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oceantornadoo · 3 days ago

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ch7 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: oral sex both ways

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John Price thrives on routine. His days are filled with meetings and bloodshed, negotiations and betrayal. Routine keeps him sane.

Unfortunately, that resolution crumbled the moment he gained a wife. It’s getting harder and harder to leave in the morning, to ignore the fluttering of your eyelashes as you feign sleep. That’s what he blames for this break in routine.

The morning after, he stays for ten minutes instead of five. Counts the ticks of the old clock in the corner of his room as he memorizes the scent of your skin. You always end up with your head in the crook of his neck, legs tangled around his torso. He’s never been much of a back sleeper, but now it’s the last thing he cares about. It’s the sound of your breathing, the plushness of your skin, the brush of your chest against his. When he eventually gets up, he doesn’t look at the bed until he’s ready. If he glanced back at your eyes in half-slits, shifting closer to his pillow to soak up the remaining warmth he left in the bed, he would never leave the room.

At night, though, he succumbs to his weakness. He creates a new routine.

It’s the start of a new week after the getting-off confession. John had business in Glasgow over the weekend, lonely and cold in his hotel bed, but now he’s back.

“So Laswell sent me the contract. I definitely have enough to pay in full, but I’m thinking of paying half and then doing installments for the rest so I can have enough for immediate repairs. What do you-John?” John’s nodding along to your rant, disappearing under the covers to the place he’s been thinking about all weekend. The blanket’s a bit heavy, limiting his breathing, but it’s worth it for the sight of your clothed cunt, waiting for him.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.” Instead of following his orders, you peel back the cover until his head peeks out. “What are you doing?” He rubs circles into your thighs, reveling in their softness. John moves upwards, teasing the fabric of your pajama shorts. “You miss me this weekend?” He murmurs, not sure if he’s talking to his wife or her cunt. Both seem happy to see him, if that’s any consolation.

“No, I actually got the best sleep of my- hey!” He shoves his face into the triangle of your lap, sniffing with wonder. “Fuck, I missed ya.” You’re silent at his admission, but your hand finds a hold in his hair. “You did?” It’s soft and unsure, forcing him to rip his focus away from your pussy. “I did.” You bite your lip adorably. You tug him forward, gripping his scalp hard, until his face is in front of yours.

“Maybe next time, you take me with you.” Absolutely not. He was meeting with a new prospective manufacturer, shady and dangerous. He was not putting you in any sort of danger. John shakes his head, heart clenching as your face falls. “Not the kind of place fer you, baby. Gonna let me eat you out now?” You nod, but your face is still hard with repressed emotion. He kisses your forehead, trailing down to your cheek, then nose. “Give us a kiss then.” It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed him first, the notion sending blood straight to his cock. The kiss is short and sweet. Can’t believe how quickly you’ve gotten him under your spell. Two bloody weeks. He pulls away, a final kiss laid to your jaw. “Keep talkin’. Don’t mind me.”

The new routine continues for weeks. He gets you off a different way every night, from fingers to tongue to plain old grinding. And then he goes to sleep with you tucked to his side, taking care of himself in the morning. John needs you to be the one to ask to fuck, to reciprocate. The alternative leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Plus, every time he gets you off, you fall asleep immediately, like it’s the only way you’ll go to bed. It’s terribly endearing.

A month in, he starts noticing changes. The furniture in the sitting room, for one. They used to be 18th century relics, designed to make sure a guest didn’t overstay their welcome. Except now they’re eclectic, blue and green against the cream walls. The couches look comfortable, like you could spend a whole day there. The paintings change as well, from Rembrandt to Monet and Picasso. The impressionist works, blues and greens and yellows, work well with the new furniture, making his flat seem like a home. When he asks you, all you do is shrug and say something smart about updating his old man apartment. He leaves bite marks on your thighs that night.

It’s a beautiful Friday night when John gets home early, around 9. He usually gets text updates from Terrance, your commandeered security guard that Price assigned to you full time, about your movements. You’ll usually get home at 7, but nothing yet. Two hours late. He calls Terrance and gets his voicemail. Highly unusual. Calmly, he presses on your contact's name, and it goes to voicemail. Three times.

Fingers shaking, he calls Kyle.

“Sir?”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My fuckin’ wife, Garrick.”

“Isn’t she with Terrance?” “No one’s answerin’ their goddamn phone.” Gaz sighs on the other end, like this is an inconvenience and not his wife they’re talking about. Keys click, then a mouse, before Gaz answers. “They’re at the bookstore. Been there since this mornin’, sir.” John drags a hand down his face, then grabs the keys to the car he barely uses.

“Garrick, this is the last time you take more than three seconds t’ know where she is. I want a full team on ‘er at all times. I won’t hesitate t’ assign someone else as my Head of Security, someone who isn’t lettin’ their judgement take over their goddamn job. Copy?” He hasn’t dressed down one of his men, especially Kyle, but he’s tired of the man’s judgement on this marriage. What’s done is done. “Yessir.” John hangs up, too miffed to say goodbye. He’s got a wife to find.

Your bookstore is coming along well. It’s been over a month since you’ve been married, a month of John’s fingers and tongue loosening you in more ways than one. You swear you’ve developed stronger thigh muscles, simply from the orgasms he coaxes from you night after night. And then he just goes to sleep. You’ve felt his cock in fleeting touches, brushing against your thigh or hard in his lap as you grind on him. He never takes it out, never drags your hand in that grueling way men do with shady eyes and slimy smirks. Every night, he asks you if you hate him, and every night, your lie convinces him less and less.

And every night, you think of how adamant he was against you joining him. His insistence that it “wasn’t the kind of place for you.” Your old problem with him has faded, a mess of childhood fears rolled into new ones. In its place are your insecurities, the word bastard floating through your head every time you think of his rejection. The clause in the marriage contract. It rolls together into a simple thought: he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s barely let you in on his business, content to stick with late night chats and orgasms. It should be fine, it should be what you wanted, but instead you feel a hollow hole in your heart where the word ‘friends’ lives. Even friends should share their secrets.

But back to the bookstore. Your new baby. This first month was full of cleaning, dusting out odd corners and greasing creaky door hinges. You listed a hiring notice on online job boards, looking for an assistant to help with the grunt work. Which landed you Phil, a wonderful addition to the team. He was around your age, an American with sandy blond hair. Handsome in a basic way, something you noted and never thought of again. Terrance ran a background check on him, something you gladly consented to, and insisted on helping you interview him. It took a week of recon, but he was officially your new assistant as of two weeks ago. An amazing help around the store, handy with tools. You’d told Phil that you were the daughter of a lord, a minor lie to explain the bodyguard. He shrugged it off, the ex-pat seemingly used to the oddities of London.

