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wolkoshka · 25 days

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Paranormal II

summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 2/3

an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.

"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."

Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.

Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.

"So what happened?"

"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.

You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.

"Did he fall for it?"

"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."

"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"

"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."

"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."

"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"

Your friend chuckled.

Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.

Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.

A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.

You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.

Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!

Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!

Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!

When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.

"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."

Your head perked. "We will?"

Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?

You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.

"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.

"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.

"We're not peepin'." You.

Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.

"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.

Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?

You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.

As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.

You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"

"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"

You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.

There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.

Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.

His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.

"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.

You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."

Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."

Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.

Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.

When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.

For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.

When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.

What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.

Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.

Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.

Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.

A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.

To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.

Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.

You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.

Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.

Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.

It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.

But you...

The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.

He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.

Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.

Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.

Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.

God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.

It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.

What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.

He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.

He shouldn't be caring for it either.

He should walk away now. But...

The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -

You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.

What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.

Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.

"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.

He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.

Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.

If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.

You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.

A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.

Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?

He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.

Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.

Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.

Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.

His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.

He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.

It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.

Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.

He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.

So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.

Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.

He wouldn't survive it.

And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.

Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.

Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.

A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."

"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.

You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."

Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.

His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.

He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."

He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.

A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.

"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."

Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.

"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.

"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."

"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."

He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.

You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"

"I'll live, poppy."

Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.

Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.

His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.

His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four se -

Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.

His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.

"Properly thank me how?"

Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.

His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"

He fuckin' loved biscuits.

"Yes. With tea?"

Hell, he loved that more.

He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"

A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.

Growled.

You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."

In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.

Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.

He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.

"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.

He breathed in deep, pulling focus.

Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.

You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.

And now he was turning into a bloody poet.

If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.

He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.

It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.

His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.

You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.

So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.

He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.

"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."

You pressed the green one.

A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.

Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.

Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.

You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.

Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.

The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.

Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.

"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"

Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.

He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.

There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.

This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.

You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.

Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.

Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.

All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.

You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.

You still did not look at him.

Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.

Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.

In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.

Then, so softly, you said his name.

"Simon."

His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.

You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.

"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."

Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Johnny," you murmured.

"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"

Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.

"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."

He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"

A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.

You shrugged. "Yeah."

He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.

But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"

You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.

He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.

Focus, soldier.

His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.

No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.

"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.

"What's wrong with it?"

Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."

Pleasant? That's a new one.

But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.

"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.

"Well, I think you're wrong."

Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?

You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.

The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.

Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.

You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.

Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"

A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.

"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.

Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.

"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"

You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.

Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.

A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.

Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.

"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.

Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.

"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.

Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.

"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.

At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.

Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.

The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.

God, you were hot against him. Burning up.

Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.

Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.

Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.

"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.

You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.

Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.

You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.

His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.

Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.

A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.

"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "

That did it.

With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.

His weight suffocated you into the mattress.

You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.

His ire flared, his desire, even more so.

"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."

You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.

The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.

It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.

Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.

Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."

"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.

You nodded eagerly.

Yes.

He cursed under his breath.

Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"

You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."

"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."

You keened at the warning. "Promise?"

At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.

So be it. You would learn your lesson.

"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.

an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨

suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.

on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨

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mitch-the-silly · 3 months

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(Left under the Lucifer one-shot!)

AND I SHALL DELIVER!! Just had to think where I was taking this, but I think I'm satisfied with this part 2!! I absolutely adore throwing biblical canon into the Helluva verse. It rejuvenates me!

Had to put on "He Is" for this one. You know the Lucifer content gon' be good when I tune in to Ghost-

Lucifer and gn!Fallen Angel!reader

Scenario!

"Brother in Falling" Pt.2

Part 1

You stared at him as he spoke. It had been so long since you’d seen Lucifer. Matter of fact, you’d far forgotten what he was like. You didn’t really interact with him much during his time in Hevaen and it had been years since Heaven banished him. He seemed so… gentle. This was the “bringer of evil” that Heaven so warned you about. Drinking coffee, talking about his daughter and how he wanted to be more involved in her life. You felt lied to by heaven. He was just a guy, a nice one at that.

“What about you, you got anyone? Or had…?” He asked, hoping he wasn’t picking a any unhealed scars.

“Me? Well… I had a couple of friends, sir. But they turned their heads to me when I fell.” You replied, taking a sip from the coffee he’d made you. It was quite good if you said so yourself.

“Oh, you don’t have to call me that. I’m not really your sir… But uh… What did you do when you were in heaven?” He spoke, curiously posing query.

“I was just a measly guard at the court… Nothing too important… But you… you were The Moring Star! I mean, I owe you that respect. You were once God’s favorite.” You replied.

“Well, what can I say? I did what I could! Guess they thought I was too revolutionary for them, but joke’s on them! I’m not doing half as bad! Haha!” He laughed, somehow giving off the vibe that he was forcing himself to feel this way.

“They wasted your talent. You’re a great person, Lucifer.” You spoke sincerely.

“T-thank you… I… I haven’t heard that in some time…” He chuckled, oddly proud to have received that compliment.

“No problem!” You smiled softly.

“H-hey uh, I know I mentioned presenting you to my daughter, Charlie. But, There’s protocol in place in acase of another fallen angel. It’s just been… eons since someone else has fallen… I know I’m technically The Only One, but I was an archangel, they just undermined the six the followed me down here.” He explained, huffing at the end.

“Protocol? What do you mean by that?” You asked, lifting your guard just a little bit.

“Well, Uh… techinchally when a new angel falls, we need to hold a meeting because you’re uhh… a new powerful force in Hell. Even more than any naturally occurring being in any of the Seven Rings. We didn’t do it with Vaggie, because she was an exterminator, and they’re sort of at the bottom of the chain. When I found out she was a fallen angel, I just advised her not to point the weapon at everyone that crosses her path. Not like she actually stopped doing it, but eh, bureaucracy. Regardless, you’re a first choir angel, an uhh…” He stared at your form for a moment scanning for any sign on of what class you belonged to. Unable to tell, he blushes in embarrassment, feeling that he came off as weird for staring at you. “Sorry, uh, what class are you?” He asked, looking away in embarrassment.

“A Throne. I’m a throne… Or was…” You replied in a mumble.

“No no, it’s ok. You don’t have to deny it if you don’t want to. You can be whatever you want, I’m sure not gonna tell you anything, and I’m sure not gonna let anyone tell you anything.” He chuckled. “But yeah, You’ll find some of us have rejected or kept our respective titles as we’ve pleased. I mean, shit, I may not be in heaven, but I’m still a Seraph!” He laughed, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you, Lucifer.” You replied. You were already more welcome here than anywhere else in Heaven. It warmed your heart that you were somewhere where with beigs who appreciated you.

“Either way, you’re a Throne and that might throw off the power balance Hell has, considering that unlike sinners, you can go wherever you want in Hell and, shit… you’re more powerful than some of the Sins… But that’s besides the point! The point is, there’s a bureaucracy I have to follow when it comes to this. It’s just a brief meeting about uh… what was it again…? Uhh… well, your place in Hell and the denizens of your area… oh but all the rings are… full uh… welp! That’s what the meeting’s for! Just to uh, determine your place in the hierarchy.” Lucifer explained, giving you a weak smile. He wasn’t too sure in himself, and you could tell. Seemed like he was going through a rough patch.

“Right… uh… but hierarchy? I don’t… well, I’d be lying if I sad I didn’t wanna, but I don’t think I’m uh… suited to just be put into a leadership position in a hierarchy that has existed for eons and eons. Are you sure about this…?” You asked, clutching your coffee mug.

“Well, the meeting is to figure all of that out! You should bring that up when it happens.” He explained. “Excuse me, I have to make a couple of phone calls…” He added, letting out a small chuckle, getting up from the chair that he sat in. He walked off to a corner; you could hear all of his conversation anyway, but at least he made the effort to politely move to the side.

“Hey! Mammon! So, I’ve got some news! A new angel fell! Uh… We need to hold a meeting and- Yeah know your time is money, but unless you want me to really make you pay taxes as you should be doing, you’re gonna make this government work!… Yeah, Good to know you’re coming, I’ll text you the schedule when I get everyone on board. Yeah, bye to you too.” He sighed, hanging up, and dialing another number.

“Satan! Hey, so uh, I have some crazy news. A new angel fell, and we need a meeting as soon as possible. You’re busy? You missed the annual meeting earlier this year, you’re not missing out on this one! It’s an emergency, don’t make me threaten you like I did Mammon a minute ago…. No I’m not telling you which of the three Choirs they belonged to until we set foot in that meeting room…Good, I’ll get you the schedule when I have it. Yeah, yeah, you grumpy bastart.” He sighed.

You stared at him in confusion despite knowing exactly what he was doing. You knew he was invoking the other 7 Sins to the meeting. You simply sat there uncomfortably, sort of fidgeting with the mug. He noticed this, and before dialing, he walked towards you, giving you a gentle smile.

“Hey… It’s ok. If you think you’re being a burden, you’re not. This is a grand occasion! Charlie, went and stirred up Heaven. You being here is a victory for a new and better world!” He reassured you, continuing the dialing of the next phone call.

“Hey! Ozzie! Yeah, I know I rarely call you anymore, but guess what?” He began.

You couldn’t help but wonder what everyone else had become. You’d seen these seven virtuous angels fall and become the Seven Sins. Of course, they were all driven by their own desire to pursue their respective sins, but it seemed Lucifer’s pride was more on his work. He didn’t seem to have bad intentions either way…

“Yeah yeah, thanks Ozzie, you’re great! Bye!” Lucifer smiled as he hung up. “He’s the only one who never misses out on meetings. The real problem is getting Beelphegor to attend… He is the sin of Sloth…” He joked at you, looking for the next number to dial.

You continued to drink your coffee thinking of what was to come. When Lucifer was done with all the phone calls, he turned to you. “So, I haven’t given them a meeting time, but I’d rather give you some time to adjust. Uhh, in two days sounds fine?” He asked, ready to put it in his calendar.

“Oh, uh, s-sure…” You replied, brushing the feathers on your wings. Wincing at the broken appendages.

Lucifer gave you a slight look, frowning at the sight of your small show of pain. “Hey, if you wanna, I can take you to the hotel now. You need some rest…” He suggested, putting his phone in his pocket.

You nodded gently, “You must be annoyed with me saying thank you, but… You’ve been nothing but kind to me since I got here… And I… put a hole through your roof…” You sighed, pouting in a bit of frustration towards yourself.

“I already said you’re not a burden… Plus, us fallen angels have to look after each other.” He smiled.

It wasn’t long until you two arrived at the hotel. He refused to fly and show himself publicly (not to mention you couldn’t fly anyway.), so the limo it was. The car ride was full of chit-chat between the both of you. A warm feeling overwhelmed you as you spoke to him. You hadn’t spoken to someone this genuine in a long time. Perhaps being sent here was the best thing that happened to you…

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader

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marthawrites · 1 year

Text

A Game of Chase

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 5.7k+

Can be read as a stand alone, but reads best as pt 2 to Pretty Girl

About: You and your best friend go out to a local event. While there, Aemond, surprisingly, makes an appearance. With quick wit you pretend like it's your first time meeting. Equally quick and curious, he plays along. A game of chase ends up with some unexpected aftershocks.

Includes: About half plot and porn. Explicit sexual content! Rough!Aemond with themes of jealousy, possessiveness, and obsession. Sexual/tension, fingering, blowjob, p in v, and a sweet ending.

Note: Hello lovely reader! I had to return to this AU - just had to! One day I will learn to not be a wordy bitch but today is not that day. Reader is nondescript and implied to be 21+ due to alcohol consumption. As always, it is my highest hope that you enjoy this story! ♥

The city below sparked with life in every corner and lane. You leaned on the balcony's railing and looked over the last remains of sunset: spilled watercolors across a slowly dimming sky. As the last rays of sun disappeared, spring's chill swirled through the air making you wish you wore a jacket over your black evening dress.

"Christ. If we're out here any longer my nipples are gonna jab through this dress," your best friend, Rebecca, said with a noticeable shiver. "Shit, girl! Let's go inside." She hooked an arm through yours and turned to guide you both inside where it was much warmer. She looked gorgeous tonight in a mauve dress, silver heels, and silver jewelry. It all accented the lovely hue of her hair and skin; strands of hair loose to frame her classic face. Her seemingly effortless femininity always had you jealous. She was much more "girly girl" than you, and you relied on her often.

"No leather jackets and no jeans! And oh my God none of your combat boots! This is a formal event. Not one of your creepy bonfire circles with gas station beer." Rebecca had told you earlier with a dramatic roll of her eyes, humor clear on her face. "Who knows. Maybe you'll find someone to put your last hook up to shame," she winked.

There was no way you weren't going to tell her about Aemond. Except, much to her dismay, you didn't tell her tell her; just the bare bones of it. You met a guy through work, hit it off, and ended up getting laid after he took you out.

She wanted the deets. You were keeping your mouth shut. She hated you.

You didn't even mention his name! With it being unique you knew she'd do some serious digging – and you already did. Local cryptids had a bigger digital footprint than him. Considering the day and age, maybe it should have been a red flag… Bec wouldn't let you live that down.

"Will you shut up about that?" You laughed. "Okay okay. I'll skip my favorite jacket and boots too. Only, and only, because I just got a fresh pedi. You can take my lipstick and eyeliner out of my cold dead hands though," you threatened.

"Those are your trademarks and we both know it. Besides, you look hot with it. Black dress and… black heels too. Your strappy ones!" You let her pick your outfit. When it was time to leave you looked good.

Bec was the only person who could play with you like a human barbie. You two went through high school together – and all the awkwardness that brought – and even college. You'd been through thick and thin and you loved her more than anyone else. You two even used each other to learn how to kiss. A truly fun and silly experience in hindsight.

This event happened twice a year. Music was huge in the area. More specifically, classic music. The university had one of the best programs in the country and was widely respected for it. At a young age your love for the violin blossomed into something truly spectacular. While it fell to the back burner during college, it remained a cherished hobby. Bec's skill was her voice. It earned her lead soprano. She was ethereal. Listening to her in the choir – whether part of the group, doing a solo, or singing with any of the other leads – was something to behold.

"I'm so glad you were able to come out tonight. It just wouldn't be the same without you," you told her as you both walked away from the bar with drinks in hand.

"Trust. I wouldn't miss it. Hubs can handle things for one night," she laughed even as her eyes rolled in feigned annoyance. She smirked and sipped her beverage.

