
Turning back to your bedroom, your eyes glimpsed your car keys sitting on your nightstand and, against your better judgement, you grabbed for them, slipping on your shoes and shrugging on a hoodie before making your way to your car.
Are you home? I need you – you texted Penny. It was midweek, so while the bar was open she was unlikely to be working, you prayed you had got her on the right night as you started up your engine, wiping your eyes again quickly before reversing out of the driveway. 
Penny was the closest thing you had to a mother out here in California – you had worked a few months at the Hard Deck as you settled into town and found a more permanent job and you had never been more thankful for someone taking you under their wing. For a moment, with your heart hurting, you almost wished you had listened to her about Jake when you first served him. ‘Don't fall for those pretty eyes,’ she had warned you. ‘I have seen too many girls fall too hard and crash harder.’ You wondered now if she had been right, but you shook the thought away as quickly as it came. 
Your phone buzzed and lit up on the passenger seat beside you and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at it immediately. You reached over, turning the screen to see who it was that had finally replied. It was Penny: Sure, the front door is- 
You never made it to the end of the text. A flash of lights and a loud honk pulled you from your phone, your gaze shot up as a car sped through a junction, smacking into your passenger side. 
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When you hadn’t turned up 20 minutes later, Penny started to grow suspicious. The drive from your house was 15 minutes at most, and you were not one to send a text like that and not turn up without letting her know something had changed.
She was glancing out of her front window, pulling the curtain back and looking out down the street when she heard her phone buzz, she finally relaxed as she made her way over to it, you had been held up by something, or had stopped or snacks – it wouldn’t be the first time. 
The unknown number made her heart stop. Answering, it started to beat faster and faster – you had been in an accident - emergency contact - emergency room - surgery. She grabbed her keys, writing a quick note to Amelia letting her know dinner was in the fridge and where she had gone before she shot out the door, racing to the hospital. 
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“Hangman! Phone for ya!” Jake’s head whipped around at the call – for him? His brows knitted as he made his way over to the bar, shrugging at Coyote when he looked at him quizzically. He had thought a quick night playing some darts and a few relaxed drinks would be enough to help him settle his emotions enough before coming back to you for the night. He hadn’t meant to ignore you all day, he just didn’t know how to reply when he knew he had hurt you so badly, and you had hurt him equally. 
Leaning cockily against the wooden bar, drink in hand, he twisted the receiver to his ear, “Hangman,” he stated. 
“Jake, oh thank god, I didn’t have your number - I hoped you were there” Penny’s worried voice only just cut through the noise of the bustle and music around him.
“Penny? What’s wrong?” 
“It’s [y/n], she’s in the hospital.” Jake’s heart stopped, “There was an accident, she was on the way to my house and she was hit, she is in surgery now, I don't know-”
“When?” That is all he could bring himself to ask as he placed his bottle down, his hand shaking too much for him to trust himself to hold it.
“About an hour ago, she is in surgery, and has been for about half an hour.” 
“I’m on my way,” he all but threw the phone back at the bartender as he pushed himself through the scattered people in the bar, ignoring Coyote and Fanboy’s shouts asking him where he was going. 
His heart was hammering in his chest, the thought of you lying in surgery making it increasingly hard to breathe. If he had just been honest with you, opened up more, not gone out for a drink to settle his mind and gone straight to your house, would you have been in your car at all? Jake was impeccable at holding his nerve – he was a fighter pilot for fuck’s sake, and yet you had the ability to shake him to his core. And that terrified him. 
Pulling up to the hospital he nearly abandoned his car, not caring about parking tickets as he raced inside. He stopped frantically in the waiting room, looking around like a madman until he caught sight of Penny, etches of worry deep in her brow. He couldn’t help but hug her as he got to her. Hangman was not a touchy person, but he needed something to ground him – he couldn’t be more thankful when she hugged him back and stayed there.
“She is still in surgery,” she said quietly, allowing Jake to pull back only when he needed to. He clung on desperately, staring at the cold white floor of the horrible corridor over her shoulder before slowly and reluctantly stepping back. His eyes were glossy. 
“What have they said?”
“Not much. Something about hitting her head? Her shoulder was badly messed up, I think that’s what they are operating on.” 