Now that the space had been cleared, it was finally time to paint. Terrance insisted that he couldn’t help too much, his main duty too important, but with the help of Phil, you convinced him to paint the walls with you. You all left your phones in the half-fixed office, donning plastic sheets to protect from paint splatter. Your business plan, formed from your downtime during the day and shaped by your late-night conversations with John, was to have a store section and a community section. The community section would be at the front, with a beautiful light blue accent wall, perfect for book influencers. It would be surrounded by comfy couches and warm lighting, complete with a cafe space you intended to build out. Your idea reminded you of the library waiting hours away, with its own fireplace and furniture. You decided to recreate that cozy feeling and bring it to the public.

Farther into the building there would be bigger shelves for rows and rows of books, organized by type. The color scheme was influenced by the one in your home, as you decided to hand paint metal shelves light blues, greens, and yellows. Most would be bought, but you were planning a book drive far out for people to donate old books and get discounts on new ones. It’s an idea you had wanted to do in Manchester but never got around to.

Now that the front of the store was cleared out and bare, it was time to paint. The hours fly by as you paint the light blue wall while Phil and Terrance work on a cream wall on the other side. When you blink, the sun is already down, and your watch is flashing 10PM at you.

“Guys it’s almost ten! I think we ought to lay down the brushes for tonight.” Phil opened his mouth to respond but is cut off by a harsh pounding at the locked front door. It was supposed to be clear, but there was newspaper on all of your windows to prevent the glass from getting paint on it. Frowning, you moved to open the door, but Terrance stopped you with his arm out, his other hand reaching for his gun. “Go into the office, ma’am.” You followed his command reluctantly, Phil following on your heels as you went into the back office. It didn’t have any windows, so it was a space you did not want to be in for a while. Phil looked nervous, running his hand through his hair and tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Phil. Probably one of the neighbors complaining about our music.” You insisted on a jam session as you painted, blasting music from a speaker you stole from the Castle. “Shady things happen in London no matter what time, boss.” You shrug, picking up your phone to quell your nerves. A glance at your notifications explains everything.

Oh no.

You burst from the office, phone already returning one of your many missed calls. That’s when you ran into your husband, face hitting his hard chest with a harsh oof. “Christ, sweetheart, gave me a near heart attack.” John steadied your shoulders with his large hands, anchoring you in his grip. His brow was furrowed, eyes crinkling in worry as he scanned you up and down like he was looking for injuries. “You didn’t answer-” “Everything good out here?” Fuck. Phil.

“Who are you?” It was a tone you’d never heard come out of John’s mouth. You imagined it was his mafia man voice, gruff and short like he had a better place to be. John shoves you behind him, reaching for his gun. You rolled your eyes, hand covering his to stop a potential shoot-out.

“John, he’s my-” “Assistant, sir. Good to put a name to the face, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You could practically hear Phil winking, laying on the Southern charm. You wrestled out of John’s grip, stepping out from behind his back. Phil’s hand was out for a handshake, but John hadn’t taken it, scanning the man up and down with suspicious eyes. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve never heard about you.” John tore his gaze away to catch yours, eyes slanted in anger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, John. I’ve got my own life, you know.” He looked almost hurt at your words, which couldn’t be true. Sure, you were fucking, but it’s not like this was a normal marriage. You knew he wouldn’t have wanted Phil working with you, just on the basis of him being a man. You didn’t want to be micromanaged by your own husband, so you simply hadn’t got around to telling him.

“C’mere.” John tugged you towards the office, his grip hard. You could hear Terrance telling Phil to go home and wait for an update. Probably for the best. You imagined Terrance following him out, then debriefing with John’s driver about how much of an asshole their boss was.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” John asked, arms crossed and face red. He’d shut the office door but remained standing since there wasn’t any furniture yet. “Because I knew you’d get like this.” You spit out, crossing your arms to mirror his. “Fuckin’ concerned fer the security of my wife? Tha’s a bad reaction?” You took a step back from him, crossing your arms tighter so you could pinch your waist, a reminder to stay strong.

“Controlling and caveman. This is my place of work, John, and you’ve embarrassed me in front of my coworker.” He doesn’t meet your eye, staring at the door so hard it might burst into flames. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, muscles trembling from restraint. “Ya don’t realize how many enemies I have. Every person needs t’ be checked.” Did he think you were stupid? “I had Terrance check him out. I know you don’t want me around your work, but I’m not an idiot, John.”

His rejection of your offer to travel with him weeks ago had stung more than you cared to admit. He clearly didn’t trust you, only seeing you as someone to fuck around with. You didn’t realize how far that lack of trust went.

“He should’ve reported it to Gaz.” John mutters. “He did. I know that for a fact.” John ran a hand through his hair, then dipped down to tug at his tie. “He didn’t fuckin’ tell me. Christ, he’s worse than I thought.” You wanted to ask what that meant, but you bit your lip instead. He obviously didn’t want to tell you.

“Look, I know I’m a bastard and you had that goddamn clause in the contract, but you can trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.” That got John’s gaze to snap back to you, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Tha’s wha’ ya think this is about?” You nod, suddenly unsure. “Sweetheart, that was Gaz’s idea. T’ see if you’d argue. I intended for you to ask fer another cheatin’ clause fer me, but ya didn’t so I let it go. ‘S nothin’ like tha’. Plus, I didn’t know ya then. I know ya now.” Oh.

“So you trust me?” What about the trip? You wanted to ask, but you figure that would show your hand too much. John nods slowly, uncrossing his hands to put them on his hips. “Don’t care tha’ yer a bastard. ‘M not fuckin’ anyone else, either. I’m just concerned fer yer safety.” He takes a few steps towards you, gauging your reaction to see if you step back. You don’t, uncrossing your arms and praying they don’t shake. He grabs your hands in his own, blue eyes swimming with openness. There are so many things you want to ask him about: your childhood, his father, the future. They all fall to the wayside when he leans down to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “If I didn’t trust ya, ya wouldn’t sleep in my bed.” He kisses your forehead, then cheek, before pulling back. “I need ya t’ believe me.” He demands it seriously. A sudden rush of affection hits your heart. He looks so truthful, so concerned, and you want to show him that same care back.

You lower to your knees. John steps back, unsure. “Sweetheart, ya don’t have to.” You shake your head, beckoning him to come near. “I want to.”

John tugs off the blazer he’s wearing, folding it into a light pillow. He squats down on his haunches, eyes on yours. A warm hand brushes your knees, urging you up so he can slip the blazer under them. He then stands; blue eyes dark as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Go’on, baby. Take whatever you want.”