Everyone seemed to be dressed in their finest. Dresses, suits, and glittering jewelry sparkled beneath the ornate lighting. Various perfumes and colognes hung in the air to create an atmosphere of intimacy. Some of the attendees looked young enough to have just graduated high school while others were grayed and wrinkled with time. The common thread of everyone was their love for music. It was truly a treat.

"I'm constantly shocked at how young the freshmen look every year. Look at them. Babies!" You exclaimed, tilting your head in the direction of a small group of friends who probably couldn't even buy alcohol yet. It prompted you to your drink; an accidental gulp instead of a sip.

In the theme of the event, music played over the speakers which seemed to bring everyone closer.

You two made your way to a bar table by the facade window. The soft lighting and twinkling accents brought out a pink in both of your cheeks that only fine liquor could coax.

"I wish you'd tell me more about your mystery man! Honestly I'm starting to think it was that cute coworker of yours who I like to make eyes at. He's a blusher! You know you could tell me if it was him, right?" She teased you easily.

You gasped. "Oh, wow! You truly have so little faith in me? I wouldn't hook up with your boyfriend," you laughed, unable to keep your mock shock up for long. "You know, it's starting to be more fun holding this over your head than actually giving you all the dirty details." You chased the thin straw of your drink, flashing her a tauntingly playful expression.

She'd just opened her mouth to retort when something else caught her attention. "Oh my God no way," she slammed her free hand atop the table in surprise. "I didn't think he'd come! Here I thought he was way too cool and too busy to make an appearance."

You snorted a laugh as Bec started waving an arm to beckon him over. "Another boyfriend? Sheesh." You teased. She was happily married and you only liked to flick her shit.

"Hey! Yeah, you! I'm so glad you came. Come over here and meet my girl. Y/N, this is Aemond. Aemond, this is Y/N."

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

Bec kept talking, explaining how she knew both of you. You, her best friend since high school. Him, a piano enthusiast who'd taken the university's classes multiple times purely for pleasure. Her voice droned. You heard none of it. Not with Aemond standing there, hand in one of his pockets, drink in the other, looking like that.

Was it even legal for a man to look so fucking good? He looked absolutely stunning. The three-piece suit he donned had to be specially tailored for him because there was no way a regular suit could fit him like that. Black, charcoal, and deep green; it made his naturally silver-white hair and fair skin all the more stark. The subtle pinstripes of his pants and coat elongated his already tall frame, and the tip of his pointed shoes were in a single direction: you.

With Bec introducing, you had fleeting seconds to decide how you'd react to this. "Aemond," you said his name like it was the first time you'd tested it on your tongue. "Nice to meet you.” You sipped to hide smirking lips. Quiet mischief danced behind your eyes. ‘Play with me,’ they said. ‘You feeling it?’ they taunted.

“Hmm,” Aemond hummed while looking over you like he might have recognized you from somewhere. “I thought perhaps we had a class together. But, I don’t think so. Those aren’t pianist hands,” he said, tiny dimples betraying his restrained smirk.

“Ha!” Bec all but snorted. “No. No no no. She does not. She’s a ranger of our lovely national park and she plays the fiddle for Bigfoot.”

Aemond blinked, taken back.

“What the hell, Bec!” You blushed, embarrassment waving up in you like a tide. “You can’t just go telling people that all willy-nilly!” Despite the embarrassment, you laughed, as did Rebecca, and some of the palpable tension between you and Aemond melted. Perhaps she’d done you two tricksters more of a favor than you realized.

“This is Bigfoot country, is it not? I’m into cryptids,” Aemond replied smoothly. “Wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it tonight. But, now I’m glad I did,” he added in that same tone, taking an extra moment to glance over you appreciatively. “Becca’s hard to miss, but it was you who called me over here from across the floor.”

You arched a brow at his forwardness. “Wow. Uhm… I didn’t notice you at all,” you quipped cheekily before taking the last swill of your beverage.

Bec rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Aemond. You’re gonna have to try harder than that. My girl here isn’t quite so easy.”

A genuine smile flashed across his features to brighten his eye. “Right. I’ll have to try harder for that one,” he said amusingly.

“Well. I feel a second one calling my name. Catch you later, Becs,” you said before turning, doing your absolute best (and somehow succeeding) to not flick another glance to the Targaryen tech giant who stood tall and wonderfully imposing next to your best friend. Would he still smell like clean laundry as he did the last time you two were together? Or would he perhaps carry the faintest aromas of shared perfumes, cigarette smoke, and cool night spring air? You dared not glance over your shoulder. You couldn’t be certain, but you swore his gaze trailed after you until you disappeared into the crowd.

An hour passed and you didn’t see either of them. The crowd was growing looser; people mingled like old friends. Karaoke replaced the overhead music and with it brought a fresh batch of excitement and silliness. The entire vibe of the place slowly shifted and you found yourself happily chatting with strangers like they were long lost college, or even high school, friends.

It was during that occasion you finally caught sight of him again. You were buzzed – happy – talking to a dark haired man with a dazzling smile. Each time he did his entire face lit up and sent the corners of his eyes crinkling. He was playing the charm game very well. If you didn’t already have secret plans to leave with Aemond, he very well might have talked you out of your pretty black dress. Aemond didn’t know that, of course, and when you could still see him at the edge of your peripheral you knew the little game just went up a notch.

Another hour passed in the blink of an eye. Bec had to leave – turns out her hubs couldn’t handle everything on his own for a night. The dark-haired man, while attractive and sweet, wasn’t what you had in mind. Once you finally managed to slide away from him you sat at the bar. You’d been standing most of the night and your feet were starting to ache in the heels you rarely wore. The bartender handed you your final drink for the night. You sat alone. Relaxed. Content to people watch as the event resembled more of a high-end bar at this hour.

Again, from the corner of your eye, you saw Aemond linger just there. Just at the edge of your vision. Playing. Teasing – a silent stalk. However, you pretended like you didn’t. You slowly traced the rim of your glass, attention elsewhere. With one leg crossed over the other you leisurely bounced your foot at the ankle, the heel of your shoe tapping against the heel of your foot. Quiet. Confident. Even if Aemond hadn't already known you he would have been drawn to you. It was the tiny knowing smirk at the outermost edge of your mouth that really called to him. ‘I see you,’ it said. ‘What are you going to do?’ it purred.

“Is this seat taken?” Aemond’s smooth voice came from beside you.

With a shake of your head you answered, “it wasn’t. But I think it is now.” Your pretty eyes lingered over him and you just now noticed the three headed dragon tassel he wore on his collar. The buttons of his cuffs were the same three headed dragon. Half of his hair was pulled back and secured into a bun at the back of his head, and you wanted nothing more than to loosen it and let the strands fall over your hand.

“Good,” he all but purred, leaning in a little closer than was truly necessary. “Hm… I don’t know what it is about you, pretty girl, but there’s something about you that keeps pulling me in.”

“Bold of you to say to someone you’ve just met,” you replied through a laugh, giving him a sly side glance from beneath your lashes.

“Perhaps,” he said quickly, leaning on the bar as he stood between you and the empty stool at your side. “But, I think you’ve been eyeing me all night too. Unable to truly lose track of me in this crowd,” his voice was a low rumble and it sent a shudder of excitement all up and down your spine.

“What makes you think that? This is the first time I’ve seen you since Bec introduced us. Honestly, I thought you left.”

He chuffed amusedly. “Sure, okay,” he started. “Is that why you can’t quite look me in the eyes? Or why you let that man paw all over you once you knew I was there? Or… why you only came here once it was empty and I was there?” He tilted his head slightly, just slight, as he spoke; smug condescendence angled his jaw.

It took everything you had to steady the excitement in your voice. “You’re very observant, Aemond,” his name dripped like honey from your tongue. “What do you plan to do with all those observations, hm?”

“Lots,” he answered lowly, triumphantly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Giddiness bubbled up from your core. Before you could stop yourself, you answered, “no. I don’t think so.” The change of his expression filled you with victory. This was your game and you were still playing by your own rules even if that meant making them up as you went. “Here is my offer, Mr. Targaryen. I’m leaving. You will give me your number and if I’m feeling up to it, I’ll text you my address.” The pupil of his good eye expanded; black swallowing violet. You wanted to cheer. He wasn’t expecting this, you thought. “Take it or leave it. If you leave it… I have another number to fall back on.”

“Give me your phone,” he said, posture and jaw tight. You did. He tapped his thumbs a few times on the screen before handing it back.

As soon as you had your phone back you stood. “That’s what I thought,” you told him softly, smugly, not giving him a chance to reply before walking towards the exit.

Game over. You won.

Truthfully you would have left with him immediately, but your house was a mess and you weren't going to invite him over to this. It took perhaps twenty minutes to give the entry way, living room, and kitchen a quick clean sweep. From there, it took maybe half the time to shove everything out of place in your bedroom in your closet. You’d properly tidy later. But now? No. The only thing on your mind was the look on Aemond’s face when you laid out your terms for the night.

You texted him your address and nothing else. Now, it was your turn to wait.

Barely ten minutes passed before a knock sounded at your door. Peeking out from behind a curtain you saw it was Aemond. A secret smile plastered on your face and you wondered what he’d been doing for the last half hour. It took at least fifteen minutes to get to the event hall, so he must have already been out driving in the general direction. Either that, or, he broke every traffic rule to get to you in record time. You opened the door only to be shoved back inside, door slamming closed behind both of you. A sound between a gasp and strangled moan broke from you beneath his kiss as his hands were all all over you at once; sliding, groping, pressing.

“Did you have fun with your little game?” He asked hot against your mouth. You were trapped between the back of your couch and his looming form. The furniture was the first thing to get in the way of your eager bodies.

Your breath shuddered, chest rising and falling above the black neckline of your dress. “Aemond,” you managed to whisper hoarsely. Nothing else formed on your tongue before it was against Aemond’s for a second time.

“I could have had that entire fucking hall dismissed in an instant. You know that, right?” You didn’t ask how or why because you didn’t fucking care. Not now. Not with his mouth on yours, and his hands squeezing your hips and waist, his thigh between your legs. “And then you force me to stalk you around the crowd. Watch you flirt so easily with other men. Watch weaker men stare after you like sniveling piglets.” His teeth sunk into your neck until you yelped, body squirming against his.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, head buzzing with a hundred different things all at once. Heat flooded your core. Thrill webbed throughout all your senses until you were keenly aware of even the tips of your fingers, toes, and ears. He bit again, softer this time, making his way down the length of your neck to your collarbone. “I didn’t think you’d play along for as long as you did,” you simpered, hands rubbing up the sides of his smooth face until your fingers were tangled in his silken hair.

Both his hands pressed up your ribs until the weight of your breasts sat upon them. You couldn’t see from your angle, but he was biting and sucking little hickeys all down your skin. “Do you think that dark-haired man would have tried as hard as he did… pathetic, really… if you were already marked by my teeth, hm?” As if to make his point even clearer, he drew in a mouthful of your soft cleavage and worked it until you yelped, forcefully pulling his head back with a wet pop. A dark bruise was already forming; the deepest one yet.

“What the hell? You’re fucking crazy,” you moaned, breathlessly looking down at him, arousal turning your blood to fire. “Is that what this is about? Me flirting with that guy?” Your face bloomed with heat.

“If I knew you were going to be there you’d have been on my arm the whole night. Fun as it was, pretty girl, I wanted to gouge the eyes out of every man who looked at you for too long.” He was hard inside his pants, painfully trapped inside the confines of the fine material.

Aemond didn’t strike you as the possessive type. It shocked you. Even scared you a little. “Holy shit, Aem,” you said, trying to catch your breath from the assault of his hands, mouth, and intentions. “I just thought we were having fun. With you only being here for a visit I didn’t think it was anything serious, ya know? Fuck.” Your hands fell from his hair to instead push yours back.

“At first I thought so too,” he replied, voice and body language softer now. “I was immediately drawn to you. As soon as you opened the door at your ranger cabin in your dorky uniform...,” he kissed you again, gentle and easy. He felt you melt into and against him. “Distance doesn’t matter to me. In another time my family would be kings,” he smirked, holding your face between his hands to read it.

“If you are a king or a prince –” you teased, playfully mocking the old timey titles, “ – then let me be your queen or your princess.” Your hands trailed down the sides of his biceps, across the front of his chest, down the plane of his abdomen. His intensity could surely frighten other women away, but you found yourself drawn to it. A fire burned beneath his skin and you wanted nothing more than to feel its heat against your own.

Aemond read you well, eyes squinting down at you as you traced and caressed over his clothed form. Something in his gaze shifted, then. A game of his own, you recognized.

His turn.

“Would he have been able to excite you like this?” Your dress had bunched up high around your thighs and he took full advantage of it. With his question he trailed the tips of his fingers over the front of your clothed cunt. Your warmth tingled his fingertips. “Could he have gotten this pussy so wet?” He asked, slipping his touch beneath the front of your panties to your bare folds. “Hm?” He inquired, the pads of two easily sliding up your slit and to your clit where he rubbed small, firm circles. You were soaked.

You jolted, legs tightening. “Aem…,” you warbled, back arching. Your body was desperate for him. One of your hands lowered to the wrist he was using to tease you, eyes looking up at him in a silent plea. “No,” you answered. “He couldn’t.” You squeezed your hand around his wrist, then, urging his fingers to slide into you.

A satisfied growl rumbled in his throat at the combination of your admission and grip. “I didn’t think so…,” he cooed, following your touch as he pushed a long slender finger into your body. “I missed this pussy,” he admitted, bending his head to catch your pleased sigh in a kiss. He swirled and pressed along your walls, reveling in the way you felt around him and the muffled sounds you made.

By now your alcohol buzz was gone and you were entirely drunk on Aemond. He spun you in a whirlwind and you were at his mercy. It was when he pushed a second finger into you that you broke the kiss, unable to hold back the moan he pulled from you. “They feel so good…,” Aemond-drunk and pleasure-drunk; the night was just beginning.

“There,” he said as your eyes fluttered and struggled to stay even half open. “Cum on these fingers so we can take this pretty dress off.” He pumped both in and out of you with added fervor, now, relishing just how fucking wet you were. There was no denying or hiding the sloppy little sounds that came from between your thighs. Those, mixed with your continued pleasured whimpers, made for a delicious melody that made Aemond’s cock throb.