“Fuck!” Jake shouted, everyone head’s in the cold waiting room whirled around to look at the commotion as he kicked the baseboard. 
“Hey, hey,” Penny comforted him, her hand lightly grazing his arm as he stood, hands on hips, seething at himself. “What’s going on?”
He looked into her eyes for a moment, before sighing. “We were arguing last night, the worst fight of our relationship. Things got pretty nasty, and I walked out. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want my anger to get the better of me so I left before I could say something I would regret. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I went to Javy’s for the night. I was going to have a quick drink tonight to relax and go back to hers and make it up. Fuck I bought flowers and everything,” he thought about the bouquet of your favourite wildflowers sitting on the back seat of his truck, they were probably ruined by how he had driven to the emergency room. His eyes welled up again.
“So that is why she needed to talk to me?”
Jake nodded, “It is my damn fault she was in that car in the first place.” 
It was a little while later when a nurse emerged from the end of the corridor, calling out for Penny as she glanced around the waiting room, she and Jake turned to her, the nurse eyeing him suspiciously before Penny gave her permission for him to hear what she had to say. 
“She is out of surgery, it went well,” Jake couldn’t help but exhale, a tiny weight lifted from his shoulders, “her head injury as been assessed, and a scan taken, and we were pleased to see there was no internal damage, with any luck, she will only have the worst headache of her life for a day or so.”
“Thank you nurse,” Penny smiled, looking up the Jake who was still incredibly tense beside her,
“When can we see her?” Jake urged almost scaring the poor nurse, 
“I’ll be able to take you in around half an hour or so, we are just monitoring a little more now we have moved her. She might not be awake for a few more hours after the anaesthesia.” Jake nodded, tight-lipped as Penny thanked her again quietly and she moved back to the nurse’s station. 
He stopped dead in the doorway when he was finally allowed in. Your head was wrapped, your face a little swollen, and your shoulder encased in wraps and bandages. A breathing tube was hooked over each ear to help you take steady breaths almost as rhythmically as the beeping of the heart rate monitor in the background. 
“She’s okay, Jake,” Penny assured him as she saw his eyes gleaming again. He finally moved, taking the hand of your uninjured arm gingerly and crouching at your side, placing a gentle kiss on the scuffed knuckles. He had never loved anyone like he had loved you before, and his chest hurt at the idea you could have gone before he had the chance to show you that he had changed, that he was willing to communicate, and that he really did indeed want you around him for the rest of his life. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin, his thumb working its way slowly back and forth against the soft skin of the back of your hand. 
“Will you phone me when she is awake and talking?” Penny asked.
“You’re going?” Jake’s eyes shot up, almost scared to be alone with you again in case you woke up and didn’t want him.
“She is in safe hands,” Penny said softly then paused for a moment as Jake looked back up to your face. “This wasn’t your fault, you would do well to remember that,” she added, touching his shoulder lightly and making her way to the door again, “call me,” she repeated, and left the two of you alone. 
The room was dark when you finally opened your eyes, a small reading light next to your head was the only light in the room, there for the nurses to check charts without disturbing you too much. You vaguely remembered what happened – you had been awake when the ambulance found you, but the anaesthesia had hit you hard, and your head felt groggy as you made an effort to look around. 
You winced as you looked down at your shoulder and expected to see just as bad a bandage on your hand where a tight pressure had set in. Looking down to see Jake’s hand tightly gripping yours, however, his head resting on the bed beside you was not something you had expected, but you were eternally grateful for. 
“J?” you croaked out, your hand twitching a little in his. His head shot up, eyes blinking as he tried to open them again after accidentally falling asleep. They were puffy you noted, you had never known Jake to cry. 
“Oh baby,” he exhaled, rushing to sit up and touch you, both of his hands grasping yours as you shuffled uncomfortably in your bed. “How are you feeling?” “Like I was hit by a car,” you laughed breathily, trying to ignore the pain you felt through your head. Jake couldn’t help but crack a smile,
“Only you could joke at a time like this,” he pondered, not being able to take his eyes away from yours. The two of you sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment. 