You reach for his black belt, unfastening it with trembling hands. It unclips with ease, and John’s hands, hairy and veiny and strong, cloud your vision as he unfurls it from his belt loops. You continue downwards, undoing the midnight black of his button. You unzip slowly, licking your lips in anticipation. His fingers brush back the creases on your forehead, trailing down to brush the shell of your ear. “Feel ok?” You nod at his question, cupping him through his boxers. John releases a sharp exhale, a heady sense of power coming over you. You work the pants down fully to give you room, petting him this way and that.

Finally, you peel down the dark fabric of his boxers. He’s hairy but well-maintained, similar to his fuzzy torso you’ve felt in bed. His cock is thick and heavy, wet with precum as it slaps against his upper thigh. You tuck his boxers down to give you room, then start exploring. Kitten licks to the base of him, his hair tickling your nose. Your hand joins you to squeeze his balls, eliciting a sharp groan. John tugs on your hair, more out of instinct than control. “You feel ok?” You throw his words back at him, a cheshire smile growing as he moans again.

“Christ, those fuckin’ hands.” He responds. You move to start stroking, licking him from base to tip. He tastes like salt and musk, but clean with the scent of pine. It’s the most addicting scent on earth. After he’s wet and leaking, you steady yourself with a hand on his upper thigh and the other on your husband’s cock.

You finally take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. You hum and his grip on your hair tightens. “‘M gonna fuck yer mouth sometime.” You let go of him with a pop, leaning backwards. “Not tonight?” He shakes his head, reaching down to pump his cock in your absence. “I’m a few strokes from cummin’, sweetheart. You look too goddamn good on yer knees.” That earns a grin from you and a renewed sense of vigor.

You suck him hard this time, your hand making up the length you can’t cover. You work yourself into an easy rhythm, up and down as he cradles your face. It’s much softer than you’ve ever experienced from a man, careful and protective. He wasn’t kidding about how close he is, harsh pants emitting faster and faster from his chest. “Where d’ya want me, baby?” You don’t respond, keeping him in your mouth. All you do is blink sweetly, willing your eyes to look bigger than usual. “Fuckin’ perfect, my wife.” That sends a jolt to your heart, and you have to stop yourself from accidentally biting down. Instead of responding, you stroke faster and faster. His abs tense, and you pull back just slightly, letting him coat your tongue and lips. It’s salty but not bitter, a marker of how fucking healthy he is. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly. His thumb brushes off a bit from your nose, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck hard, like you did the night he first fingered you. He continues cleaning you up, careful and quiet in his movements. John tucks himself back into his pants and offers you a hand to help you off the floor.

“Your knees sore?” He whispers. You shake your head, suddenly feeling exposed despite not having taken your clothes off. “C’mere.” He tugs you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. “We good?” He asks. You want to say no, want to ask him all the questions swirling around in your head, but all you do is nod and hold him closer.

In the car, John’s hand on your thigh, your phone vibrates. It’s Phil.

Everything ok?

Yep! Marital problems, all good.

Your husband is intense.

He’s a sweetheart for me, all that matters 🙂

Good to know. See you tomorrow.

His tone is odd, but you shove that thought from your mind. John squeezes your hand, and you tuck your phone away, content to focus on your husband. Phil is the farthest thought from your mind.

um. smut. now they're like friends with problems? idk enemies got boring.

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betrayusofficalwife · 1 day ago

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🍓 if they weren’t electrocuted to death, they would be the ruler of Pac world after wining the war

🍒 scaring others, hurting Pac and his friends and kidnapping the repository

🍎 Slug juice

🍉 nope they are not, but they do feel like a god though

🍑 at first, he didn’t believe me all that well when we met, but over the years, he finally understood what being kind is and only gave it to me, but he hides it in secret because it feels like he shouldn’t be showing weakness to anyone else

🍊 they know I’ll just bite into it, peels and all

🥭 they have a stuffed animal, it’s a pink rabbit that he gave me and I have it irl. We both share it. His name is Mr, Evil snufflebunnykinz

🍍 I will be in his school and change his life, dating and supporting him, making sure he gets love that he deserves

🍌 *shrug* we don’t know what that is, but Betrayus is secretly scared of lightning

🍋 he wouldn’t change a thing, he thinks he’s perfect and handsome already, which he is

🍋‍🟩 he doesn’t believe any of that crap

🍈 he kinda does and doesn’t, he believes that he will eventually take over Pac world

🍏 he’s actually doesn’t give a crap about that stuff, could care less. In his words it’s “I don’t care about that dumb LGBTQ shit, I’m more focused on trying take over Pac world and become more powerful than my brother!”

🍐 he checks out his claws and sharpens them

🥝 even if I tried, his slime/ectoplasm will make it come right off, nothing sticks onto him

🫒 he don’t like hugs from anyone BUT me

🫐 neither, he’s just determined about what he wants

🍇 probably still sulking and crushing over that dumbass Spheria person

🥥 planning world domination, abusing his buttler and that scientist Dr Buttocks. He also loves seeing people get hurt

🍅 he’ll steal them actually

🌶️ he can’t get sick anymore

🫚 He will not eat vegetables or anything healthy

🥕 immediately yes, he HATES them

🧅 when his mom yells at him, such a big baby

🌽 the only one we have in common is dragons, we both love dragons. But he likes poodles, which I used to like as a kid but I like cats

🥦 seeing pac man and literally everyone else unless he knows he can manipulate them

🥒 I don’t really think so

🥬 he’s a walking red flag

🫛 he likes them, but he doesn’t wanna use them in public, it could “mess up his reputation”

🫑 he never told me if he was or not, but he’s dead already so there’s nothing he’s afraid of which is a lie

🥑 wanting to be a ruler

🍠 hurt others, check his claws, sleep, laugh at his brother, or cuddle with me

🍆 They don’t have a favorite scent, I don’t think he can even smell anything…

🥔 he doesn’t know how to cook, but he also don’t like to cook, he usually orders someone else to do it

🍄‍🟫 he definitely wants to be human again

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

🫑 - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

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wolvietxt · 2 days ago

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𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.

you had said yes because it mattered to him.

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.

he didn’t notice.

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”

“frank, i’m fine - ”

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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daemonbrain · 18 hours ago

Text

Part 1

3.5k, cw: ghosts a pervert and stalker, readers husband is a piece of work, brief mentions of sex, explicit, not proofread

Simon Riley wasn’t one for the romantics, he was a simple man. Wake up early in the morning just as he would on base, complete his training regimen, take a quick shower, and rot away in his one bedroom one bathroom apartment until he's recalled for a mission. A mundane life for the soldier who dealt with life-or-death circumstances just as many times as he’s brewed himself a cup of tea.