“O-oh..! Right there, just like that! Please…,” you whispered as if in prayer. Your hand squeezed tighter around his wrist as he fucked his fingers into you at that same wonderful angle and pace. Even without your pleas he could tell you were close. Your cunt squeezed around him a little tighter, hips squirming, grinding down on his hand for added pressure. You dipped your head into his chest, hips rolling with his pace, and it was when he squeezed a third inside you that you absolutely lost it. Orgasm washed over you in lovely waves of bliss. You trembled; walls clamped around him rhythmically. You panted. Blissed out and ready for another.

As soon as you came down from your natural high Aemond helped you out of your clothes. Dress, bra, panties. They were all tossed aside somewhere in your living room.

Then, it was your turn to help him out of his own clothing. “Fuck, you have beautiful tits,” he said as he stood in front of you in only his briefs. He bent down to lick and kiss over them appreciatively, holding the soft mounds in his hands.

You giggled at the tickling sensation it gave your sensitive skin. “My room is down this way,” you said with a tilt of your head, taking his hand and leading him through the kitchen, down a short hallway, and into your room. It was only illuminated by an essential oil diffuser which glowed with a soft pink. It steadily misted with a heady mix of oils.

Once there it was your turn to have your hands all over him. You trailed along every bit of him that you could. From his shoulders, to his arms, across the patch of hair along the center of his chest, and down his lean abdomen, until your fingers hooked beneath the hem of his briefs. You pushed him further into your room until the backs of his legs hit the outside of your bed.

Sitting on the edge he pulled you to him by your waist, coaxing you to stand between his parted legs. He unabashedly bit into the meat of your hip. One of his hands reached behind you to squeeze your asscheek, giving it a firm smack.

You jumped at the combination, goosebumps racing to the top of your skin. "My turn to make you feel good…," you grinned, tugging the bun at the back of his head so he was forced to look up at you. "How dare you look so fucking good in a suit. It's really not even fair. Pinstripes, really? And your three headed dragons? It should be me who is green with jealousy over all the women who were checking you out."

Whether you were merely teasing or being wholly serious, Aemond didn't care. You had taken control of the flow once again. He let you have it, let you hold onto the reins if only for a moment. He loved seeing you like this. The faintest hint of pink shone in his cheeks at your compliment.

Releasing his hair you sunk down to your knees. You kissed the flat of his abdomen, beneath his navel, nipping the skin there as your hands pulled the front of his briefs down. He groaned in relief when his cock finally sprang free. Too long had it been solid and trapped; the generous size of him aching to be released for longer than he cared to admit. "So big…," you praised, idly stroking him as you looked up at him.

Seeing you so eager on your knees snapped something in him, and any chance of playing nice broke as soon as your warm tongue swiped along the underside of his shaft. "That's right," he muttered through a pleased groan. "It's like you forgot how fucking good this cock made you feel. Making me play along with your silly game," he tutted, seizing a handful of your hair in his fist. "Parading around like you weren't already mine…," his voice dark, dangerous. "You need to be reminded, pretty girl. Of whose you are, and of how good only my cock can make you feel."

Your belly flipped at the change of his demeanor. The way his eye pulled you into the void of its blackness. You looked up at him like the little doe you were. With his help, and in a single shared motion, you raked his undergarment down his legs to throw it aside. His hand was still knotted in your hair and, using that, he pulled your mouth to his cock until he hit your gag reflex.

Instantly you choked. He fucking groaned as your throat constricted around him. Saliva pooled in your mouth. Your hands gripped over his thighs, fingernails digging into the lean muscle there. He lifted your head up only to do it once more; slower, more deliberate, savoring the sensation of your mouth around him for the first time. And a third time, too. After a moment both his hands lifted your head off him, smiling softly. It wasn't what you expected. It was the gentlest he'd been since arriving. "Too much? Or are you okay?"

It was the sincerity in which he spoke that made you want to slap him, kiss him, and jump on him. All at once. Instead of any of those, you laughed. You wiped away some smeared mascara from under your eyes and nodded, unable to stop laughing. "Surprising, yeah. But, I'm okay. Thanks for checking."

He smirked. That asshole. "Good," he replied, leaning back on one hand while spreading his legs wider apart. "You don't have to be easy with me."

You didn't have anything to say, simply scooted closer into him and looked up at him with those big doe eyes smeared with the night's makeup. You took him in your mouth once again – on your own terms this time. His hand rested lightly at the back of your head in an attempt to keep your hair from falling in your face. You sucked more of him in, then pulled back, plunging forward once again to swallow yet even more of his length.

A truly delectable groan rumbled out from Aemond's throat. He couldn't help it. Your mouth felt so fucking good. He looked down at you, glaring, while a pleasured grin spread across his face; the black of his eye making it all the more lecherous. "Fuck. 'M not gonna last long if you keep doing that."

"Good," you shot back in the same manner of his. "You deserve to cum for playing my silly little game." You didn't go easy on him. Lewd glugs and hot pants filled your room; his hisses and gasps accented the depravity. Saliva drooled helplessly from your mouth and made it all the more sloppy. When your hand moved to cup and massage along his balls you were surprised to feel those already coated in your saliva.

"I'm close… gonna be good and swallow me whole?" He moaned, length somehow getting even fucking harder if that was even possible.

You weren't stopping to say anything back. Your other hand gripped onto whatever wasn't in your mouth and stroked along him firmly, still rolling his sack in your other. He took that as a yes.

The would-be Targaryen prince erupted down your throat with a string of muttered curses and praises. His lean body flexed and shuddered, toes twitching and curling as he rode the waves of climax. His hand had never clenched your hair again, yet it fell heavily like it was tired from holding a fist. "Christ, woman," he breathed, glowing.

You stood and wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. "Yeah," you replied dreamily as you plopped onto your back atop the bed; grinning like the sloppy blowjob gave you as much pleasure as it did him. Or, perhaps it was merely pride.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute – catching your breath. He rolled over. Those slim hips fit easily between your thighs as his hands planted heavily beside your head. A sly grin graced his chiseled features.

"You're already hard again?"

"Can't help it, pretty girl. You're too sexy," he answered, lining himself up with your eager opening. He wasted little time in pushing into you, hissing at the sensation. "God you're so fucking wet from sucking me off."

The stretch of your body around his girth stole your breath. He stilled to let your walls accommodate his size. "You're right. How could I have forgotten how good this cock makes me feel?" You whined up at him, spine arching beneath him tantalizingly. You were more than slick enough for his intrusion, and now you were full. Absolutely full of him. Slowly, he pulled out. Easily, he pushed back in. Your breath turned ragged and quick, lovely pressure building in your core until it moaned out of your red-smeared lips. "Shit, yes," you whimpered, nails digging into his back.

Leaning up, Aemond grabbed both of your ankles in a single hand and threw them over a shoulder. The new angle sent him railing toward your belly button. His cockhead dragged against that deep, deliciously sensitive spot, over and over, your pussy hot and perfect for his ravaging. "Taking me sooo well…," he praised between slapping skin and your cries of bliss. The palm of his free hand pushed down and splayed wide over your low belly; claiming and intensifying your pleasure.

The added pressure sent fire blazing through your senses. Orgasm consumed you quickly and harshly, and you squeezed the sheets in tight fists as he fucked you through it. The edge of your vision blurred with ecstasy.

"Fuck, yes," Aemond panted, sweat glistening on his brow. "Feel so fuckin' good squeezing me like that." His length harded like iron yet again, balls tightening in preparation for a second release. His pace grew sloppier as he chased his high.

"Fill me up, Aem," you cooed up at him, nodding fervently. "Do it, fill me up." Your voice broke off into syllables and mutters, eyes desperate.

Hearing that was all he needed. He twitched inside you, spilling ropes of his seed deep and shallow alike inside your greedy cunt. Finally, with his firm chest heaving, he let go of your ankles and eased out of you. He flopped onto his back beside you, grinning like a fool. "Alright, babe, you're on water and cleaning duty this time."

You giggled. Actually giggled. "In a minute." You laid on your side and cuddled against him, laying your head on his chest – his heart thumping powerfully below your cheek. A contented silence settled over both of you. He stroked your hair, and you his torso. Once his pulse calmed you leaned up and smiled at him. "That was seriously amazing, the fuck?" you said with a satisfied blush. On your dresser was a pile of clean washcloths you forgot to put away. You used one on yourself and tossed another to Aemond. "Be right back." You put on a new t-shirt and underwear before leaving.

When you came back with water and snacks, Aemond was already browsing through your Netflix. "It's all murder docs and shitty reality tv," he teased.

"Oh shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes. "Here I brought you snacks and you're talking shit."

"Thanks," he said appreciatively. When you laid by him it was his turn to cuddle into you.

Eventually you decided on a horror movie neither of you had seen but agreed looked either really good or hilariously bad.

He stayed the night, and there may or may not have been a third round before sleep finally settled over your pleasantly exhausted bodies.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider a follow and reblog as I have plans to create and share more writings ♥

here is my masterlist

taglist: @melsunshine @iiamthehybrid @arcielee @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @silverwinged @nikstrange @tssf-imagines

To be added or removed, please let me know!

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #aemond fic #fic

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Can Anybody See Me? Part 19

Hello, hello. While this is technically Steve’s first performance, you won’t actually get to see him act until later. There are plot reasons why. Like ‘planned from the very beginning, the whole reason for this story in the first place’ reasons why. ;) But Steve gets some good news.

And for those of you who missed the poll and it’s results, this story is going to be running until the end of season 4 (or potentially season 5 depending how long this takes). I will be prioritizing the shorter fics for posting because they will get done long before this one will, but I will still keep updating it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Steve woke up the following morning feeling relaxed and more than a little pleased with himself. His body was humming with a nervous energy and he was giddy with it. He double checked his backpack to make sure he had everything he needed for today and then dashed out the door.

Today was his first performance and he couldn’t wait. He pulled into the parking lot of the school and hopped out. The only downside to this whole performance thing that he could see was that he was missing out on swimming class all week. Coach Hall was fine with it especially since Steve wasn’t the only one on the team that was in the play, just the team’s most prominent member. Plus they still had the after school practices.

He pulled up to the school parking lot to see that Eddie was waiting for him. Janice and Marty, too. Once they got to the auditorium, Marty and Eddie went one way and Janice and Steve the other. Steve could feel the hum of excitement vibrating off of everyone in the cast. This is was it, their dress rehearsal.

Thankfully no one threw up, but the kid playing Robert Lee looked a little green. Steve saw the kid playing McNair rubbing his back as he tucked his head between his knees.

The lights dimmed and the bell began to toll. This was it.

Steve had stumbled a couple of times, but so had a couple of the others. First time jitters, but Steve was practically jumping up and down afterwards. He and Janice hugged.

“Oh my god,” Steve said. “You were amazing!”

Janice blushed. “Me? Dude, you added a little bit of sass to the part that just...rocked.”

Steve blushed. “I only hope that Miss Lucy feels the same.”

Janice nodded.

They all piled into the choir room and sat nervously waiting for her to come in. Miss Lucy always talked to stage crew first because the notes were shorter and more to the point. “Hey, this light didn’t go off at the right time,” or “hey, you need to hold the light on Hancock a little longer.”

Notes for the actors tended to be a bit more messy. They all tensed up when she walked in, sitting up straighter in their seats.

“Not bad, everyone,” Miss Lucy began. “I saw a lot of little jitters, but that’s normal. Especially since we had a few newcomers this year. But I do have some notes.”

She broke down all her notes and finally came to Steve. Janice held his hand.

“You’re still lacking the strength of emotion needed for the Gen. Washington line,” she said. “You have to really sell it. ‘Lately I’ve had the oddest feeling that he’s been―writing to me.’ Really sell that feeling of intimacy between you and the general.”

A bunch of the kids snickered and Steve blushed.

“What are you, children?” Miss Lucy barked out. “Intimacy isn’t just sex for crying out loud. It’s about knowing someone so closely, so well that you just feel like you’re safe. Like you understand them and they understand you in ways others would struggle with.”

Steve nodded.

“But I loved how cheeky you made Thomson,” she finished. “I would have liked to have to seen that during rehearsals, but I like it. Definitely keep that up.”

“I got in front of the kids and I goofed it up a bit,” Steve explained, blushing.

Miss Lucy laughed. “I can see that. Very nice.”

Steve ducked his head as Janice rubbed back in encouragingly.

Miss Lucy went on with the rest of her notes and then they broke up.

They still had to go to their last class of the day. Which Steve had been grateful. The pottery teacher already hated him, and the last thing he wanted was to have to been late or gone because he was pretty damn sure that Mr Lovett would have docked him points on his attendance even though he was supposed to have been excused.

He walked into the class and sat in the back with his head down as usual. One of the girls in the class, Mr Lovett’s pet, Mindy Jones turned around at him sneered.

“Well if it isn’t the fairy,” she drawled. “You take it up the ass now, too?”

Steve’s head rocked back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows drama is for fags and freaks,” Mindy snarled. “And hanging out with Munson...it’s pretty safe to assume you’re both.”

Steve laughed. “You do realize that your favorite actors were in drama school, right? You really think that Tom Cruise, Harrison Ford, or Rob Lowe are gay? That makes no sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “They don’t cake on makeup the way you theater freaks do. Don’t even try and compare the two.”

Steve licked his upper lip and smirked. Thankfully he was saved from answering by the literal bell calling the class to session.

He was doing better in the class, having learned from watching the other students around him. Which made Mr Lovett angrier because he couldn’t dock him in good faith. And Steve knew he didn’t want to test it far enough for his parents to show up at the principal’s office. So the teacher made his life miserable in other ways.

Sneering at his color choices. Scoffing at his rudimentary skills, even though this was a beginner’s class. They all had rudimentary skills, for fuck’s sake. But it never seemed to be good enough for him and he would make sure to praise Mindy in the same breath he degraded Steve.

He didn’t even know why it wasn’t a half year like it was at the middle school. Which chucklefuck decided that yes what this school needed was a year long beginning pottery class? It was horrible.

He suffered through the class and shuffled out, his head throbbing. He slammed into the lockers when Mindy deliberately hip checked him on her way out.

Just then another counselor just happened to be passing by.

“Mr Harrington?” Mr Cole asked, rushing over to help him stand. “Are you all right?”

Steve nodded. “The smell of clay makes my head ache sometimes.”

“Then why are you in the class?” he asked.

Steve frowned and then winced. “Mrs Hall told me I couldn’t change the class.”