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you finally spoke, looking up to the ceiling to avoid his eyes
“Don’t you dare apologise,” he chastised, using that authoritative voice that would scare anyone else, but you had a soft spot for. “I should never have walked out last night, at the very least I should have come back this morning.” “No, you had every right, I said some shitty things.” Jake nodded his head a little in agreement, 
“We both did… When you said you didn’t think I wanted you around-”
“I didn’t mean-”
“No, no it’s fine,” he interrupted you. “It really hurt to think I didn’t make you feel special, or different, that you couldn’t see that I have changed, but you were right. I haven’t done enough to open up to you. I suppose I am not used to having someone around who I can share my thoughts with who won’t run off after a few weeks. But I have changed, and I want you to know that – you changed me, darlin’ and god I’ll be broken if you leave me after it all.” His eyes welled up again, “Jesus I have never cried so much in a month as I have in the last three hours,” he laughed, trying to bite back the tears, you couldn’t help but laugh with him. 
“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” you muttered, glancing down to where he held your hand so securely,
“Never, baby. God never. I would beat my own ass before Penny even had the chance if I let you get away,” he smiled, placing another soft kiss on your wrist. “You’re safe now, with me, and I will never leave you in doubt or hurtin’ again, you hear me?” All you could do was nod as tears formed in your eyes again, his gentle touch helped to wipe them away. 
“I love you,”
“I love you more,” he murmured back to you. “Let me go and get the nurse for you.”
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Tags: @rosiahills22 @memoriesat30 @caffeinatedwoman
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are can you do a Alastor x reader where reader had a hopper focus on Alastors life as a killer and such and when they die they go to hell and they meet al and they are like fanning out over him and Alastor is kind happy about it and reader is like talking about how they listen to his radio shows on repeat it can be romantic or platonic or be read as ether I don’t mind (:
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I love this idea so much! Just two unhinged demons feeding off each other's energy~
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
TW: Murder, Obsession
Description: ⬆️👆
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My snookums
Alastor couldn't even try to be humble about it, soaking up all of your attention and praise with a prideful aura
Husk is so fucking done. He needs a drink
Ngl tho-
He is genuinely mystified and curious as to how you found him out, both in life and death
He was so careful???? The police never found him out so how did some chump fan figure out that he was a serial killer???
Guess he was lucky that you turned out to be a fan and not a snitch
I mean- his handiwork is always beautiful so maybe that's what gave him away
Yeah sure
And then you figure out his identity in HELL and still follow his life like he's a celebrity??
You're making him blush~ Stop it, you~
You know things about him that he himself had forgotten, his earlier days of scrambling for power, his first battles and victories
PLUS you listened to all his radio shows???
Not only are you some sort of genius but you also have great taste 👌
He at least has the decency to blush a little while you fangirl over him and babble about how amazing he is
It's just so good to be properly appreciated
Everyone SHUT UP Y/N is TALKING don't be RUDE
Okay now Vaggie is out
Oh do go on~ He wants to hear more from you~
Would love to hear your early theories about when he was a serial killer, the steps you took to finding him out and what final clue gave him away
Go onnnnnn
Sips tea and kicks his feet when you get to the start of his early afterlife and you begin to figure out who he used to be
Keep goinggggggggg
Is nearly shaking with excitement when you start to theorize where he went for 7 years, nobody has ever granted him this much time and attention
YES
Neither confirms or denies the last part but happily invites you to tag along with him more often
Will literally bring you to places with him just so you can tell everyone around you how amazing he is
What can he say, he likes your style 😉
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I hope you liked it 😘
310 notes · View notes
writingdumpster · 11 months
Text
a little advice
pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
warnings: fingering, oral fem receiving, praise kink
summary: a sequel to “a little help,” accessible as the post before this one or through my navigation, but can be read alone. Sorry it’s not linked. When I put hyperlinks in my posts they don’t go to the tags and idk how to fix that.
Teaching Eddie to make you cum.
word count: 1.4k
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“Well, I want to return the favor,” Eddie said. His hands moved beneath the hem of your skirt, toying with the elastic waistband of your panties. “If you’d give me a little advice.” You grinned.
“Yeah, I’ll give you a little advice.”
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you suggested as you rose off Eddie’s lap. He managed to keep hold of your hand and didn’t let it go as he followed you back to his room. You climbed up onto Eddie’s bed, arranging pillows behind you so you were sat up from the mattress. Eddie watched from the edge of the bed, nervous about what he should do. You pulled your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your underwear to Eddie.