But even Simon had things to look forward to. After enduring the monotonous routine of his week he’d practically sprint to the butcher's shop, not for love of the finer cuts of meat one could find, but to see his bird.

Still the fittest thing he had ever seen, your relationship evolved from standing with your back turned to his debauched stares to you actually saying hello to him. Slowly hello turned to little conversations. By conversations, it mainly consisted of you prattling on about one thing or another while Simon grunted out a short “yeah?” or “hm.” Sometimes he felt bad that his pretty little thing who always had endless things to say spoke to him, someone who was pretty much a brick wall in conversation.

But, ah well. He couldn’t think of you banging on the headboard while he fucked you and fully pay attention to what was said in his defense.

At times he didn’t know whether to scold or praise your ability to dole out kindness to even a cold bastard like him. A stranger was what he was, and you still managed to speak to him as if he were any other man you’d meet on the street.

He didn’t deserve it, he knew that. Not with the things he has done to others. Things that would send your pretty little head toppling off your shoulders if you knew. Not with the way he prowled behind as you shakily made your way up the slippery sidewalk, plastic bag with groceries in hand.

He didn’t deserve it, but he was sure as hell certain your fuckwit of a husband definitely didn’t deserve it. That prick left you walking alone and cold the whole way home, letting you know minutes before he was supposed to pick you up from the butcher’s shop.

That pathetic guy didn’t want to take care of his wife? Didn’t want to pay attention to his girl? Well fine, he didn’t need to. Simon would.

As if it physically pained him to watch you have to lift a finger, he sped up his pace and loudly cleared his throat from behind.

Whirling around in fright, your tensed shoulder immediately relax upon meeting Simon’s eyes. Your body shivered from the winds, yet you beamed at him with the warmth of the fuckin’ sun.

“Simon! What are you doing here?” You chirped out in greeting, clasping your hands together as the bag dangled from your fingers. You waited for him to stalk up to you, broody as ever.

His pretty little songbird, who tweets out her hellos even when the frigid weather demands a more mellow tone.

In his usual unsettling manner, he stops right in front of you. “I live up this way.” He lied.

“Really?! I’ve never seen you coming up this way.” He was so close. He had to crane his neck downwards to look at your face, cheeks and nose probably frozen from the biting wind. Your brows furrowed in what he assumed to be suspicion, and he truly wondered for the first time if you actually had a semblance of survival instinct after all.

Raising a brow, he points to a random building in the distance. He picked something far enough away from your own home to quell any unease.You lived in that reddish-brown building about two blocks away. Though you’ve never told him that.

“Just righ’ up there. Usually don’t go this way, but the other route is closed off.”

Your furrowed brows quickly correct themselves at his words and you assume your resting expression, one much softer. “Well… we might as well head up together then!” You laughed in joy and Simon felt his cock twitch for similar reasons. It seems the concept of “stranger danger” wasn’t drilled into your head hard enough during your formative years.

He’d never dream of doing something to hurt your cheery demeanor, but he couldn’t say the same for others. People can be nasty and, if you survived this long without that bubble being burst, he’d be more than happy to tear apart the prick who’d try. Pricks like your husband.

Wasn’t it a soldier's duty to protect the peace? Something like that anyways.

He noticed the way your poor fingers stiffly held on to the bag, the weight harder to carry because of the chill in the air. His hands itched to help.

You quirked your head to the side due to his lack of anything to say and Simon merely jutted his head towards what you carried, “Give it ‘ere.” Your mouth opens to protest, but Simon doesn’t give you the opportunity as he easily plucks the bag from your hands. “Come on,” He began to walk again while ignoring his bird’s shrill whistles of objection to his help “You’ll catch a cold out ‘ere if we don get’cha inside soon.”

Catching up to his long strides, you approach from the right and sigh. You’re inclined to tell him it’s really not necessary, but the heat that bloomed in your chest as a result of his breathy chuckle interrupted you.

You didn’t even need to ask him to help... he just did.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes wondered about his large frame, and he was huge. You had to admit the first time you had spoken to Simon you were a bit rattled when you stuck your hand out to shake his. It was maddening the way he never made a sound, the way his steps quietly padded along the floor when he went up to the counter at the butcher’s shop to pay.

Occasionally you felt your skin prickle everytime he stood behind you. Whenever you gathered the courage to take a peek you would be met with the sight of him tapping away at his phone without a care, hood of his jacket concealing most of his face.

Though you could’ve sworn his phone was upside down once?

Cars whizzed past and you shook away those thoughts. Simon happens to be a quiet type, nothing to judge him for.

“... Thank you. You know, you’re a real nice guy.” Shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket, Simon slows his steps just enough to move behind you. “Simon?” You turn your head side-to-side in confusion as he nudges his way to your other side.

“Wha’?” He huffed while putting himself between you and the road.

Odd.

The two of you got closer to the building and in a practiced stop you both pause at the entrance. About to speak again, you’re cut off by the loud ring of your phone. Looking down you see your husband's photo pop up on the screen. With a sigh, you hold up a finger to your companion and answer.

“Hey hun, is something wrong? You said you had a meeting?” You could hear the exhale of annoyance which escaped him before he responded.

“I’m working late tonight. I can’t make it for dinner. Make sure to leave me a plate before you go to bed though.” Of course. He was always late nowadays. One project or another he would say before rolling to face away when you asked him about his day before bed.

You were his wife! You’d make time for him no matter what, and normally you wouldn’t want to be a bother, but the way tears threatened to bead your waterline in frustration caused your voice to harden a fraction.

“Again? Really? They’re working you a bit hard, don’t you thi-”

“I have work. I’ll talk to you later.”

You blink owlishly at Simon who looks back in silence. You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Slowly, you pull your phone away from your ear both saddened by your husband's cold words but also the humiliation of your new friend witnessing the way you were clearly hung up on by your own spouse.

You wanted to turn heel and retreat into the privacy of your apartment. Cook up a meal which will grow cold on the counter and curl into your bed while incessantly tracking the minutes until you hear the door open.

Simon’s eyes narrowed as if he wanted to burn a hole through your phone, and he waited for you to gather yourself.

“I- um,” letting out an awkward chortle, you scratch the back of your neck. “Looks like I'm alone for dinner tonight.” You managed a disingenuous smile. Simon didn’t seem like the type to be able to pick up on subtle social cues like that, you doubt he’d think anything of your words.

“Well I better get back inside… it's freezing out here. Thanks for your help with my bags I-I just have to get started on cooking right now, so.” You reached for your groceries and saw the strange look in his eyes soften a bit. As you pivot towards the entrance, you hear a gruff call.