Mr Cole blinked. “Last semester. But it’s new semester, Mr Harrington, you should be in a different elective now.”

“It’s not year long like drama or choir?” he asked, confused.

“No, who told it was?”

“Mrs Hall?” Steve said, but it was more like a question. He didn’t understand what was happening.

Mr Cole’s spine straightened and his tongue dragged along his top lip. Steve could feel the anger radiate off the counselor and he gulped.

“Follow me, Mr Harrington,” he said coldly. “I’ll get you sorted out.”

Steve dutifully followed him to his office and sat down. Mr Cole vanished down the hall and a moment or two later he could hear raised voices. Then a third was added.

Two minutes later Principal Higgins and Mr Cole were walking through the door.

“It appears there has been a mix up involving your schedule,” Principal Higgins muttered, looking sidelong at Mr Cole. “Mr Cole will be handling your school file from now on. Have a nice day.”

Principal Higgins left, leaving behind a smug Mr Cole and a baffled Steve.

Mr Cole smiled at Steve. “Just let me pull up the available courses for you and we’ll get you taken care of.”

They went over all the options and decided that since Steve already had all the credits he needed to graduate that he could have a free period instead. And yes that meant if he wanted to, he could go home after lunch on odd days. Or even after his English class if Steve wanted. Mr Cole printed him out a note that he could hand to teachers if they thought he was playing hooky and let Steve go.

“Thanks for this,” Steve said, on his way out.

“You’re welcome,” Mr Cole said with a smile. “It’s our job to make sure kids receive an education, not enact petty vendettas against students.”

Steve nodded and slipped back out into the hall. He made sure he was far enough away before he leapt into the air, whooping and yelling for joy.

Steve ran out to the parking lot, hoping Eddie was waiting for him. He nearly slumped over in relief when he saw that he was. He looked around him briefly before launching himself at his boyfriend.

Eddie had to take a step back to catch him so that they wouldn’t fall over.

“Whoa, there, big boy!” he said with a chuckle. “Someone is unusually happy coming from Mr Lovett’s class.”

Steve kissed him soundly. “That’s because I never have to return to that horrible man’s class ever again.”

“And how did you manage that one, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, holding on to the back of Steve’s head as they swayed back and forth.

So Steve explained. “I still don’t know how Coach Hall and Mrs Hall are married. Like you couldn’t find two more diametrically opposing people on the planet.”

Eddie laughed. “One of life’s greatest mysteries. But I’m happy for you, babe. Insanely jealous, too. But mostly happy.”

Steve’s laugh joined his. “Don’t worry though, I won’t cut out on you. I’ll just do my homework during that time so I can spend even more time with my hot boyfriend.”

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “I approve.”

Steve playfully shoved him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yup,” Eddie agreed. “I was just waiting for you in case you needed to bitch about Mr Lovett.”

Steve gave him a quick peck. “And that’s one of the many billion reasons, I adore you.”

Eddie blushed. “Go on, pretty boy. I’ve got homework and you’ve got fit into that tiny Speedo.”

Steve laughed again. He put his bag in the trunk of his car and swapped it for his swim stuff.

He waved at Eddie as drove by. Today was a good day.

***

Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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thebetawolfgirl · 7 months

Text

Bonding Time part 2

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!

A/N: Enjoy!

Bonding Time pt2

The wedding had happened and the lovebirds were on their 3 week honeymoon, both step siblings were able to move back to their respective apartments in New York, although y/n had barely been home long enough to buy groceries as Timmy always ended up coming to her place and bringing over his own food. The happy couple were delighted before they left for their honeymoon to know their children were ‘trying their best’ to get along for them. Y/n just smiled as she said goodbye to her mother ‘I promise mother we will keep an eye on the house while you’re gone just have a nice time’ her mother hugged her tightly in return and pushed the hair behind her daughter’s ear. ‘I know you’re probably sick of my false promises y/n but I think Greg is the one this time.’ Y/n kissed her mother’s cheek smiling as Timmy came up behind her. ‘Don’t worry Elaine, I’ll make sure y/n stays out of trouble’ he smirks throwing his arm around her shoulder and y/n rams her elbow into his ribs ‘Fuck you, like you’re such a fucking choir boy!’

‘I’m not but I know you’re not exactly a Virgin Mary either’ he smirks as she swings her arm to slap him as the parents just roll their eyes and wave goodbye before driving off leaving them to wrestle with each other.

Timmy waited until they left the driveway before he grabbed her throat again and slamming her back against the nearest wall ‘Stop slapping me!’

Y/n shoved him off before heading upstairs to pack her stuff to go home mumbling ‘Asshole.’ She shut her door and smirking began to collect her clothes she brought for the wedding, she heard her door open already knowing who it was and began emptying her drawers ‘Are you seeing Stacey tonight?’

He responded with a resounding ‘No. She wanted me to come over but I said I was hanging out with Stuart tonight.’

She made a face looking at him ‘Stuart is in Canada Timmy, visiting his grandpa. Why are you lying to her? I mean besides the fact she’s annoying, stupid and a bitch.’

‘All of the above!’ He responded picking up her underwear from her suitcase.

‘Have you guys slept together yet?’ She asked again grabbing them out of his hand ‘You know if you don’t fuck her soon she’ll start thinking you swing the other way.’

He glared at her ‘I’m not gay!’

She held up her panties she just snatched from his hands ‘No shit perv. Just fuck her and get it over with.’ She went into the wardrobe as he made a face behind her back ‘I saw that dick.’

She had just stepped through her front door and was going through her mail when her phone rang and saw it was Timmy and she rolled her eyes answering it ‘Who or what have you hit with that piece of shit you drive now?’

‘Fuck you, I’m at home and that car is a classical car-‘

‘It’s a piece of shit, you have money and have no excuse to keep that thing.’

She smirked dropping her mail on the coffee table hearing him taking deep breaths knowing she had pissed him off.

‘You didn’t think it was a piece of shit when I fucked you in the back seat bitch.’

She glared into nothing before hanging up and storming to her front door, ready to go and murder him. But when she wrenched it open she was face to face with her step brother ‘The fuck you think you’re doing hanging up on me like that?!’

‘I was actually coming over to tell you something’

‘And what would that be?’ He replied letting himself inside and shutting the door behind him.

‘This’ she swung her hand and slapped his face hard and because he wasn’t expecting it she got him right on his cheek.

‘Ow FUCK!’ He grabbed her threw her over his shoulder and carried her to her bedroom before shoving back on her bed and crawled over to her and kissed her hard biting her lower lip, the bedroom wasn’t very well lit so they went by touch alone ripping each other’s clothes off scratching each other in the process, before he pushed her back moving between her legs and kissed her roughly as she bit his lips.

‘Timmy’

He moved down her throat kissing and biting before slamming into her clamping his hand over her mouth to silence her moans and whispered in her ear ‘Quiet, you have nosy neighbours. We don’t need the cops being called.’ He began going at a hard and steady pace as she gripped his arms digging her nails into his skin. He removed his hand and kissed her open mouth gripping the back of her neck and pulled her up to sit on his lap when she flipped him onto his back shoving him down when he tried to sit up and began riding him hard as he grabbed her hips digging his fingers into her skin making her gasp in pain and pleasure and rode him harder both of them panting heavily. She ran her hand up his chest before wrapping her fingers around his throat putting light pressure on making him choke out a groan, she smirked and leaned down and kissed him hard and continued riding him before moving down his jawline and neck licking the sweat from his skin before biting down hearing him hiss and bite her shoulder and slam his hips up to meet hers before they came together once again in a sweaty panting mess.

They knew this was wrong in some way, but they weren’t related so they didn’t care. Y/n also knew she would be covered in marks and fingerprints from the way he grabbed and held onto her. Timmy was never gentle when he held her during sex, he was possessive.

They lay panting heavily trying to catch their breaths in a tangled and sticky mess of bedsheets and limbs. She looked over to him and saw he was watching her. She trailed her fingertips over his lips staring back at him ‘What?’

He smirked at her pushing a strand of hair back ‘What if someone we know, or someone who know our parents know find out?’

She shrugs looking at him ‘I don’t care, my mother never gave a shit about me, why should I?’

Timothée looked at her and listened to the way she said it so coldly and could honestly relate. His father went through women like he went through different kinds of coffee without a second thought to his son, so why should Timothée give a shit about his feelings.

He shrugged in agreement ‘Even if they did find out there’s not much they can do about it, we’re not related and we didn’t force them to get together. So who cares what they want? We’re taking what we want out of this shit show.’

She smirks and leans down pecks his lips again and again.

The next morning y/n is woken up by someone banging on her door and she groans feeling arms around her as she tried to get up. ‘Timmy I need to answer that or they won’t go away.’ He groans trying to pull her back ‘Timmy let go I need to answer it.’

‘You have a fucking camera look at the monitor’

She sighed heavily grabbing her phone to look at the front door camera and groaned when she saw who it was

‘Timmy, Timmy let me go it’s Stacey, it’s fucking Stacey let go!’ She wrenched his arms off her not believing he wasn’t more bothered. She couldn’t care less, this was her house, but he should’ve been more bothered at the possibility of his girlfriend finding him naked at his step sister’s apartment.

She grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of clean underwear and trudged to the front door opening it still sleepy but surprised.

‘Stacey? What you want?’

‘Have you seen your brother?’

‘Step brother and no I haven’t. We didn’t drive back together. Why?’

Well I tried calling him last night but he didn’t answer so I went round to his apartment and he wasn’t home, the neighbour said he went out.’

‘Well maybe he met up with some of his friends?’

She looked really anxious and although y/n felt sorry for the girl she was getting bored AND cold standing in the doorway.

‘It’s just we haven’t gone this long without talking to each other, we usually call to say goodnight and when he didn’t call I got worried.’

Y/n rubbed her eyes tired and grabbed the edge of her door getting ready to shut it.

‘Look, if he darkens my doorstep, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him and tell him to call you, okay?’

Stacey nodded smiling thankfully. ‘Thanks y/n, I’ll let you get back to bed I’m sorry it’s so early.’

She waved away her apologies and nodded goodbye closing the door. Grateful she was gone she headed back upstairs after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘Your plaything is very concerned of your whereabouts and missed your goodnight call last night. That’s just so adorable I may vomit.’

She mocked as she climbed onto the bed and under the covers handing him the bottle as he smiled sweetly and said in a sugary sweet voice ‘Please go fuck yourself’

He took a drink from the bottle as she looked around the room and pointed at her bedside table ‘You owe me a new bedside lamp dickhead’

‘Buying your own fucking lamp I’m not buying you shit’

He grabbed her around her waist dragging her to him and tugging her T-shirt over her head and tossing it aside mumbling ‘More skin’

She rolled her eyes letting him lay between her legs and began the old routine of rubbing her hands up and down his back.

‘It’s daylight what if Stacey catches us?’

Timmy looked up at her skeptically ‘How? By climbing up the fucking fire escape?’

She glared and dug her nails into his skin hard making him growl in the back of his throat before he grabbed her throat and squeezed before slamming her head down against the pillows ‘Dammit Timmy, stop doing that.’

He released his grip on her throat when she grabbed him by his hair and slammed her lips against his kissing him hard. He kissed her back before pulling away and kissing down her body until he reached between her legs and ripped her panties clean off. He parted her lips and licked a long strip up before sucking on her clit making her grip the sheets and moan. He then slid his tongue into her and pinned her hips down as she screamed his name along with some expletives, he smirked and continued his eating her out roughly with his tongue and eventually fingers and relished seeing her eyes roll back into her head as she came all over his mouth and face. He crawled back up to her and kissed her making her taste herself and wrapped her arms around his shoulders kissing him back. They continued like this for the rest of the day not answering phones or the door, just constantly having sex again and again.

He stayed at y/n’s place for two whole days without leaving the bedroom besides for food water and bathroom breaks. He told Stacey he partied and crashed at a friend’s house.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #smut smut smut #timmy x reader

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quill-of-thoth · 9 months

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It's apparently Little Shop of Horrors day, so let me tell you all about the time I was house manager for the worst musical of, if not all time, the 20zeroes.

I was a theater kid in a school that did NOT do musicals. For crosstown rivalry reasons and a bunch of other stuff. The other high school did musicals so all you choir divas go try out over there. Also casting at my high school was highly correlated with seniority, AKA you were more likely to get speaking parts as an upperclassman, assuming you had been in any play before.

However, my junior year we got a new drama teacher, and therefore a budget, and therefore a spate of more musicals and small cast plays to perform. I got cast in zero things because my acting was pretty mid and my ability to sing is... not. However I was both one of the few non-graduating upperclassmen and The Responsible One and my presence building set / herding freshman / going off book early resulted in fewer stitches, so I got to be house manager. In high school theater, house manager shows up at call to help with things, then opens the ticket booth, answers questions on the walkie, and is the person fourteen year old ushers come to when somebody's mom needs to be sent to the special hell for people who talk on their cell phones in the theater. We did our very first school musical in like a decade, Little Shop of Horrors, in january.

If the Gifs have not clued you in, Little Shop of Horrors is the story of a florist's assistant who mistakes a man eating alien for a talking plant and decides to feed his crush's abusive boyfriend to it. This is not a weird plot for musicals, BUT it requires some prep work. 1) The Chorus tells a lot of the story, so in order to Give Everyone A Chance and to keep everyone's barely trained vocal chords in good shape, we double casted the chorus. Meaning that on nights where they weren't singing, they were supposed to usher, because we never had enough ushers and there were too many of them for all of them to fulfil their crew obligations building set.

2) There are three chorus leads. Some performances have them be the whole chorus but our director had ambitions, so we had three chorus leads and like ten background chorus members per chorus. Performing alternating nights. In the same set of matching RENTED costumes. (Background chorus wore their choir performance duds I think.) 3) Audrey 2, the "plant" is a puppet of some description, large enough to eat a successful dentist. Meaning that somebody has to be mic'd up to voice him, and somebody ELSE has to make him move. And you have to get him on and off stage, or configure the stage in such a way that he can be covered up. Ours rolled. I had only occasionally been on set crew for Little Shop, and most of the chorus hadn't been at all because of their choir schedules, so I rolled up opening night at half past call expecting an hour of running errands for people and an easy house opening. The Stage Manager handed me my walkie and said "I already hate this," which was just her personality regarding opening nights but which should have been a warning. I was quickly informed that The Chorus was being kept in the empty choir room upstairs of the stage because there were too many of them to stay in the dressing rooms, so there was going to be a LOT of walkie chatter about cues. We also had to shuffle in a dude from light crew to drop the show's only F-bomb, because the freshman voicing Audrey 2 hadn't known it existed when he tried out and was now in a tizzy because his Very Religious Grandma was coming. So I had to keep an aisle clear up in the nosebleeds so a crew guy could sneak in the dark from the spotlights to the sound booth to delightedly yell Fuck into the microphone. "We never get people in the nosebleeds anyway," I told Stage Manager, who shrugged unhappily. "Chorus of twenty. Choir kids. Musical."