“Do you want to take them off for me?” You asked. Eddie’s eyes lit up. He crawled onto the bed and hooked his fingers around the elastic of your cotton panties. He dragged them down your legs slowly, letting his hands run over your body as he pulled your underwear off. Eddie crumpled them up and tossed them off the side of the bed. He aimed for his laundry pile, hoping you wouldn’t be able to find them later and he’d have a souvenir. He looked up at you with wide eyes.
“What next?” He asked. You smiled at him, unable to contain it. He was so sweet. So loving. So perfect. So Eddie.
“Give me your hand,” you said, reaching out to take his. He let you take his hand in yours. You moved it between your legs. You dragged his fingers through your folds.
“You feel how wet I am?” You asked him.
“Mmhmm,” Eddie withheld a moan.
“That’s all just from sucking your dick, Eds,” you told him. Eddie blushed brightly. He pushed his fingers through your pussy lips, gathering your cum onto them and feeling just how wet you were
“Is this—Is this a lot?” Eddie asked. “It feels like a lot.” You giggled.
“Yeah, Eds, it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this wet before,” you admitted. That pulled a moan from Eddie.
“Tell me what to do, baby,” Eddie begged. “I want to make you feel good.” Your cunt pulsed at his words alone.
“Feel this,” you instructed, moving his fingers to your clit. Eddie rubbed the pads of his fingers over the bud, just trying to learn what exactly he was touching. His fingers moved smoothly, still wet after you’d let him feel what he did to you.
“Mmmmooh,” you moaned involuntarily. Eddie’s eyes flicked up to your face. He started rubbing your clit with a slow, featherlight pressure, but he had you whining nonetheless. You had been aching for Eddie to touch you like this since the day you met him.
“This is your clit?” He asked. You laughed.
“Yes, baby,” you said. “It’s my clit.” Eddie pushed your hand away, still resting over his. You moved it to his shoulder, digging your fingers into the firm muscle there.
“How does this feel?” He asked.
“Press a little harder,” you said. Eddie put a firmer pressure on your clit as he rubbed his fingers back and forth.
“How’s this?” He asked.
“It’s—Ohh—It’s good,” you assured him.
“What else, sweetheart?” He asked. “What feels better?” He asked.
“Try rubbing in circles,” you told him. Eddie started moving his fingers against your clit in a clumsy circle. Your legs kicked against the mattress. Eddie smiled to himself. He was proud that he could bring you pleasure.
“That’s good?” He asked smugly. You gasped, catching your breath as his circles became more and more uniform.
“It’s good, Eds,” you whispered. “Really good.”
“Tell me more, baby,” Eddie requested. “I want to make you cum.” You moaned at his confession.
“Your other hand,” you gasped.
“What about it? What do you want?” He asked. He was growing more and more confident. He was asking for your instructions, but somehow he was in control.
“Your f-fingers—Fuck me with—Oh!” You gasped. Eddie understood what you wanted even through your broken mumblings. He pushed two fingers into you and you whined loudly.
“How do you want me to move them, baby?” He asked sweetly.
“Slow,” you said. “Curl them up,” you told him. Eddie followed your instructions, curling his fingers against you just the way you liked. He made long, slow strokes with his fingers.
“Is that good?” He asked. His fingers were still moving against your clit and you were moving towards your orgasm.
“It—Fuck—It’s good, Eddie,” you assured him. Eddie started moving his fingers faster against your clit, starting to have an intuition of what you needed already.
“What else, baby? What else do you like?” Eddie pushed. You whimpered as you tried to think of something, your mind foggy from the way Eddie was touching you.
“Tell me I’m a good girl,” you pleaded. Eddie grinned widely at this request.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re such a good girl for me,” Eddie praised. “You made me feel so good. You had me so hard without even trying, baby. You’ve got me hard again now,” he told you. You glanced down to his crotch and saw the noticeable bulge in his sweatpants.
“Eddie,” you whimpered weakly.
“My good, good girl,” Eddie cooed. “You’re doing so good telling me what you want.”
“Please,” you gasped.
“Please, what? Help me out here, princess.” Eddie was keeping his aura of dominance. He could see how much you liked it. He liked it plenty himself. But you could also tell he really wanted you to tell him. He was still new despite how quickly he had stepped into the persona of a sex god.