“ ‘m pretty hungry righ now.”

…How could you be such an idiot! He carries your bags for you, probably chilled to the point of numbness, and you don’t even invite him in for something to eat. Not even a hot drink. All because of your own selfish discomfort?!

“Oh gosh, that was rude of me. Simon, you wanna come in? I have enough to whip you up a plate if you’d like. A ‘cuppa’ as well. Is that what you say?” You asked.

Simon was a kind man. He was intimidating, but surely it was okay to let him into your personal space. After all, the only person who would object to his presence was currently holed up at his office.

“Brought it up for a reason. That’d be great, love.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart pattered in your rib cage at the endearing pet name. Kind words from a kind man. That’s all. You willed your heart to slow with images of your husband, to whom you had the utmost respect for.

The two of you made your way up to the spacious apartment. You bent over to unlace your shoes and take off your coat. It doesn’t go unnoticed how it took Simon a moment to follow suit. When he stood to his full height, a gentle warmth swelled within you when met with the sight of his broad build in the now seemingly small walls of your home. He looked as though he crowded the room more than any of the furniture.

You felt a bit hazy when you moved to the kitchen. You shouted back to Simon who stood put at the door, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable! Go ahead and sit down anywhere.”

Like a flower, you needed your fix of sunlight. You had lots of windows in your apartment to let the natural light in, a giant one looking into your living room. Simon would see you watching your silly shows, tapping away at your laptop while snuggled under a blanket in this very spot. Soon he’d show you the value of privacy, closing the blinds, locking everything before bed.

There were shady people in the world. Those who’d feed off of your sweet carelessness like it was the best thing to touch their depraved mouths. That wasn’t fair to his bird.

“ ‘m gonna go to the loo.” and before you even had the chance to give him directions, you watched the Brit make his way to the restroom unprompted.

It wasn’t fair, but he would make it fair. He would keep those bastards far away from you, guard your blissful paradise. Keep you ignorant.

So what if his methods were unconventional? So what if he’s followed you home dozens of times. It was to keep you safe. So what if he spent any free time he had watching you through the windows from the building across yours.

Closing the door behind him, his lips quirked up at the sight of your things strewn about. Makeup, hair products, lotions taking up all the space on your side of the sink. In the mirror, his eyes caught on the laundry hamper sat in the corner. He had been here once before.

So what if he has come into your apartment during the late hours just to catch a whiff of your scent. Just to pull the blanket you had knocked off, deep asleep, while on the couch waiting for your prick husband. You needed someone. He could do good by you, or at least try his hardest to.

With practiced ease, he turns to open the hamper. Hands grabbing with the eagerness of unwrapping a present only to be met with a sorry sight.

“For fuck sakes” He whispered.

You and your cleaning. The damn thing had been emptied out of all things with your lovely fragrance, tossed in the wash. With the quick roll of his eyes, he quietly puts the lid back on to the stupid thing.

He had been much luckier last time. After taking it upon himself to sneak in and close a window you left wide open, he had the urge to explore around. Fast forward to when he arrived at his treasure chest (the laundry basket) he was rewarded for his considerate act. He had nabbed a dirty pair of panties with sheer ecstacy.

In the natural progression of things, his cock had hardened with urgency. He had stroked himself eagerly to the thought of your soft, snoozing breaths. A bead of pre-cum already poised to roll down his shaft. You drove him mad, only a few walls separating the two of you. He could walk over to you now, shove your legs apart and sink himself into paradise, in pure euphoria. He continued to jerk himself to the edge of his peak. He had taken in the sight of everything from your loofah to your robe to the pink toothbrush unobtrusively in the corner.

A shiver went down his spine as he looked at the very same toothbrush at present. He wondered how many times you had unassumingly used it since that night.

Images of his desperation flooding back, a hint of something akin to guilt. He had squeezed your panties to his face as if he was trying to suffocate himself, impatiently grabbing for anything else that could connect him to you when he felt himself begin to strain under the stimulation. He had grunted when your scent filled his nostrils, unlike how his balls emptied themselves, his release spurting all over your toothbrush.

When he came back to his senses, he had turned the coated thing over and over in his hand. You’d be none the wiser if he just… washed it off, right? No harm in something you wouldn’t know about. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than lightly run it under the tap.

“Simon! Food is ready!” You shouted. Breaking from his stupor, he steps out of the restroom and moves back to the counter overlooking the kitchen. You gave him that sweet grin while setting the food in front of him.

“Looks delicious, love. Thanks.”

You sat on the seat beside him with a plate of your own. You both tensed at the proximity for the same reason. Taking your first few bites, you look at Simon who blissfully closes his eyes and groans with satisfaction.

That warm feeling begins to simmer in your belly wrongfully so. You turn back to chew before breaking the silence. “I’m glad! It’s been a while since i’ve sat down and ate with someone… it’s a lot different to watch someone actually enjoy something you put effort into.” He didn’t miss the wistful expression you wore. He wanted to fix it, he never wanted to see that pretty mouth fighting stay curved upwards.

Whether it be unknowingly or not, you brushed your knee against and for a moment you both paused in that position. The touch was light but it felt as though Simon’s body was overloaded with only you. Your touch, your eyes, your everything.

It took himself a second to recompose himself, but when he realized your body stayed put; his heart just about soared. Taking another forkful of food, he casually glanced at you and nudged his knee unmistakably to yours. The sound of your cutlery clanging onto the plate gives him a degree of satisfaction.

You simply kept looking down to your plate, whatever was in front of you, anything except his intense stare. Simon was a stranger. Simon was unsettling. Simon was in your home. Simon was so strong, so large he could manhandle you in ways your husband could never.

Your husband. Your life partner who you’ve remained loyal to for years. This was so wrong. You should be leaping out of your chair and separating yourself by 3 meters at least in protest.

So how come you allowed his hand to grip your thigh? You frowned, yet surrendered to his fingers which tilted your face towards him. You didn’t know Simon, but you’d be dense to miss the dark glint in his eyes as he takes in your hesitancy.

How the tables have turned. It was always you who initiated interaction with the morose giant, but as he held you firm in his clutches, you could only sit in wait for his next move.

Testing your reaction, he slowly brought his face closer to yours. Braving his gaze, you could only recognize want. He pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw as you tilted your chin upwards. You weren’t sure whether it was to avoid his lips or grant him better access to your neck.

“No no no come back to me. Come back.” He urged you carding his other hand through your hair, tugging you back. He had to see his bird's face, commit her to memory. Would her expression be like what he imagined? Better?