Spotlight guy, passing by, said something like "I can handle it."

I did some emergency stitching on somebody's loose costume button, sorted out some props, ran around blocking off or opening doors, and then opened the house. With ONE usher because the Chorus Ushers were late. "Isn't their call time twenty to opening?" I asked the one reliable usher, who was build crew only, and he shrugged. I told him to put people as far to the front as he could, no exceptions, and not to use the stage left nosebleeds, and continued taking tickets and cash. We already had a crowd when the Chorus Ushers arrived - Late, not appropriately dressed, or telling me that they had to leave before the show was over because their parents did not want to pick them up any later than that time. I volunteered to tell their parents that having a kid in a show was a commitment that included days that they were not performing and that we had several reliable upperclassmen running carpool if they had emergencies. Only one of the ushers took me up on it, so I decided that we could close missing one usher since we had more than usual anyway, and signed them all in. I walkied the Director that we had all the ushers we were gonna get and that they were late but we had it under control, which was the last time ANYTHING was under control that night. The first obvious problem was that the Chorus Ushers didn't seat anyone, which was literally their one job. They just... walked in and out of the theater following people? I had to leave Reliable at the cash box and demonstrate, then move people out of the one row reserved for ushers and the closed off nosebleed area. Someone, probably Spotlight, had cordoned it off with duct tape so I don't know why they even tried. Then I had to explain that you cannot save a whole row so that tall people do not come and block your view. And then somebody wanted a half off ticket because they intended to leave at intermission. And somebody else wanted to pay by credit card even though they'd had weeks of warning that we were not set up to do that. Add in people jockeying for seats and ushers sneaking off to hang with friends or family and by the time the lights went down I was composing some strongly worded advice to our director about training ushers and making sure that showing up to usher one night wasn't the whole price of being in the cast. Then, in the middle of the second song, a phone rang. "Hi Mom. No, the play has started. Yes I have a ride home. No, dad decided he wouldn't - It's fine -" "Excuse me, Ma'am," I hissed to the rapidly confiscated phone, tugging the usher towards the back doors by the hoodie, "Your daughter is working and we do not allow cell phones in the theater." "But -" "All calls must be taken IN THE HALLWAY (which we had reached by then) and your ringer is expected to be off." "And who are you?" "The Stage Manager," I said, like I was an actual responsible party, and hung up. "When you are done sorting this out, I expect neither you, nor your phone, to make a single sound for the rest of this play. Any upperclassman with an available car seat will give you a ride home if you need it." That made one freshie with the fear of House Manager put into them properly, hopefully it meant she'd behave in general. And walkie hell immediately broke loose. In the next, possibly forty minutes, by virtue of being the person who had already left the auditorium and was wearing normal clothes, I learned the following:

someone needed to run a repair kit up to the chorus holding room

Because Second Night Choral Lead (on props duty) and Opening Night Choral lead had gotten into a slapfight about discovering that they shared the costume

consisting of shoving and shouting that one of them would ruin it for the other because she was "too fat" for a one size fits all wrap dress

And inevitably torn it

Stage Manager could not handle this

Because she'd gone up to Choral Holding Area to tell everybody else in the chorus to shut the fuck up because they could be heard ON STAGE

And the Choir Divas had decided to lock her in a closet

so somebody allowed to have building keys (director) had to come and let her out and put the fear of god into them

So someone ELSE who knew blocking had to move to cues position

Because The Dude in The Plant was relying on that

So I had to go help cover for whatever they should be doing that didn't involve knowing the script

And somebody else had to go whipstitch Opening Night Choral Lead back into her damn dress before their next cue

Also The Dude In The Plant was concerned because the rolling portion of the stage felt kinda wrong? The part he was on? Inside the plant puppet?

The director needed a List Of People Whose Parents Were Going To Be Called after the play because we do not lock people into storage closets

And don't think he won't ALSO tell on you to the choir director who will have you out of SO MANY performances for this behavior.

Audrey the Human just tripped over something that shouldn't be backstage because Choral Lead two is being read the riot act instead of doing props

WHOEVER IS RUBBING FABRIC ON THEIR MIC OVER THE WALKIES NEEDS TO TURN IT OFF

Sorry the micbox is right next to the dress tear

The Dude in Audrey the Plant just felt something move that should not

The Dude Voicing Audrey the Plant informs me that one of my ushers has left and also left the door to the auditorium wide open

Surprisingly it is not little miss phone call

Anyway he's trapped in the sound booth waiting for his cue and Reliable Usher doesn't have a walkie

Chorus is back on stage, the riot act is in intermission, Background Chorus Choir Divas have declared that if they are removed from the Chorus for being loud assholes and derailing the whole cast and crew they won't usher and then where will we be?

GREAT! I DON'T WANT THEM!

Choral Lead Two is crying in the boys dressing room instead of running props because nobody's currently using the boys dressing room

Because Choral Lead One will be standing around in a spare sheet in the girls' dressing room while we fix her dress during intermission.

Dude in the Plant says, very quietly, "fuck"

As the combined weight of chorus and cast and plant muppet and dude in the plant and choreography breaks one of the casters on the set

Which fortunately only falls like a quarter inch so everyone stumbles and nobody is hurt

"Should I help?" No, Dude Voicing The Plant, STAY WHERE YOU ARE YOU ARE THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS THAT'S GOING WELL

Chorus and Crew and Everyone except me (because I'm hunting for a MIA usher) is trying to deal with that rolling bit of set under the cover of SON BE A DEEEEENTIST, YOU'LL BE A SUCCESS!

Congrats my missing usher has not been teen-napped. She saw me putting the fear of god and of me into her castmate about cell phones and has stepped outside the entire building to I Do Not Care What But This Conversation can Wait we LEGALLY have to know where you are

Hey who is the fastest / most invisible sewer we have? Because this dress is messed up worse than we thought. We need them for all of intermission

Me, possibly, except I am working intermission?

Can you come at call tomorrow and fix it? We have safety pins

Sure

Why are there no safety pins in the safety pins box

I dunno why don't you ask the kid who was literally making a safety pin necklace last time I was at set build

Who?

IDK they're new probably

Rolling stage has been fixed! Well. Assuming we don't want it to move.

"Am I safe to eat the guy?" Yes, Dude In The Plant, chow down on our dentist, the set will hold.

Intermission.

THANK FUCK

A twenty five minute intermission is totally normal, Sirs and Ma'ams. Please feel free to buy cold stale football field popcorn.

Phonecall usher "Uh. So My dad. Decided he wasn't going to come pick me up at intermission."

I gave her the name of the senior with a car that I thought would be feeling least murderous, because I am not a complete monster.

No, sir, you cannot show up for the second half of a play and expect a half priced ticket. It is five. Goddamn. Dollars. Anyway somehow the worst thing that happened on second night was Dude Voicing the Plant deciding that he was actually brave and secular enough to do the swears so we got TWO people saying fuck directly into the microphone. He still passed on Tough Titties though.

#little shop of horrors #easily the worst play I was in #for a given value of in

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smolvenger · 10 days

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Okay, so it’s been a wild ride with with show I am in. Like, got rejected from my dream solo and have to listen to three others sing it in costume with orchestra so…yeah, there were a few rehearsals where I had to excuse myself to a corner or out the room to cry. I guess it just opened old wounds since the solo came from one of my favorite musicals and it hurts to have younger, prettier, more talented and successful girls sing it in my mind.

Total rehearsals I have cried in: 4

Been 2 rehearsals since my rehearsal cry.

And thankfully, my cast members are sweet and supportive and hugged me, though I don’t discuss the explicit why reason if we are in the building,

And plus! They cut two of my prettiest costumes and replaced one for the Titanic number from something period accurate to a basic bitch black choir gown with the other women. So now I am stuck in costumes that make me feel ugly like a black mid length long sleeve gown with a hot pink top, a macaroni and cheese orange dress (I’m pale), and an orangey renaissance outfit with a half corset waist clincher that’s….silver.

And so, against my better judgement, I vented about the situation on Reddit and the comments said such empathetic, kind things like:

“Not to be rude, but 29 is no age to be acting this immature! You better drop so you don’t have a meltdown onstage.”

(Like…I haven’t had one onstage, I have said and done nothing against anyone or the soloists)

I deleted the post. Part of me is pissed and is all “I will prove you assholes wrong” and be the most mature, focused, professional person on there.

But even though I feel more at peace with letting my grief about the solo go, their words still hurt. So…send some hugs?

@ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @holdmytesseract @liminalpebble @lokisgoodgirl @ladyofthestayingpower @muddyorbsblr (thanks for letting me scream in your dms, bestie)

#personal #sas assemble

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bittenbyyou · 11 months

Text

Inferior Flames (3)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, some comedy

description: Now it was Peter’s turn to keep an eye on you, much to your dismay.

word count: 6.8k

warnings: betrayal, cussing, arguing, lil bit of fake dating, OC’s background story, spying, fight scene

a/n: Yes, there will be a part 4, darlings! Please reblog and lemme know what you think. It’s highly motivating to all writers and I do read every comment. :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Hey kiddo, F.R.I.D.A.Y tells me you missed school. Are you okay?”

“Dad, are you in the middle of a battle?”

The hologram projection glitched when sounds of explosions and distant chaos filled the air. Your father’s face remained focused on you rather than whatever was going on, his armor glinting in the background.

“It’s fine, I called a timeout,” he said, looking around and assessing the situation. “Why aren’t you at school, Firefly?”

I don’t want to see Peter and a three-headed dragon wants to eat me.

“I’m overwhelmed with this test coming up. Wanted extra time to study.”

“You sure? You sound a bit off.”

You smiled weakly. “I’m sure, Dad. Focus on the battle.”

He blasted an enemy beyond the confines of the screen, and the screech sound it let out was dreadful.

“Alright, kiddo. If you need anything, Happy is around if I'm not available. Don't hesitate to reach out."

“I know, I know. Love you.”

“Love you too. Oh! Has the Spider-ling done anything I should know about?”

“Nope, not at all. I got to study. Bye!”

You ended the call on the control panel, blowing a raspberry to release some tension. Keeping secrets from your father was not on your to-do list, but divulging the truth would unleash a Pandora's box of complications you weren’t quite prepared to face. If Tony Stark couldn’t know, then it was a definite no-go for your mother and Happy.

This was a task that weighed solely on your shoulders, one you couldn’t rely on anyone else to complete. Deep down, you recognized the cliche and absurdity of the situation, the immense pressure you were putting on yourself. But this villain was anything but ordinary. Only you could vanquish it, but that meant risking the only tangible connection to your birth mother—the pearl.

Rather than studying, you used today to research leads on the three-headed dragon man known as Triroth. This power-hungry demon hailed from your village and had an insatiable appetite for devouring others. The enhancers were nothing more than a cunning ploy to attract formidable challengers, a way to entertain and satiate himself, absorbing their strength and amplifying his own power.

You were almost certain he had died. But here he was, back from the abyss in some inexplicable fashion. Determination fueled your every step as you mapped out a plan to shake up an old contact who might just hold the key to uncovering the truth.

Meanwhile, Peter’s mind was in a frenzy, unable to focus on anything at school. His gaze was fixated on your empty chair every class, his mind racing a mile a minute at the possibilities. What if you decided to take on the dragon by yourself? What if he captured you? What if, heaven forbid, he already ate you? It was driving him nuts.

“Peter? Peter. Peter!”

The boy looked up from his lunch tray to see a concerned Ned and MJ. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you good?” Ned asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been a little off,” MJ pointed out.

“Sorry, I was wondering where [Y/N] was.”

“Ah yeah… choir was a disaster without her.” She looked around the cafeteria as if someone could potentially be eavesdropping before adding on, “The girls can’t sing.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sick?” Ned said.

“I hope so. Maybe I’ll swing by and see how she’s doing.”

MJ had an amused expression on her face. “You know where she lives?”

“Ooh, we should all go together!” Ned suggested. Peter’s eyes widened as he shook his hands in refusal. It’s not like he could take them to the Avengers Compound and reveal that you’re one (or not one).

“No! Th-That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? Since when have you and her gotten that close? I don’t even know where she lives,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at Peter.

“I meant I’ll swing by the internship and see if she’s there.”

“Ah, their little Stark ‘internship~’,” MJ said in a sing-songy voice, air quoting the word “internship” with her fingers. Ned did the same voice and copied her fingers, the two of them laughing at themselves.

“Guys, come on,” Peter said, chuckling at their silly behavior. “It’s a serious internship. Hopefully it’ll soon lead to a real job with them.”

“Oh yeah. Sure,” MJ suddenly drops her smile, staring at him, eyes filled with suspicion. “What are you hiding, Peter?”

He forced a nervous laugh, attempting to mask his anxiety, but it came out slightly strained. “What are you—what are you talking about?”

“She’s been absent for one day,” Ned lifted up 1 finger like he was her partner for a class presentation. “And you’re worried about her. If I didn’t know any better… I’d say you care about her.”

Peter was speechless until Ned interjected with, “No. They’re rivals. Peter just wants to keep tabs on her.”

“Yeah, she told me about that. What, you can’t stand that a girl has a higher position than you in the internship?”

Again, Peter’s lips opened but no sound came out. Suddenly, MJ’s face broke out into a grin.

“I’m just kidding, I don’t care. I just like seeing you sit there like a gaping fish. Later losers, I gotta go to the restroom.”

As soon as MJ was gone, Ned immediately started rapid-firing questions at Peter. “Dude, did something happen? Did [Y/N] get hurt? Is she captured? She’s captured, isn’t she? I thought you said the mission went well!”

“Stop, stop, she’s fine. But… I upsetted her and I need to apologize for it.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you later. Lunch is over.”

Once Peter got home, he nonchalantly hung his backpack over the back of a chair. A cloud of smoke greeted him, launching a surprise attack on both his lungs and Aunt May’s, whose culinary experiment failed yet again.