“Fuck me a little faster with your fingers and rub a little faster too,” you begged.
“What if I use my tongue?” Eddie asked. Your eyes widened at this offer.
“Are you sure?” You asked.
“Please,” Eddie insisted. “I want to taste you.” You moaned.
“Yeah,” you said. “Go ahead, but keep fucking me with your fingers, just use your mouth on my clit.” Eddie shifted his body so he could position his mouth over your pussy.
“A little advice?” Eddie requested. You were still a mess of whined and gasps as he continued moving his fingers slowly inside you.
“It’s not g-going to t-take very much,” you admitted. Eddie smirked and kissed your thigh.
“What should I do, baby?” This time Eddie’s voice was soft. His facade had washed away. He just wanted to make you feel good now.
“Focus on my clit, try licking circles around it,” you told him. Eddie didn’t hesitate, diving down and pushing his tongue against you. He moved his tongue down to your folds at first, clearly taking a taste of your sweet center before he moved up to your clit as instructed. You moaned as his tongue began circling your clit, pushing firmly against you.
“Fuck, Eddie!” You reached down and dug your fingers into his curls.
“What else?” Eddie mumbled against your cunt.
“Angle your fingers up a little and suck on my clit,” you begged desperately. Eddie obeyed immediately. It was only another moment before you were falling apart from Eddie’s touch for the first time. You cried out in pleasure. Eddie kept his mouth on you until you pushed him away. He looked down at you with a wild smile on his face. You caught your breath, your mind returning from its haze and a smile fell onto your lips as well.
“That was real, wasn’t it?” Eddie asked. “I made you cum?” You laughed.
“Yeah, Eds, you made me cum,” you assured him. Eddie sighed in relief. He leaned down and kissed you softly.
“Thank you, baby,” he said quietly.
“I need a minute before I take care of you again,” you told him.
“Take care of me?” He asked.
“I thought you got hard again,” you said.
“Oh,” Eddie mumbled shamefully.
“What?” You asked.
“I did but, uh—I sorta…” Eddie stammered. You looked down to his pants and saw the large wet spot that was seeping through the material of his grey sweatpants. You giggled softly. Eddie blushed brightly.
“You’re so fucking cute,” you told him.
“Because I came in my pants?” Eddie questioned incredulously.
“Because of everything,” you said. “I just…really like you,” you said, holding back the word you really meant. Eddie knew what you wanted to say though, and he wasn’t afraid to say it.
“I love you too, baby,” he told you. You grinned.
“You always know what I’m thinking.”
“Will you say it? Please?” Eddie asked. You pressed your lips against Eddie’s firmly, your hand on his cheek. You kept your forehead pressed to his when you pulled away, still cupping his face softly.
“I love you, Eddie Munson. With all my heart.”
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inkedells · 10 months
Note
reader accidentally calling “daddy” dbf!joel !! i wanna know how he reacts 😫 btw i love reading ur stories!! 🫶🏻
A/N: i've been wanting to write this for so long and this request gave me an excuse to sooooo here ya go!
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m!dni | requests open.
tags/warnings: daddy kink (obvs), shy!reader, dbf!joel lovessss dirty talk, like srsly the filthiest dirty talk, grinding, sorta kinda some reeaaaally light humiliation vibes, p in v
masterlist
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The first time you blurted it out, Joel thought he was hearing things.
It was early morning. With your legs twisted into his, you had maneuvered yourself so that you were straddling his thigh as you both lay on your sides. Joel just embraced you, petting your hair and cooing dirty things and sweet things alike as you worked your hips against the warm heat of his skin.
“Mm,” You moaned, gently kissing the column of Joel’s neck as his large hands grabbed your ass and guided the movement of your hips. 
“C’mon, honey, use it. You’re not stopping ‘till my thigh’s soaked.”
Joel removed one of his hands from your backside in favor of stroking himself from beneath the cover of his boxers instead. The way he tented the fabric had you salivating, something primal taking over as you whispered, “Want it…”
Joel noticed the way your eyes were intensely trained on his crotch, and he immediately understood.
“What?” He pulled his cock from its confines, “You wanna fuck this instead?”