With a shaky raise of your arm, you caress his face with uncertainty. He needed to fuck you. The most depraved, wicked parts of his mind demanded it. His blood went straight down south at your gentle touch. He needed you to feel him, to feel all of him.

He would protect you from all the perversions those other tossers had to offer, with only one thing in return. To corrupt you from the inside with his own special brand filth. His fingers tightened ever so slightly in your hair.

“I wanna fuck you,” he leaned closer to your ear and nipped it “and I have a feeling my pretty bird wants the same thing, yeah?”

Simon’s words sent a jolt to your brain to sink further into the daze. Your lips parted and you turned to him with round eyes hiding the temptation swirling behind them. Your eyes wildly roved across his face, searching

He carried your things, he called you pretty, he ate your food, he talked to you, he wanted you, he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him-

His impatience got the better of him when he pulled you into a frantic kiss. His lips were warm and the feeling of his hands holding you secure and upright only added fuel to the fire. How would they hold you when he took you to your bed? Would he be so kind?

Had Simon known your phone would ring loudly moments before finally getting what he wanted, he would have broken it with his own bare hands.

Your eyes cracked open to only be met with the sight of your husband’s contact photo and all at once your guilt hurtled at you. Sensing you pulling away, Simon couldn’t help but try and keep you to him for even a moment longer. He knew it was over when you pushed at his chest to break the connection.

“I’m- oh my gosh. I… i’m a horrible person! Shit! Shit!” You spiraled as you hurriedly got up from your seat and backed away from Simon as if his touch had burned you.

“Hey, hey it’s okay-” He attempted to console you, but was sharply interrupted with a tone he had yet to hear from you.

“No, no! You need to leave. Get out, please!” You screeched in shame. As Simon once again tried to approach closer to placate you, you only put a hand up with a hard look. “Leave. We shouldn’t have done that, it was a total betrayal of trust!”

“Okay. Okay. Don’t worry, ‘m gone.” His arms went up in surrender as he mirrored your own backward movements.

Your mind really went blank as you took deep breaths to calm yourself, Simon’s heavy footfalls receding and eventually fading from earshot entirely.

While you focused on calming yourself from your “mistaken” judgement, Simon could only think of one thing.

If his bird couldn’t be happy because that fuckin’ asshole was still in the picture, he’d have to weed out the problem from the root.

He was a dead man walking.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost cod

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edward-munson · 3 days ago

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ice cream | E.M.

Summary: It's present day, there's smartphones, social media and Spotify. You and Eddie discover you hold feelings for each other, in a very different way. He likes to show you intimate things he sees on his Twitter and you decide to try it out. (A/N: You'll know why it's called ice cream hehe)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI, masturbation, protected sex (p in v), mentions of slight kink

Word count: 3.8k

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

You usually invite Eddie over before going out. It's like a ritual you've been doing over the years, and you both have a few beers as a warm-up too. Sometimes you get more excited and tend to make some drinks for yourself. Sometimes you get him to do it with you.

He's sitting in the easychair on the corner of your bedroom, scrolling through his phone as he listens to his playlist on Spotify. You're finally getting ready after taking a shower and getting dressed first before doing your makeup. Eddie doesn't bother to look at you when you're only in your lingerie, he doesn't care because he's respectful. And that's absolutely charming to you.

He shows you memes and reels in his Instagram and gets you distracted since you're both a little tipsy from the alcohol. He gets on Twitter and snorts when he sees a page that posts different sex positions every day. Sometimes, they're too awkward and maybe a little too much for him.

He's the kind of a missionary guy but he also likes to bend someone over and hit from the back. Which is something he normally doesn't do much, but it's one of his favorite things to do.

You two have never done anything, although you have a great connection and sometimes it makes people think you're together. They always think you're hooking up or going out. Even your friends think that too. It's unbelievably sweet when you're together, because he treats you well. He likes to take care of you, but not like in an older brother way.

As your best friend, Robin tells you that you should invest in this relationship, but you wouldn't wanna ruin it. You know he wouldn't ruin it, but it's been so good that way. It's hard to actually take a step further.

And then when you ask him what he just saw, he turns his phone at you and shows you the picture. "Position 187: Ice Cream" You read out loud.

The image shows a man sitting on his knees, while a woman sits on top of him, her back on his chest, her hands on his thighs as he holds her breasts with both hands. You sure have never tried that before, though. And it shows Eddie hasn't either.

"It's a cute name, isn't it?" He asks as he continues to scroll on his phone.

While you pick a fine dress to put on, you look over your shoulder and laugh. "I don't get why it's called that, but whatever suits them"

You fix the straps of the light blue dress over your shoulder and suddenly you hear Eddie clearing his throat behind you. For a second, you thought it was his dirty imagination picturing himself doing that with someone, so you don't mind him.

But when you turn on your heel to pick your makeup case, you see him looking you over from the corner of his eyes.

"Eddie, sweetheart" You call him out and he looks up at you. Puppy brown eyes trying to play dumb.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You having a good time checking me out?" You muse, making fun of the way he was focused on looking at your curves.

Eddie widens his eyes and tries to pretend he didn't do anything. He waves you off and looks back at his phone, again, pretending he didn't do anything. But this time, the screen is off and you can't help but cackle.

"You scroll your phone with the screen turned off?"

He tries to laugh at it, but it comes off as a nervous laugh. He didn't think he was being indiscreet like that. Eddie looks up at you and bites his lips.

"Fine, I was. But, it's your fault! Look at you all gorgeous wearing that dress" He heaves dramatically.

You pick up his phone off his hand and place it over your nightstand. You don't know where you got that extra confidence, the crazy idea you just had in your mind, but you used it in your favor, sitting down on his lap.

Eddie looks at you funny, a weird expression over his face when he sees you sitting on his thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring your lips close to his ear.

"Do you wanna try ice cream with me? While I wear this dress?" You ask in a whisper, fanning his skin.

Eddie holds your waist carefully, but there's a small electricity travelling through his bloodstream as you stay this close to him. He knew he was a goner for you a while ago, he just didn't want to admit it. He didn't think he would have a chance with you anyway. He just never tried. Steve and Jonathan told him you guys were a match long before, but he didn't listen.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, not feeling like he was able to speak. There's a rush in his head for a few seconds, because he feels his underwear getting too small for his ingrown bulge. You use his reaction as leverage and plant sweet and wet kisses over his neck, feeling the way his skin was shivering.

You trailed his scruffy beard, enjoying how the small hairs tickled your skin. In the background, a song by Black Sabbath filled the air that was becoming dense from the tension. He used his left hand that was free and placed it tenderly on your thigh, his fingertips grazing your skin. His fingers were just a few inches far from your groin, your own body reacting to his touch.