“Hey Peter,” she said from the kitchen. He went over to her to ensure he didn’t need to grab a fire extinguisher. “Meatloaf’s a little…”—she coughed—“burnt. Do you want Thai again?”

Peter chuckled through his cough and nodded. “Yeah, May. Sounds great.”

Aunt May knew her nephew was Spider-Man, their special bond based on a foundation of trust and openness. Peter had confided in her about many aspects of his life as the friendly neighborhood hero—which recently involved you. However, he had kept his most recent mission under wraps, for obvious reasons.

As soon as she returned with the take-out, her keen intuition immediately picked up that something was wrong.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Aunt May said, setting her chopsticks down. “What’s going on?”

Peter poked at his food mindlessly, racking his brain on the best way to communicate his feelings without giving too much away. “Um… do you remember me telling you about [Y/N]?”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh yeah. The girl who can breathe fire and took your spot on the Avengers team!” Peter gave her a look. “Sorry. Sore spot, huh? You know, I haven’t met her yet.”

“Well yeah, she’s upset at me right now.”

She leaned back in her dining chair, crossing her arms over another. “Uh huh. Why?”

He set down his chopsticks. “I… made an assumption about her and I was wrong. Completely wrong. And it upset her and I wanted to apologize, but she told me to leave her alone.”

“Was it your jealousy? Did you say something petty? Because I know I taught you better than th—”

“No, May. It was something else. I’m worried about her. I think she’s going to do something dangerous by herself.”

She leaned forward, her elbows finding a cozy spot on the table. “You know, when you became Spider-Man, I worried about you facing danger everyday. But it made me feel better knowing that Mr. Stark was looking out for you. He’s out of town, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe you can be her person. The one that looks out for her. If it’s as dangerous as you say, then she needs help. And who knows? She might forgive you.”

“Thanks May.” He quickly slurped his food, causing him to momentarily choke. May rushed over and started patting his back, trying to dislodge the stubborn bite. He thanked her between coughs, then planted a swift peck on her cheek. With a playful grin, he darted off towards his room where his suit and mask awaited him.

“Hey Karen.”

“Hi Peter,” the AI replied.

“I need you to track someone. Her name is [Y/N].”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I am unable to process that request.”

“What, why?”

“It is against my protocol.”

Peter’s hands flew to his head, alarmed and bewildered. “Can you give me any information about her?”

“It depends. You do not have authorization for certain information.”

His hands dropped back down to his sides. “Don’t have authorization? Why can’t you… wait a second. Whose authorization do I need?”

“You would need Tony Stark’s authorization.”

“Karen please, I need to find her. She could be in danger. Can you give me her phone number at least?”

“That is one thing I can do. Shall I call her for you?”

“Yes, please!”

He waited patiently for you to pick up but after the second ring, it went straight to voicemail. “It appears she is unable to take your call. Would you like to leave her a message?”

“Yes!” He heard a beep. “Hey, Ember, it’s your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here. So, uh, listen, if you’re going after dragon man, you gotta let me help you. Please.” There was a moment of silence before he continued, a touch of vulnerability creeping in his voice. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Stay safe.”

“That was very sweet, Peter.”

“Thanks Karen.”

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Yes. Call Ned.”

“Peter Parker is calling you.”

“Thanks D.A.W.N. Ignore it.”

“Got it.”

“Is there a chance he can locate me?”

“The chances are low. Your father put strict protocols on anything that would invade your privacy. However, having your phone on means he could potentially track it.”

“Turn it off for now.”

“Got it.”

You had tracked down an old contact at an enormous animal shelter on the east side of town, determined to find some answers. As you approached the facility, the darkened surroundings and the faint glow of the moon added an air of mystery to the scene. Searching for a way in, you scoured the perimeter of the building, checking doors and windows. Eventually, you discovered a slightly ajar maintenance entrance, providing an opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. Carefully, you crept through the narrow opening, ensuring not to disturb anything or set off any alarms.

Once inside, the shelter appeared deserted, its corridors dimly lit by sporadic emergency lights. The smell of animals lingered in the air, making your nose scrunch at the unfamiliarity. As you navigated the hallways, the soft sounds of animals rustling in their enclosures reached your ears. The glow of the overhead lights illuminated the rows of cages that lined the walls. Dogs barked softly, and cats meowed curiously, their presence creating an atmosphere of both serenity and longing.

Continuing your search, you followed the distant sound of feline purring and came upon a room filled with cats of various breeds and sizes. The woman you were seeking was standing before one of the cages, affectionately talking to a small tabby cat and stroking its fur.

“I need information on Triroth,” you said, pointing your spear at the back of her head. The woman’s lips curled into a subtle smile, having not heard her native language in years.

“Please. Not in front of my kittens. They’re innocent.”

Only after you lowered your spear and secured it on your back did she bother to turn around.

“Very well.”

You trailed behind her, weaving through the winding corridors of the building. The array of cats and playful puppies greeted you with excitement as you passed, their wagging tails and joyful barks exuding an air of anticipation.

Yet, as you left the company of the animals, there was a subtle shift in their behavior. The once-friendly chorus of barks and meows gradually morphed into an unsettling cacophony of growls and hisses. As if they sensed something unbeknownst to you—an unseen presence.

Your guide was unfazed by the animals’ hostile display, guiding you forward with an unwavering calmness. Finally, you arrived at the grand entrance of the main lobby.

“It’s been years, Ember. You certainly have grown up,” she said, her voice carrying a slight accent. With a dramatic turn, she faced you, a forced smile gracing her lips. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No, Kura. I need to know what Triroth is doing here and where to find him.”

“And if I don’t tell you?”

“I have ways of persuading you,” you said, getting into a fighting stance.

“Tsk. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Just taking extra precautions. Tell me where he is.”

She scoffed, her lips curling with a mix of disbelief and amusement, yet her eyes portrayed sadness. “That maniac killed my sister. I have no interest in suffering the same fate.”

You snapped your fingers, your helmet vanishing on command to reveal your shocked expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. After he tossed me aside, he went after my sister who foolishly fell in love with him. The bastard then sacrificed her life to regain his powers.”

“What the fuck…”

“Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with him. Now please leave.” With those words, she averted her gaze, indicating her desire for you to depart.

“No please,” you begged, rushing over and placing a hand on her shoulder. She went on the defensive, the air crackling with tension as your actions triggered a fierce hand-to-hand combat. With a blend of grace and determination, you dodged her attacks and striked back with precision and agility.

Yet Kura’s eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, relishing the challenge that was you, her thirst for battle having not been satiated for a long time. Her every movement exuded a dark elegance, as if she danced with the shadows themselves. Her strikes were ruthless, each blow infused with a raw power that threatened to overwhelm your defenses.

The clash intensified, the echoes of grunts and exertion reverberating through the room. Kura wasn’t backing down, seeming invigorated by the fierce resistance. As the battle reached its climax, you seized an opportunity and skillfully maneuvered her, pinning Kura against the wall.

You pressed your spear against her throat, the cold metal creating a stark contrast against the skin.

“Please,” you whispered, a flicker of sorrow in your voice. “All I want is to stop Triroth and I know you were close to him once before. Anything would help.”

She hesitated as you pressed the tip of the spear closer, grazing the delicate skin of her throat.

“I spared your life once. You owe me,” you reminded her.

“Fine. But you already know what he wants.”

“The pearl.”

“Precisely. All he’s ever wanted is power and who better to drain the life force of than humans? They’re stupid and in abundance. He won’t stop until you hand the pearl over.”

“Where is he staying?”

“I already said I don’t know!” She mustered all her remaining power and unleashed a desperate counterattack, launching a powerful energy blast that sent you flying backwards. You lifted your body off the ground, letting out a faint “ow” before chasing after Kura, who was trying to escape. It was then you saw a web had been casted around her body, immobilizing her in an intricate pattern of sticky strands. She fell down like a log, wiggling around like a fish out of water. “Get me out of this!”

“Hey Ember.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you whipped around quickly, spear ready for battle only to see the sight of the iconic red and blue hero, gracefully suspended upside down.

“What the heck, don’t do that!” you yelled, lowering your weapon.

Peter detached himself from his web and landed on his feet. “Sorry, but I—”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well I was in the neighborhood—”

“I don’t want to hear it. “

“And you weren’t at school so—”

“And now I gotta hear it.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Peering over your shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Kura, seeing the fear in her eyes. “And you’re kinda scaring her…”

With a mischievous grin, you confidently brandished your weapon, savoring the momentary flicker of fear that danced across the arachnid superhero's eyes. However, you decided to lower the spear, loving how easy it was to tease him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so great at interrogation. Please, by all means. Go ahead.” You gestured your arms over to Kura, challenging the hero.

“Okay. Should be easy.” He jogged right over and crouched down to her eye level. “Hi, I’m Spider-Man,” he held his hand out for her to shake, only for her to look up at him with a judgemental gaze. “Oh, my bad. You’re webbed up. Sorry about that, but my friend needs information.”

“We’re not friends,” you corrected.

Peter pressed a hand against his mouth, mimicking a makeshift wall to shield his voice from you.

“I guess I’ll have to return the matching best friend bracelets,” he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Kura let out a chuckle in response before saying something in her native language, smiling brightly at Peter.

“Hey, I think I’m getting somewhere!” Peter exclaimed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, placing one hand on your hip.

“She says she’s curious to see how delicious spider flesh is,” you translated.

The white of Peter’s mask where the eyes were widened significantly as he backed away nervously. You laughed, bending down to Kura’s level. Peter watched as you said some things to her in a foreign language, unable to decipher any part of the conversation. Kura seemed unsure at first, but eventually, she uttered something that brought a grin to your face. In that moment, you and her wore matching smirks and glanced at Spider-Man.

“Ember…?” he stammered, taking cautious steps backward with his hands raised in surrender. You swiftly rose to your feet, wielding your spear with determination. In a swift, controlled motion, you tore through the intricate webs that bound Kura, setting her free.

“Thanks for the intel, Kura. Have fun.”

With another snap of your fingers, your helmet appeared on your head and you flew out of the shelter at the speed of light. Peter stared at Kura, letting out a nervous laugh to quell the tension he sensed in the air.

“Hate to leave a lady hanging, it was nice to meet you!” Peter shot a web and attempted to swing his way out when a long, bushy fox tail snaked around his foot. “What the…?!”

Another tail wrapped around Peter’s torso, yanking him to the ground with an earth-shaking crash. Struggling to free himself, he glanced back in astonishment, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Kura had not one, not two, but nine tails fanned around her like a peacock spreading its feathers.

“Well, well, looks like we've got a real 'fox'-y situation here,” Peter quipped. Kura smirked, clearly enjoying her little game. She launched another tail at his free leg, deftly pulling him closer with a sly grin. “Oh my god! Ember! EMBER YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, SHE HAS SO MANY TAILS, WHAT THE FUCK, AHHH!”

You were outside the shelter on the rooftop, peering in through the glass ceiling.

“He’ll be fine,” you told yourself, chuckling afterwards before heading home.

The next morning at school…

“Can we talk?”

“I would rather do literally anything else,” you said, closing your locker shut after pulling out the textbooks you needed for class. You began striding down the bustling hallway at a brisk pace with Peter trailing close by your side.

“You left me with a nine-tailed fox demon!” he hissed, the sound of students chattering providing a convenient cover for your conversation.

“You survived. Kura isn’t a threat. She just likes to play with her food,” you taunted.

“She had nine tails. Nine. All on me. I’m pretty sure I still have fur on my…” He shuddered at the memory.

“Ew, ew, ew, shut up.”

“I ran out of webs just to tie her up! How could you leave me?”

“Well, she thought you were cute.”

“She did?” A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look.

“Stop following me.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Yeah, no. That needs to stop. Go back to hating me.” Peter stole your textbooks from you, effectively stopping you from going further. “Hey!”

He slyly concealed the books behind his back, leaning against a locker to sandwich them and making it even more challenging to reclaim your possessions. When one of your hands got too close, he snatched your wrist with his free hand and pulled you close. Your eyes locked in an intense gaze as you found yourself face to face with him.

"I don't hate you," he whispered gently, his words hanging in the air. You stood there, frozen in place, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity that resonated in his voice.

“... Maybe you should start.”

“Is there a problem here?” As your gazes shifted, you caught sight of Flash glaring at Peter. “Is Parker bothering you? Dude, let go of her hand.”

With his quick thinking, Peter blurted out, “Why should I? She’s my girlfriend.”

“I’m your what now?”

He went from holding your wrist to enveloping your hand with his own. “Girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. You got a problem with that?”

Flash responded with a dismissive 'pshhhh' sound, clearly not convinced by Peter's bluff. In that moment, you were left speechless, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing the tension, Peter quickly sprang into action, guiding you away from Flash with a victorious grin stretching across his face.

“With us dating, it won’t be weird if I’m always around you,” Peter said with a certain gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not creepy. I swear I’m going to kill you,” you muttered, trying to shake off his grip, but he wouldn’t let up.

“Not before we hunt down that dragon, babe.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, sending a wave of butterflies through you. Against all reason, you found yourself allowing him to keep hold of your hand as you walked together, all the way until you reached your classroom.

“Man, I knew you were hiding something from me. I was going to ask you to be my wingman and it turns out you were your own wingman and now I’m wingless!”

“What?” Peter asked, laughing at his friend’s rambling. Ned slammed his lunch tray down, the milk carton almost toppling over, and took a seat.

“You’re dating [Y/N]!”

“Oh… Oh! Oh, that. Come closer,” Ned leaned in from across the table. “There’s a mission that she’s keeping from me and I need an excuse to be close to her so she’ll let me come,” Peter whispered.

“Oh~!” Ned said, relieved as he sat back down in his own seat. “I see you, Peter. Nice.”

“I knew you had a thing for him,” a female voice said in the distance. Ned and Peter followed the sound to see you and MJ heading their way.

“MJ, we’re not dating.”

“That’s not what it looked like. He held your hand to every class, I think that counts as dating~.”

“The boy is obsessed with me, I don’t have the heart to reject him.”

“Oh honey, don’t go down that path. I’ll reject him for you.”

MJ and you sat down, but once she saw you were sitting next to Peter, she raised an eyebrow. “Peter…”

“Yeah?” he said, sipping his chocolate milk.