You bit your lip and nodded, completely aware of the blush rising to your cheeks.
“I’m not sure you want it bad enough, though,” Joel teased, and you knew immediately what this was about. He wanted to hear dirty, depraved things come out of your mouth. His favorite part about you being vocal was the way your arousal would make you stumble over your sentences and mumble just barely above a whisper as you whined between words.
Maybe it was the intoxication of his scent as you continued to grind against him eagerly, or the way he kept muttering, “I got you,” with every whimper that fell from your lips, but you were suddenly filled with an urge you didn’t know how to stave off.
It came out like a whisper. Something you could’ve easily shrugged off and insisted never happened.
“Daddy… Want it, please...”
The hands that were working your ass over before were now frozen.
You removed your face from the crook of Joel’s neck and looked up at him with hooded eyes as you continued grinding on his thigh.
Joel cracked a crooked smile. “It’s like that, huh?”
You blushed as you nodded hesitantly, hugging Joel tight as he untangled your legs from his own and rolled you onto your back, towering above you as he bracketed your hips with his knees.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna fuck you good and hard and deep, just how his baby needs.”
“Oh god, yes,” You moaned. Joel never took his eyes off you as he slipped off your panties and swiped a finger through your aching, wet folds.
“So fuckin’ wet. Anybody else get you like this?”
“No,” You whispered shakily, hands darting to grip Joel’s wrist as he worked against your pussy in tandem.
“Who? Who do you become a whining, wet, horny little mess for?”
“You, Daddy,” You whimpered, groaning at the loss when Joel pulled his hand away from your pussy in favor of taking his cock out of his boxers.
“Mm, that’s right. Baby’s gonna get fucked real messy now, that alright? Can Daddy stuff this cute little pussy to the brim with his cum?”
You hadn’t even responded yet when Joel suddenly pressed against your entrance with the tip of his cock and entered you in one smooth motion.
"Ruin it, Daddy."
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masterlist
A/N: yeah yeah i know i'm pumping out fics like crazy but i just have a lot of motivation rn so keep the requests coming!! i love u all i'll try to get as many done as possible (before i inevitably crash and don't write anything for a week)
taglist (the rest will be in a reblog, if your name is crossed out i can't tag you):
@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare
@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13
@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams
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witchthewriter · 5 months
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𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
a/n: not a poly relationship - I just decided to have them both in one post. Let me know if you want more xx Also I went through the tags for these guys and there is nothing but SMUT. So I wanted some sweet sfw headcanons for the boys
Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
INTJ
Ravenclaw
Neutral Good
Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising
𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭
・This man is fucking dangerous behind the wheel. And although he is a hot-head occasionally, it isn't when he's driving.
・Simon knows he's shit, so when people honk at him, give him the finger - he just stone-faces it. Let's them berate him because really, he doesn't fucking care.
・However he has lost his licence a few times ... and so you told him he could be your &lt;3 passenger princess <3
・Simon wasn't amused ...
・Very much the protective type, verging on possessive. Not in an abusive way, but he wants everyone to know that you're his. So when anyone flirts with you - or even when they're a little too nice, his jealousy consumes him.
・Scary dog privledges, with and without the mask. This man is intimidating as fuck.
・6'4, wide shoulders and big hands, so it doesn't matter how you look, how tall you are etc - Simon is bigger, taller and stronger.
・Yes he can be a hardass, but when he loves someone, that roughness is somewhat smoothened out. He'd hate to hurt your feelings.
・He only wears his mask to hide his identity; he takes it off when missions are done.
・And when he's home, he rarely wears it.
・Absolutely HATES being jump-scared. And his reflexes take over (you've learnt from the first and last time)
・This goes with random kisses as well, sometimes you just have to make yourself known before touching Simon
・He isn't huge into PDA, but when outside he will gladly hold your hand, bump his shoulder into yours when you make a crappy dad joke.
・The biggest misconception is that he's cold. Well, at work - obviously he is. But at home, with you, he has so much warmth. A lot of life.
・He has great banter. Absolutely has both of you laughing your asses off.
・Calls you "love," "sweetheart," (all in his gruff, chiselled brit accent). And when you're alone, he calls you names like "my love," "hun," "sweet cheeks."