"I– I would love to, sweetie. But you don't think it's wrong?" He asks, holding back the urge to throw you over your bed and bend you.

You shake your head as a response, trying to make him comfortable and confident. You slide one hand down his chest, his t-shirt covering him. It's a shame he doesn't like to wear buttoned shirts, because otherwise you would've ripped it off by now. His lips are forming a thin line, like he's trying to absorb the idea, because he really wants it.

You already feel his hard cock touching the side of your leg and it makes you want him even more. Eddie doesn't want to just fuck you, because you're not just someone else to him. He wants to give you pleasure, he wants to give you a good time. He wants you to feel good and not used.

He wraps one hand around your neck, like he just figured out you liked being held that way and pulled you against him. He kisses you hurriedly for a few seconds, before clashing his tongue against yours. He tastes the beer you had, it's kind of bitter and sweet at the same time. He breathes through his mouth and forces his eyes shut.

You pull the collar of his clothing while you pull back the hair from the nape of his neck. It's a fervent and sweet kiss, you both play with your tongues as you deepen it, feeling him move a little under you.

It takes a lot of you to break the kiss, but the urgency of having him inside of you was growing uncontrollably and he felt it too. You got up from his lap and pulled his hand until you were both standing on the foot of your bed.

The hem of your dress went up a few inches and Eddie glanced at your ass for a small fraction of time. He wanted to touch it, grab it, squeeze it and even bite it if it was possible.

"How do you want it, Eds?" He felt his heartbeat quicken as he heard his nickname rolling off your tongue sweetly.

He immediately unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, getting rid of it, feeling a small relief. You grazed his bulge in your small hand and gave it a little squeeze, making Eddie grab your face and kiss you again. It wasn't even romantic, it was desperate and lustful. You stroked him through his underwear and he buckled his hip forward in response.

"Turn around, sweetie" He asked in a rushed, husky tone and you obeyed.

You faced your bed, your knees touching the end of it. He carefully placed a hand on the small of your back and bent you over, making you lean against the mattress. You heard him groan, before giving your ass a light squeeze with both hands. He didn't even bother taking off his rings.

"Such a pretty ass, fucking God" He praised you, his voice a little deep.

He spread kisses all over your skin before surprising you with a slap on one cheek. It wasn't hard and it didn't hurt, which surprised you. You immediately felt your stomach sink as you started to feel turned on. Eddie slapped the other cheek and praised it, kissing it back. His hand was soft but you could feel his calloused fingertips stroking your skin gently.

He went straight to your bedside table and grabbed a condom. He wanted to do it right, and he knew what you kept in there because he saw it once. It wasn’t intentional but it came in handy.

He pulled his shirt off and wrapped his cock, jerking off slightly taking a step back to have a better look at you. Eddie couldn't believe he was actually doing it with you. He dreamed of this countless times but he never told anyone, not even Steve.

He kept his hand around his length firmly and stared at your ass, your cunt glistening from your arousal.

He stepped forward again before he pulled your underwear to the side. You felt your pussy throbbing for him already, you were soaking for him and you whimpered as you felt his fingers collecting your wetness.

His fingers weren't like you imagined, he softly stroked your slit and used two fingers to massage your clit, your legs started to buckle immediately and you had to prop yourself before you dropped your weight on the bed. He drew circles around you, his other hand was planted on your ass.

You mewled and had to bite your lower lip when he pushed his thumb inside of your pussy. It was enough for you to feel the roughness of his skin and how thick it actually is. Eddie pushed it further and felt your walls contracting from his touch, keeping a slow pace as he moved it back and forth.

"Oh my God, Eddie" You moaned his name and his cock jumped up to the sound of your voice.

He slapped you again with his other hand, fucking you with his fingers, stroking your clit as his thumb touched your inside mercilessly. You started to ride his fingers, gripping the sheet tightly as you felt the pleasure rising up in your body.

He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, drunk on his touches and whimpering his name. He bit his lip from groaning because he didn't want to look miserable, when in fact, he was already feeling too lost in his own thoughts.

"You look so hot from up here, sweetie" He rasped, his heart was racing and he felt his own legs trembling.

You didn't want him to stop, but at the same time, you wanted to ride him, to feel him balls deep inside of you. His fingers were fast but gentle and it was making you feel dizzy. His thumb was pressing against your most sensitive spot, giving you that blissful feeling.

You look over your shoulder, watching him shirtless, his necklace hanging over his chest and his dick hard rock almost touching your ass. Your throat left a sexual whimper that made him glance up at your eyes. Eddie licked his lip and hissed when he grabbed your ass and squeezed it.

You were exchanging a satisfying and lustful look, one that didn't make it uncomfortable to deal with. It was a knowing look, to be exact. His brain was barely functioning and when he pressed his forefinger against your clit, you didn't hold back the moan that left your mouth. He pulled his fingers back from you, they were wet and dripping over his hand.

You were still looking at him when you saw the way he didn't hesitate to taste you as he licked his fingers, pulling them inside his mouth, savoring your cunt. It was audible how he hummed in the back of his throat, closing his eyes and sucking his fingers.

You were still leaning on your knees, your cunt clenching at the sight of him doing it in front of you. You would never imagine this would happen. You would never actually imagine Eddie would be one to do such a thing, but it's just because you've never actually had an intimate relationship, not like that though.

He opened his eyes and dropped his hand, now looking deep in your eyes and he walks towards you and holds your ass with both hands.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" He asks, but you're in such a haze you barely understand what he's saying, just nodding.

Eddie holds his cock and pushes the tip into your pussy, the small entrance making his body rigid. It doesn't hurt for you, but it's a little bit uncomfortable because he's slightly thick. He slowly gets inside of you, and you contract your pussy around him so fast, he stopped breathing for a second.

His eyes closed forcefully, his hands gripped your ass tightly. As he felt the base of his shaft hitting you, he pulled back slowly and repeated his move. He started to thrust against you, feeling your cunt too tight against his cock. His senses were too heightened at this point, his hips pushing forward hitting your ass.

You couldn't stop heaving, crying lustfully and whimpering his name. His waist was slapping against you and the sound of his dick hitting your walls was making you moan louder.

"Fuck, Eddie. That's so good" You mewl and he thrusts harder against you in response.

"You're taking me so good, sweetie. So fucking good" He doesn't hide the way he wants to groan and vocalize his reactions and you loved it.

He slid his hand against your skin until he reached for your arms, pulling you up so you would lean your back against his chest. As the position changes, you feel him deeply inside of you. You can't express how much it makes your body shiver. He gently wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing it rather aggressively but still cautiously. He uses his other arm to hold your waist as he pounds on you.