“[Y/N]’s not interested in dating you. She’s too nice to say no, so I’m doing it for her.”

“God, MJ,” you covered your face, mortified at her brutally honest nature. Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. He smelled pleasant, like a mixture of calming eucalyptus and gentle florals.

“Did she tell you that? The truth is she’s too shy to admit she has feelings for me. She was following me at one point.”

“Peter!” you exclaimed, pushing him off you. “Will you shut up?”

He pointed his thumb at you like he was doing the “get a load of this guy” meme.

“Yeah and why wouldn’t she like Peter? He can recite the entire periodic table backwards. What a guy.”

All three of you took a look at Ned, confused as hell. “Thanks Ned.”

He gave him a thumbs up, oblivious to the weird dynamic he created.

“Okay, you two aren’t telling us something,” MJ deduced. “Come on, Ned. Let’s let the two love birds figure their stuff out.”

The look you gave MJ screamed for her not to leave, but she only smirked in response as Ned got up and followed her, making sure to give Peter another thumbs up. As soon as they were out of earshot, Peter slid his lunch tray out of the way and faced you.

“What did Kura tell you?”

“Like I’d tell you,” you said, stabbing your food with your fork aggressively. “I’m imagining this as your face by the way.”

“Yikes. I’m the first victim of the Fork Assassin.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Tell me.”

You set your utensils down and faced him, wearing an expression of exasperation. “You’re really not going to stop, are you?”

“I want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Fine. I’ll just call Mr. Stark and tell him what you’ve been up to.” Your instincts betrayed you, your eyes widening more than you wanted him to see. You tried your best to keep your composure, but he saw right through you.

“Don’t. He can’t know.”

“Then are you going to tell me?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But not here. Meet me at the school��s rooftop around midnight. Now, will you stop with the whole fake boyfriend thing and tell MJ and Ned to come back?”

“Sure thing, darling.”

“That’s it!”

You grabbed your fork and Peter shielded his body with hands. “Not the face, not the face!”

You arrived at Midtown High earlier than midnight, wondering if this was a good idea.

“Hey Early Bird. Or should I say Ember Bird?” a friendly voice said from above. You noticed Spider-Man at the top of the school’s tower, jumping down to get to your level. You got comfortable and sat criss-cross, patting the spot next to you.

“Hi Spidey Bird,” you said, mirroring his lame joke. “Join me.”

Spider-Man took the seat beside you before taking off his mask and revealing his warm smile. He noticed the package of colorful treats in your lap, pointing to them.

“Are those gummy worms?”

“Yeah. Want some?” you asked, offering him the bag after tearing it open.

“Sure, thanks,” He popped one in his mouth, chewing with a giddy smile. You threw one up in the air and caught it in your mouth, earning an eye roll from him. “Showoff.”

Once he finished swallowing the sweet gummy, he blew a small raspberry with his lips. “So… are you going to tell me what you know?”

“Yeah, I suppose I have to. Kura told me my pearl can track Triroth’s mystical energy.”

“That’s great! Let’s come up with a plan and take him down.”

“It’s not that simple, Peter. If the pearl ends up in his hands, the consequences could be catastrophic. And… it’s the only memory I have left of my birth mother.”

You hugged your knees tightly, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Peter noticed your distress, shifting out of his criss-cross position. With one knee bent, he leaned back and used his hands to support his body, creating a relaxed yet attentive posture.

“Do you want to tell me about her and your family?”

“Well, my background is… complicated.”

“I’m willing to listen.” You gave him a grateful smile. “For the whole package of gummy worms.”

“Ugh.” You threw it at his face and, to your surprise, it actually hit him.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” you said, unable to contain your laughter. “I thought your Spidey Sense worked.”

“It does. But not for gummy worms!” He held the treats hostage. “They’re definitely mine now. Now talk.”

You delved into the story of your origins, telling him about how you had come from a tiny village a long ways away from New York. Your parents were remarkable beings bestowed with extraordinary powers. They spoiled you rotten, believing you could do no wrong and letting you get away with just about anything.

However, your mischievous tendencies took a wild turn once you reached ten years old. You couldn’t resist using your powers to play pranks and torment others for your own amusement. Little did you know, your misbehavior caught the attention of the Goddess of Mercy herself. She revoked your powers until you learned how to behave.

That’s when you learned the hard way about how actions had consequences. With the tables turned, you found yourself defenseless, becoming the target of others teasing and bullying. You suffered a great deal, learning about doing what was right and how to treat others kindly.

It was during this difficult time in your life that you first encountered Triroth. He stormed into your village, seizing control with an iron grip. Your righteous nature couldn’t stand idly as innocent townsfolk faced his wrath. In a valiant attempt to protect them, you found yourself kidnapped by the wicked demon. He held you hostage, demanding that your mother surrender her precious pearl—a source of great power that fueled her formidable weapon.

The Goddess of Mercy, ever watchful, returned your powers when least expected, but it was too late. When your parents came to your rescue, they instructed you to save yourself, but you ignored them. If only you had listened to their words and escaped, perhaps they could have emerged victorious instead of worrying about your safety.

Triroth killed your mother, who shielded your body when you decided to fight back. Your father, filled with unwavering bravery, confronted the demon and dragged him to an endless abyss. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, Triroth pulled your father down along with him, their fates seemingly sealed.

Both of them died, or so you thought, until now. Triroth had returned and was still fixated on obtaining your mother’s pearl—a relic that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed you two were related.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“No, it’s not okay. He’s a monster, he took away your parents and killed innocent people. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

“I’ll be okay once he’s been defeated.”

“I agree. And we can do it together.”

“No, Peter. I have to do this myself.”

“What? That’s stupid.”

“So… I’m stupid?”

“What?” You swore you could actually see the gears in his head turning. “No, not you, um. You’re not stupid, fighting alone is stupid because… it’s not smart…”

“Nice save.”

“It sounded better in my head.” You bumped your shoulder into his in a playful manner, letting him know you weren’t upset.

“Peter, do you know why I’m not an Avenger?” He didn’t say anything and waited for you to continue. “Because I’m scared.”

“What? What do you have to be scared of? You’re powerful. You can defeat him, I know it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m scared… of dying.”

“Well, that’s normal.”

“No. I’m so terrified of dying that I will choose to save myself over anyone else.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“It is. Why do you think I was so upset that night at the club?”

“Because you didn’t want me to get hurt?”

You shook your head. “Because if it comes down to saving either you or me, I will choose me.”

Peter was rendered speechless at your blunt words. “Whoa, hold on. It doesn’t have to come down to that. We’re in this together.”

His insistent need to do this with you was tiresome, so you got up and walked over to the ledge of the rooftop overlooking the city.

“You don’t get it. I’m not the self-sacrificing type, Peter. I fight for myself. Not for you. Not for the people in this city. I don’t care for anyone but myself.”

Peter rose to his feet and stood near you, casually resting his forearms on the ledge as he stared at your side profile. “You say that, but who would risk their own life to battle a demon?”

“I’m avenging my parents.”

“But if you were scared of dying, you wouldn’t battle Triroth in the first place.”

“I can if I knew I was alone. My parents died because I didn’t save myself, so from now on, that’s what I’m going to do.” You slowly turned to face him, a fierce intensity burning in your gaze. “So don’t get in my way. You’ll just be a burden.”

Despite Peter's patience and understanding of your pain stemming from past mistakes, your words pierced deep, leaving him feeling as though all his efforts on your behalf had been invalidated.

“You think I’m a burden?” He nodded silently, his lips pursed, and took a few steps back, his hands raised as if he were saying, “Okay, I got the message.”

A wave of guilt washed over you, but instead of speaking up, you remained silent.

“You wanna know why I saved you at the club?” He clenched his jaw, trying his best to remain composed. With his hands firmly planted on his hips, he bowed his head, contemplating the perfect choice of words.

“I never asked you to,” you remarked. He snapped his head up to stare straight into your soul, eyes ablaze with anger.

“Because that’s what being Spider-Man is all about. I saved you because I won’t stand by and allow someone to suffer by doing nothing. You’re wanting to go into battle against a demon with no backup.” Frustration washed over him, evident as he ran his hand through his hair, massaging the back of his head with a hint of exasperation. “For someone who’s scared of death, that honestly sounds pretty stupid.”

“So you’re definitely calling me stupid now.”

“Yes! Because you won’t let me help!”

“I don’t need your help!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest. “I never did!”

He took a sharp inhale and closed his eyes to find his happy place, briefly resting his forehead on his hand to collect himself before speaking again. “You’re being so annoying right now.”

“Good, I love being annoying.”

Peter let out a “gah!” sound, holding his face in frustration before walking back towards you. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Another thing we can agree on,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and a cold sweat coated your palms when you realized he wasn’t stopping. You stepped backwards to distance yourself until your back met the unyielding surface of a wall, leaving you with no escape route.

“And you want to know the worst part of all this?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.

“Do enlighten me.”

“You’re selfish.”

“Yup, sure. Love that for me.” You tried to leave when he extended his arm out, effectively blocking your way. “You know, girls don’t find this as attractive as movies make it out to be. It’s kinda cliche.”

“Will you shut up for one second?”

“You gonna make me?”

“And you wanna talk about cliches.” Unexpectedly, he shot a web at your wrist and you freaked out.

“What the hell, Peter?!”

“What, you expecting a kiss?”

“You wish, webhead. You seriously have a thing for tying up women. Is it your kink or something?”

A flush of pink dashed across his cheek. “S-Say what you want, but you’re going to stand here and listen to me.”

You attempted to pull your wrist free when he added on, “And if you don’t, I’m telling your dad.”

That ceased your attempts of escaping. “... My dad…?”

“Mr. Stark adopted you. Didn’t he?”

“How’d you—”

“Karen told me.” Your perplexed face made him quickly realize he needed to elaborate. “The suit lady.”

“Your AI?”

“Well, she didn’t really tell me, I figured it out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I asked her to find you, she said I didn’t have the authorization to track you. That I needed authorization from Mr. Stark. The only reason she would say that is if he wanted to keep your privacy, well, private. And with what you told me today, everything lines up.”

“Fuck…” you breathed. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t want my dad to worry.”

"You know," Peter remarked, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "I have to admit, you're really not in the best position to ask for favors. I mean, let's recap, shall we? You pretended to be an Avenger, completely humiliated me in front of everyone, and oh, did I mention you're Iron Man's daughter? Yeah, it's quite the resume you've got there." He crossed his arms, unable to suppress a chuckle as he savored the moment.

“Peter, I swear… if you tell him, I will never forgive you.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“I lost one father. I can’t lose another.”

“There. That’s the real you. So selfish.”

“What?”

“You talk about the possibility of losing others. But have you not once considered how he might feel? You’re actively putting yourself in danger behind his back. He wouldn’t want to lose you.” His gaze softened, his voice sincere. “I… wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Peter's words washed over you. The anger that had consumed you moments ago dissolved into a bittersweet realization. His concern, his unwavering support, it was all driven by a genuine fear of losing you.

No. You couldn't allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let him see the turmoil brewing within you. It was easier to bury your feelings, to push him away, even if it tore you apart inside.

“You’re a liability.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Stay away from all this. Stay away from me.”

He leaned in closer, gently pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so broken, barely audible, as he pleaded, “Please don’t push me away.”

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears, the ache in your chest matching the ache in your soul. Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Peter and the overwhelming weight of your own fears and doubts. You had convinced yourself that pushing him away was the only way to keep him safe, but now, faced with his vulnerability and plea, your resolve wavered.

A tremor passed through your voice as you tried to steady yourself, to keep your emotions in check.

"I have to, Peter," you whispered, your words laced with a mixture of sorrow and determination. He intertwined his fingers with your own, shaking his head.

“Please don’t go.”

Taking a deep breath, you released his hand, your resolve hardening within you. The weight of your decision hung heavily in the air as you prepared yourself for what had to be done. It pained you to hurt him, but you knew it was the only way to keep him safe.

With a sudden swiftness, you struck at the precise pressure points on his body, rendering him temporarily paralyzed. His eyes widened in shock, a silent plea for understanding and answers. Before he could utter a word, you swiftly pressed another pressure point on his neck, muffling his voice and preventing him from moving.

Guilt flooded your senses, but you knew this was necessary. You had to go alone, to face the danger that lay ahead without burdening him with your choices and risks. It was a sacrifice you were making to protect him, even if it meant breaking his trust.

As Peter's eyes conveyed a mix of pain and betrayal, you couldn't help but offer a heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice heavy with remorse.

With a practiced touch, you ignited a tiny flame on your index finger, using it to burn through the webs that bound your other hand. The strands disintegrated, freeing you from their constraints. Peter's eyes followed the flickering flame, pain etched across his face.

"I have to do this on my own," you explained, your voice tinged with determination. "You'll regain control of your body in a few hours. It's for your own safety."

Before leaving, you carefully donned Peter's mask, shielding his identity from prying eyes. With a heavy heart, you carried him back to his apartment, gently laying him on his bed.

“I can’t lose you too.”

Tagging: @elicheel | @ifilwtmfc |

Thank you for reading and loving my ideas! I really do appreciate every reblog and every hashtag. Feel free to send me an ask if you’d like!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #peter parker mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker e2l #peter parker x oc #spiderman x reader #stark!reader #avenger!reader #tom holland peter parker #inferior flames #my writing

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sheasshovel · 6 months

Text

HEAR ME OUT

Scar as Apollo and Gem as Artemis…

Starting with Gem;

-HER ANTLERS!! Deer are sacred animals to Artemis and she is also the goddess of the moon and thats so shiny duo crumbs (pearl as the moon).

-Pearl could also work as a follower of Artemis though because of her disastrous double life relationship with Scott. Followers of Artemis swore off love and lived a life of chaste, which aligns well with Pearl having forgiven Scott after she won but never having the same relationship with him that she had in Last Life.

-Artemis herself also swore off love of any kind.. and guess who wasn’t there for Double life for a soul bound?

-Her only Allies in sl, besides the moon herself, were Scott and Impulse. Both of which could work as devout followers of Artemis because of their rejection of their own respective soulmates. Scott acknowledges his past lovers as his exes and never (to my knowledge) expresses wanting to get back with them. Impulse, too, never hesitated to attack the mounders even if they had Bdubs on their side. Impulse and Bdubs had a great relationship in Double Life but I like to think that, for this theory to work, they’ve just decided to keep that relationship in Dl.