・You're slowly learning about Simon's past, which he shares little by little.
・Too much information and he's scared you might feel overwhelmed and leave him
・There's some deep trauma there, but the army has therapists and everyone gets checked out before they're deemed mentally healthy enough.
・He does want kids, but only after he's done with the military. He would hate to be an absent father in any way. And he wouldn't want you to have that full responsibility.
・A lot of people characterise him as this traumatised man who can barely look after himself. But that is far, faaaaar from the truth. He's very competent. And he eats a LOT. But he also works out (to keep in shape, he actually hates the gym) (also he doesn't expect you to do anything of that stuff. He loves you for you.)
・I also have this headcanon that Ghost/Riley would love Metallica, Slipknot, Black Sabbath etc. It's one of the things that calm him down. However, if he's had an overwhelming day, he needs no noise whatsoever.
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Teases Them (You) x About To End Them (Ghost)
The Moon and His Star
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Opposites Attract
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey
Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier
Enter Sandman by Metallica
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, I bloody mean it. 
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・There's almost like two sides of your s/o. The Ghost side, where the mask stays on, and he's rough, possessive, dominant. And then the Simon side, where he likes soft touches and when you gently stroke his face
・You've both discovered that Simon likes it when you wear his mask, gloves - nothing else - and touch yourself.
・Even with your cum juices on the mask, and gloves, he'll still wear them to work.
・It's the only kinky thing he brings with him while on deployment. You did want to take a naked polaroid for him but he didn't trust the other guys not to somehow see it.
・He likes keeping you as separate from army life as much as possible. Because you feel like home, and it gives him hope.
・Ghost loves taming your bratty side. He's short, demanding and can shut you up with one look.
"Keep on actin' like that, and see what happens."
・Of course you keep acting up, and when you get home, you pay for it tenfold.
・Ghost's hands are as big as a paddle, and when he has you over his knee, ass up in the air. He doesn't hesitate in leaving red marks (all consensual. He wouldn't do anything without having a conversation before hand).
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
ISTP
Hufflepuff
Chaotic Good
Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising
𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠
・A 6'10 king, who suffers from social anxiety but has this soft, silly side that he loves showing you and only you (I will take no criticisms on his height. It is LAW. My law.)
・Because of his anxiety, social aspects of life are much harder than work. He's highly skilled in combat, and has a lot of confidence in his abilities to accomplish missions.
・However, when you tried to speak to him, all he could do was stutter.
・You allowed him to get the words out, but he was an absolute mess afterwards and went to go train.
・But this didn't deter you in the slightest. Hell, you had been trying to muster the courage to speak to him for weeks...
・It took a while for Konig to open up about his past, especially his adolescence.
・He's told you the jist of it, but there's details that you don't push him on.
・One of your favourite pastimes together is going to bakeries and eating the most delicious pastries.
・When you're feeling down, or there's something to celebrate, there's no cake but pastries instead
・Doesn't mind animals, but understands that when he's away you will get a bit lonely. So you surprised him by getting a pair of kittens!
・You showed him over video chat, one white kitten and one black.
"I haven't chosen names for them yet, but I thought maybe you could have some input?"
"Schatz! The kittens are cute but you have scratch marks all over your arms!"
"They're very playful!" And then you leant closer to the camera and whispered, "I leave scratches on your back ..." And with an innocent look on your face, you watched as Konig shivered.
・Likes to put you on his lap when he's cleaning weapons, or getting the marks out of his mask or shoes. Okay honestly, he just wants you on his lap all the time. Whatever excuse he can come up with - he'll goddamn use it
・Absolutely loves Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks. He thinks they have such a beautiful sound that you can find him with headphones on, swaying in the bedroom, silently in his feels
・All your pet names are in Austrian/German:
"Schatz", meaning 'treasure'.
"Maus," meaning 'mouse.'
"Liebling" meaning 'darling.'
"Hase" meaning 'bunny'.
"Liebe" meaning 'love.'
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Konig)
The Gomez & Morticia Adams
I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (You) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (Konig)
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Hidden Identity & Forced Proximity
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush
The Chain by Stevie Nicks
Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary (he loves movie scores as well. It's one of his fascinations).
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.
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・Konig is a bit awkward at first with the sexual interactions you guys have. He does have anxiety, but also, the build up of sexual tension had been going on for months.