-Besides the moon, Artemis is also a symbol of the hunt which is exactly what she did in sl sessions 7-8; hunt people down with the aid of the moon. Imagine moonlight illuminating her path as she stalks her prey….

Scars turn;

-Now, Apollo isn’t the god of the Sun (that would be Helios… or Grian in this case) but rather of sunlight, but the sun is still a huge symbol of him. Not to go all desert duo on you but the crumbs are there. Scar also covers himself in sunflowers in sl, a flower known to always be facing the sun, basking in its light. It’s worth mentioning that Scar was only close to winning when he and the Sun were inseparable in 3rd life, and he actually won when he was faced with the symbol of the moon and the moon herself.

-This is more silly but Apollo is highly connected with musical arts (specifically the lyre) and could you imagine if that scene where Grian and Scar were singing together wasn’t just Scar being oblivious but instead Apollo using any chance he can get to showcase his musical talent to the Sun?

-Apollo’s gift of Prophecy… Scar “we all die in the end” would be more prophetic if we all collectively gaslight ourselves into believing that he died after hitting succeed on his task. But in these death games, everyone knows by now how it ends. I think Scar acknowledging this is somehow foreshadowing how he wins though; by murdering everyone who stands in his way, not accepting sacrifices and turning on his temporary allies the second its clear that it would benefit him. When he said everyone would die he truly meant EVERYONE would die, and a majority will die to him or his twin (Artemis).

-Apollo and Artemis are both known for using Archery, but Scar is literally Hotguy come on now. His last kill was an arrow to Pearl that knocked her off of a cliff, an ARROW at the MOON. Scar is an incredibly skilled bow user and I would include this in Gem’s part too but I’m pretty sure she’s gotten more kills on sl by sword.

-Lastly, the Muses. Apollo, being the god of arts and music, was the choir leader of the 9 muses on Olympus. Now, Scar was never friends with more than 2 people at a time in the life series but lets look at his kills instead. In session 9 alone, he got 6 Permakills and 2 assists (Big B and Skizz) which brings us up to 8. Not enough but he lasted for 9 sessions, which is pretty cool if you interpret every session as a muse. Each session’s task being a huge influence on how Scar acts, even if he fails the task.

I think the 9 muses, Gem’s preferred weapon, and Apollo’s connection to medicine and Scar’s lack thereof are the weakest parts of this delusional rant but I still love the idea of the final battle in sl featuring the moon rejecting Artemis and a battle between the Twins. Apollo winning only after destroying the moon herself, who lost her will to win after the events of Dl. Apollo having once been allied with the Sun, and the Moon once having her win handed to her by her soulmate. Anyways Shinyduo Desertduo and Scar/Pearl narrative foils real and true.

#gtws #secret life #rant #goodtimeswithscar #geminitay #geminislay #grian #pearlescentmoon #life series #life smp #this came to me in a vision #desert duo #shiny duo #what are Pearl and Scars duo called help #sunflower duo #character analysis #does this count as a character analysis or a #or a drunken rambling

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povofjustme · 11 months

Text

Fake Lovers

Your are the singer of a band and a ‘rival’ of Tokio Hotel. The fans loved when you guy interact with each other. So the company make you fake date someone!

Part one

Georg listing x Black reader

Have fun love<3 - bc its not pr. I wrote in at 3 am. Didn't have time(:

I am a part of a girl band from the US. I have been singing since I was a little kid. At a church and school, I would be in a choir. I met my best friends in high school. Nia the drummer, Jade the basses and Alex played the guitar. We all had a love for music and from then, it was history.

Alex wanted to post a song that we had been working on for the longest. The next day the girls all woke me up, telling me that the song bowled up on YouTube. I never thought it would happen but now look at us. We made something of ourselves. Going on interviews and meeting up with big names.

We had a tour in Europe, surprisingly we had a big fan base over there. Nia, Jade, and I we’re in our practice room, thinking of more outfits for the upcoming show in a few days. “Hey, guys!” Alex came into the room with our drink she went out to get. “Hey babe,” I said with a smile. “So I was thinking, we can do a song for the stage broke.” are heads all turned to the left.

“Okay listen, there's a band here called... Tokio Hotel” “Oh yeah, I heard of them,” Nia said. She has always been the quiet type. The things that came out of her mouth surprised us at times but she kept us on task. “They are a really big group here. Girls are in love with them” Nia added. “They are not bad looking” We looked to see Jade on her phone looking them up.

“Well, I was thinking we can do one of their songs when we hit Germany” “That sounds good but girl... I will have to learn it in like 2 weeks. I know German but it's Arsch”. It was a really good idea, but I didn't want to fuck up anything. “I can help you G, you forget am half germen. I speak it at home,” Nia said. “I know, but people already hate me because am black. I don't want to give them another reason.”

“G, we will all help you, we have 2 weeks. You got this, We got this” Alex told me, All I did was shake my head. For the days leading up to the preforms, we would do a concert and after I would spend m. In my time with Nia, I learned the lyrics to the song Durch Den Monsun.

Now the two weeks are up and it was time to sing. Walking out on stage, we have seen so many people. Signs with our names and faces on them. They were so sweet and amazing.

Now is the time “Wie fühlen wir uns heute Abend? Ich weiß, wir sollten Pause machen. Ich wollte euch etwas zeigen. Bereit Mädels?” (How are we feeling tonight? I know we should be on break but I wanted to show you guys something. Ready girls?)

The guys gave me a head nod and we started on the song. It was 3 seconds into the song and the crowd is going wild. I could remember a thing after that. Now am back in the hotel room lying down. “You know you did amazing, you got all the words right” We stayed in two hotel rooms. I got the share with Nia. “Thanks, babe”

“G, wake up. Addy needs to talk to us” Nia told me “Girl what time is it?” “7 a.m., come on and get dressed, I have to go wake the other girls.” “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know. She told us to meet her downstairs in an hour or so. She told us to dress like ourselves. So go in the shower first, it takes you forever to do your hair” I laughed while she was walking to the next door.

We all met up in Nia and I's room to just do some finishing touches on our look. We all have a different look. Jade, Alex, Nia, and I all wore the same shirt differently but had the same dark blue jeans. I had washed my hair and it ended up in a curled-up afro which I loved. I had made my shirt into a high crop top so you could still see our band name and the dark blue jeans high-waisted.

We got downstairs to see Addy waiting for us. “Good morning my loves. I want to meet you guys to some people!” “Addy I know you are the manager and all but I might have to kill you if you try to wake us up again this early?” Alex said. “I got you guys food” “Okay I love you again” Alex added. “So what's up,” I asked

“Tokio Hotel saw your guys perform last night and they wanted to meet you, in person,” She said with a smile on her face. “Wait are you for really!” “Yes I am, and we have to meet this in 3 hours. The place is an hour away and I want you all awake so we will drive there. Get more food and meet up with them. Okay” “Yes” we added at the same time

“Let us get this shit on the road. Am want to sleep in the car” Alex had always been the outgoing one. Always speaking her mind and not caring. Jade was that way too but she had a filter. The car ride was okay. We called for a bit until Alex went to sleep. We stopped and ate and 15 minutes later we were at a company building. The man who was driving told us we had to go through the back, due to the fans.

Even going through the back there was still fans everywhere. All I could think was that this group made it far. Each of us had a security guard by our side until we got into the building and into the room we were supposed to be in. Addy opened the door, she was greeted by a man who I assumed was their manager. They chatted for a few seconds then he looked at us.

“It is so nice to finally meet your girls. My name is Max and am the boy's mangers.” “Hello, Max” “Hi” we each said. “Max can you give the girls a run down for today” “Oh yes, I know it's one of your breaks from your show and I premises you girls can all sleep in Tom-” All I was thinking at this time was just sleep. “You and the boys will have an hour to yourself. No cameras, no pictures, nothing. Just getting to know each other.” He looked down had his right wrist “Then in about, an hour and a half now. We will have you guys take group pictures together. Everyone in Germany loves you guys here and why not have two big groups show some love to the people but give them what they want? Yeah!”

The girls and I looked at each other “Excuse me, sir, what do you mean?” Nia was saying what we all were thinking. “The people want to see the group interact with one another. Is that fine with you guys?” Just nodding our heads yes. “All right, follow me!” He took us to a room, from the outside we could hear voices.

He knocked on the door. “Boys there here” He opened the door. The girls and I looked at each other. “So who’s going in first?” I asked “I say you G, You are a singer” “Yeah, G” “ What the fuck, why.?” You are the face of the group. Now go show your face first” I walked in with a fake smile on my face. The first person I see he a tall, guy with long brown hair. His smile was to die for and I only looked for 3 seconds before taking my eyes off him.

The rest of the girls followed right next to me in a line. “Now I want you all to mix in with each other. Bill, Tom, Georg, and Gustav. Meet G, Jade, Alex and Nia. We will see you all in an hour” I looked around the room, It was like an office space. A big round table that fit all 8 of us. Everyone got into a spot with a person we didn’t know. The brown-haired boy sat on the right of me.

“Am Bill!” He had the biggest smile on his face and his hair was as big as mine. He sat on my left “I always wanted to meet you all. You guys are amazing!” He finished “So are you! Your voice is beautiful by the way” I feel like I could talk to him for days without getting bored. “Do you only go by G?” “Yeah it is a stage name. And It is easier to say for people”

It took a while but everyone started talking to one another. It felt so good being about the talk to people who have the same passion that you do. We related to each other, not even an hour later and it felt like we had been friends for over years. Less than an hour.

I found out his name, Georg. He was talking to Jade about the animal when she brought up my name. “Oh G loves animals, She has like 5 dogs. Right G?” “Oh what's their name?” Georg had asked me. “Princess, Prince, Zoey and Zion. I only have 4.” I laughed, he was looking at me the whole time I was talking or anytime we talked. He would always be the one asking me questions. I just felt so open with him, I didn't know how to act. He made me feel somewhat. A safe way but I didn’t know if I wanted to get too close, just to keep out of making a fool of myself.

Right when I finished laughing with Georg the door opened. We didn't stop talking, we were all having a good time. “Okay guys, It's time to go,” Addy told us “It's off the the shot. Now would you all like to take different cars or take the bus?” Max asked. “We will take the same bus, I have so much to ask Alex” Bill and Alex were talking the whole time. They seem like they would become best friends by the end of the day.

I made sure everyone got a chance to walk out the door before I did. Georg stayed behind me. “You can go first,” I told him “No it's fine, please go first” “I really hope we aren't gonna fight about this” “We are not, because you will be going first” I walked out signing. I walked out to see Max and Addy waiting for us. We walked ahead of them. I looked behind me to see them talking, I tried to listen but I could hear nothing with Alex and Bill talking loudly.

We went through the first to get to the bus. There were fans everywhere. Since Georg and I stayed behind a little, we ended a stuck. With people trying to get on the bus. “Hold my hand, I will push us through this,” He told me and I told his hand and made it on the bus, safely.

I hoped you like it!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x black reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #georg listing x reader #georg listing x black reader #gustav schafer x reader #black reader #poc #x black fem reader

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gl00mura1nk · 2 months

Text

CHESLOCK HEADCANONS PART 3 BECAUSE I GOT SENT HOME

Author’s note: basically, if you didn’t read my other posts, I puked last night and also in the morning but didn’t wanna miss school so I just said “fuck it we ball” and went to school, which was fine until P.E. and then I vomited on the floor, nearly went unconscious, and vomited again, and then went to the nurse, and vomited again, so I got picked up by my mom and vomited again and took a 2+ hour nap and now I’m here! (I have no new cheslock gifs help)

He despises gummy candy and probably just throws it at Gregory if anyone gives him any

His singing voice is so pretty but no one hears it alone because choir and he only sings on his balcony then disappears back into his room if he thinks someone heard

Does not care about being insulted but may Sebastian help you if you insult his family/friends

“I CAN’T FIND MY VIOLIN WHO STOLE IT?!?” *sees violin where he put it* “oh”

Contrary to popular belief, he does like reading, and has a mini library at home, most books being on music

Cheslock’s a doodler, he draws all over sheet music and papers and used to get points taken off in school for it

he has snakebites and you won’t change my mind ever

If you’ve ever seen the newer Parent Trap movie, his first piercing went something like the scene in that

“hold still” “I AM!” *pierces ear* *loud screaming*

Also if someone were to call him pretty he’d probably stare at them funny

Cheslock brain x-ray: *pizza time stops* DID THEY JUST? No, no, wait, what, I can’t respond. Oh well. *pizza time resumes*

His favorite flower is a black calla lily :)

If I go with my idea that his family is stable but just chaotic, CHRISTMAS AND STUFF WOULD BE SO FUN AT THEIR HOUSE

Literally him roller blading threateningly around the school: “Deck the halls with gasoline, falalalalalallalalala, light a match and watch it gleam, falalalalalalalala, now the school is burnt to ashes, falalallalalala, aren’t you glad you played with matches, falalalalalalalala”

Based on my family’s christmases, there would be pure chaos.

*christmas tree falls over* *sad violin music*

Sliding down a banister and knocking ornaments off

Someone tried to put ornaments on his hair while he slept (he kept them on)

Okay I’m gonna project here but he doesn’t like pie in general

My dog is making a popping noise

I’m gonna go check on my dog and make part 4 later (what’s the chances he became popcat but dog, popdog)

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji season 4 #cheslock #black butler public school arc #black butler headcanons

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ashes-writing · 1 year

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stranger things ● the new girl pt 2 ● g. emerson

warnings

swearing, bullying , jason carver / Andy, awkward flirting, Gareth using a firm tone, you all know that tone ashes will die on the dominant hill obvs, he is and y'all are sleeping on that shit, a little splash of 'bickering like an old married couple despite literally just meeting' and a big ol' dash of mutual pining. reader is female with long and curly hair, no other physical traits mentioned beyond that. why yes.. yes i am hellbent on reviving his tag. listen he's my grumpy lil drummer dude i can't just let it die.

word count

3657 exactly. Part Two... for now.

** if you guys were to hint you want more... this could /possibly/ be arranged... maybe.**

summary

continued from ( this post )

Gareth can't get you out of his head so he tracks you down. Maybe you're a little flirt and maybe.. just maybe.. he's into it.

taglist

-- if you want to be added to my stranger things taglist again, please go ( here ) to add your name otherwise I don't tag.

@tbmunson - bestie you knew i was tagging you. this is about our boy.

@allelitesmut