・All he had during that time was his hands and the memories of how you looked, the way your eyes met his then flicked downward - almost like you had x-ray vision.
・There was no denying the heat.
・So when you first hooked up it was a fumbling mess of grunting, clothes ripping and fast hands trying to touch and grab at any bare piece of flesh.
・You did have a shocking revelation that first time however. Because this man's cock is not only thick, veiny but nearly 9 inches when he's hard.
・That first time wasn't a true first time as the look on your face told Konig everything - you weren't ready for that part of him ... just yet.
・Loves when you ride his thigh; they're absolutely huge. Just muscled and bulky and the first time you saw them (without the uniform) you audibly gasped.
・His body is absolutely divine
・Like it had been sculpted by the gods. Large biceps, long legs, small waist, large shoulders. His hands wrap your neck perfectly.
・You feel so safe with him.
・And you have to remind him that, because sometimes he worries he could hurt you without meaning to.
"I'm a grown up, Konig. I can handle myself."
"So when are you going to let me fuck you?"
"mmm... I think I still have to get used to that. Maybe we can do fingers first..." (his fingers are ... fucking huge).
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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months
Note
Hi there ! Can I request Natasha Romanoff x reader smut? I thought maybe Natasha x virgin!reader first time OR it can just be Nat’s and reader’s first time. (Please make it super soft🥺🥺)
Okay but anon that idea is literally so cute wtf 😖💗 this is shorter than I intended it to be but I hope you enjoy it regardless 
Sidenote: mалыш means baby in Russian (to the best of my knowledge) 
Taking It Slow (Natasha Romanoff x reader)
Warnings: SMUT, afab reader, reader is a virgin, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of a safeword (although it's never used), soft top Natasha, bottom reader 
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"Are you sure you're ready for this?" 
Natasha's brow was furrowed with concern as she leaned over you on the bed, gently brushing your hair from your face. 
"Yeah, I'm sure." You looked up into her loving eyes, knowing she would take care of you. "Just...take it slow, okay?" 
"Of course, mалыш." She pressed a soft and loving kiss to your lips before working her way down the rest of your body. Your jawline, neck, collarbone, none of it went untouched. She kept going until she got down to your thighs, where she settled herself between them. 
"If at anytime you want me to stop, just let me know, okay? Do you remember our safeword?" 
You nodded your head yes, to which Natasha clicked her tongue at you. "Honey, I need verbal confirmation if you want this to happen." 
"Yeah, I remember it," you said, anticipation building. 
"Good. Use it whenever you want to stop, okay? I don't want your first experience to be an uncomfortable one." 
"Okay, I will." 
Satisfied with your response, she began leaving kisses on the inside of your thigh. Occasionally you felt her nip at your skin, a sign that she was gently marking you up, leaving hickeys wherever her mouth would go. 
You sighed contentedly before letting out a series of soft moans as she moved her mouth from your thighs to your glistening pussy. She pressed gentle kisses on the sensitive area, and you could feel her smirk against your skin when you let out a sudden gasp at her lips moving up to your clit. 
She was toying with you, and you knew it; but you loved it regardless. 
You felt as she pressed feather light kisses to your clit, giving you just enough friction to feel it but not nearly enough to be able to properly get you off. 
As much as you wanted to grind up against her face, you knew you had to remain patient if you wanted to be able to truly enjoy this. You had waited this long, surely you could wait a little bit longer. Still, Natasha no longer teasing you and just getting on with it would certainly be nice.
"Nat, please." You whined, your hand going to rest on her head lightly. 
"Oh, sweetheart." She peered up at you from between your legs, a visible smirk on her face. "I suppose I have been teasing you a little too much, huh? Let me fix that." 
Before you could ask her what she meant by that, you felt her move her tongue along your already wet folds, eliciting a moan from you so loud your neighbors could definitely hear it.
At least she wasn't teasing you anymore, but that still meant you had a long night ahead of you. 
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Likes < reblogs | PLEASE REBLOG if you like what you read
Main masterlist | MCU masterllist | wanna be added to my taglist?
🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @gilmore-angel @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream @whistle1whistle @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @truthindreams-blog1 @the-nightowl-blr @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)
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