He rests his chin against your shoulder, his breath hitting your ear. If he wasn't holding you, you would probably just turn into a puddle right in front of him. His cock fits in and you can feel his balls slapping against your skin as well.

You're both a mess of moans and grunts, the sound of the two of you mixing with the music of his playlist that was long forgotten. You're holding his forearm for support, your eyes closed as you concentrate on your pleasure.

Eddie is behind you, praising you next to your ear, fucking you senseless. His thrusts are becoming faster and you don't think you've ever felt this good before.

"You like that, huh?" He chuckles and his breath reaches your ear. His rough voice is echoing inside your head. You don't respond, you're too high. "You like me fucking you, sweetie?"

He suddenly stops pounding on you, filling your pussy with his cock until you feel the tip on your cervix. He reaches one of your breasts and grips it tightly. His other hand that's still resting on your neck, he squeezes it harder, enough for you to choke. Enough for you to still breathe. He knows how to manage it. It makes you feel more turned on for him.

You just nod, you're almost losing your senses. He kisses the curve of your neck, leaving a pepper kiss on it. He can almost taste the salty sweat of it. "You know what? I love it too"

He didn't give you time to recover, surprising you as he thrusted hardly against you, just once. "I love the way you taste, you're so sweet". One more thrust. "You look so gorgeous on your knees for me". Another one.

"Eddie, please" You plead, your voice almost faltering as you're still holding him. "Just keep going".

He likes to be dominant, but he also likes to be the bottom sometimes. But tonight, he wants to show you what he can do. It's not like he needs to prove anything to you, but he wants to make sure you have a good time with him. He wants to have all of it, he wants to enjoy it as much as he can.

"We're doing Ice Cream, remember?" He slowly asks, softly dropping his hand off your neck.

He gets on the mattress, sitting on his knees and he tries to adjust you on top of him, just like he saw in the picture. You position yourself on top of him, your knees up. You sink down and Eddie throws his head back, not expecting the sensation to be so overwhelming.

This time, you're doing most of the work. You ride him, your ass slapping against his thighs. Again, he wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you without much intensity. His other hand grips your hardened nipple and he tries to thrust up against you.

He knows his legs are going to hurt later, but he can handle the pain because it's worth it.

You throw your arm back and wrap it around his shoulders, holding him so you can easily ride him. The air started to feel damp, your bodies starting to sweat and stick to each other.

"You're so beautiful" He surprises you with a compliment and your cheeks flush. "So good to me. I wish I could've had asked you out before"

You don't know how to answer this. You're in pure bliss. Your head starts spinning and you're almost losing control of your body. He drops his hand lower until he reaches for your clit, but you stop him. You want to feel it all. You want to cum without that little help. He respects it and gets back to squeezing your breast firmly, pinching your nipple.

You're both in sync, him pounding on you, you sitting on him, balls deep. Eddie doesn't want to let go of you, but he knows he's going to cum soon. He kisses all over your skin, he savors your salty skin, he hums against it. He feels his stomach tying to a knot and he knows he's getting closer. But he wants you to go first.

"Cum for me, lovely. I want you to drench my cock" His words make you stagnant and you feel your legs squirming.

You start to roll your hips, squeezing his cock so hard he grips you harder entirely. You throw your head back as you feel yourself clenching around him, your hips stutter and your legs start shaking. He holds you closer and waits for you to come down from your high. Eddie feels your pussy throbbing against him, clenching around his dick tighter, swallowing him.

He feels your juices dripping down his cock as you tremble under his touch, you're almost convulsing. "Eddie, this is s'good" You mumble as you slowly start coming back to your senses.

He's not choking you anymore, he's not manhandling you, he's just holding you dearly for a few seconds before he starts stuttering as well.

His cock sputters cum all over inside of you, pulsing incessantly as he moans loudly against your ear. His arms squeeze you a little tight, his thighs contracting from both pleasure and tiredness. He rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, spreading lazy kisses against your skin. He stays a little longer, waiting for the buzz to slow down.

"This was so good sweetheart, you were perfect" He praises, dropping his arms down, gently lifting you up so he would pull out of you.

It's painful to leave from inside of you and he misses the feeling already. His dick still hard after a long orgasm. You don't have the energy to actually move, so you just sit there as you wait for him to throw out the condom. He puts on his underwear, crawling into your bed and sitting close to you.

He places his hand over your cheek that's still flushed and burning from the sweat. He licks his lower lip and smiles embarrassedly. "I think it's safe to say we've kinda ruined your dress".

You laugh kindly at his remark and nod. There is no way you're going to wear this to go out. And if anything, you probably need a shower. But before you get up, he pushes you closer and lays you down on your bed. He leans against his hand, his elbow resting on top of your pillow.

"Let's just take a breath for a moment, sweetie"

You agree, you just know it's going to be hard to walk now. Your legs are still shaking and they might as well feel like jell-o too. "You can still ask me out if you want, you know".

It catches him off guard when you say it. You've been wanting to go out with him for so long, it's only fair you two do it now. He smiles inwardly, looking down for a moment before he looks up at you again. He strokes your arm tenderly, going for your cheek again.

He's always been affectionate towards you, this time you think it's different and you feel butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

"I will, don't worry"

You stay like that for a few minutes, just trying to rest and relax before you decide to finally take a shower. He throws his t-shirt over his head, looking for his jeans and his socks. He doesn't even remember when he got rid of them in the first place.

You keep staring at him as he gets dressed. He has a few spare clothes in your closet, you know that. "You're not taking a shower after?"

He shakes his head, finally zipping up his pants, putting his sneakers on. "Nah, I'm a hard-rocker. We don't take showers".

Eddie shoots you the most generous smile and you can't help but giggle. You pick another dress and go to the bathroom while he just waits for you. The first thing he does is to text Steve and tell him what he just did. Not in detail, but he does. He can't rip the giant smile off his face.

This, thanks to the tweets he sees and shows you.

During the entire time you're with your friends at the karaoke bar, he can't stop looking at you. He can't stop thinking about the sex and how you trembled under him. He also can't believe he gave you one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life.

"It's never too late, man" Steve approaches his friend, tapping on his shoulder. Eddie looks at him and nods, staring back at you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x fem!reader #joseph quinn imagines

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snake-spire · 2 days ago

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So I’m not sure if I should talk about this or if it’s even worth mentioning but, there’s a post trying to villainize Harlan for posting about the US election and “promoting” Malevolent, if anyone has seen the twitter post and those in the Invictus discord would know. And is actively trying to make him out as ableist and racist, and I am absolutely floored by this response and how people aren’t really thinking about it deeper than that. I am censoring the person’s username because I don’t want them to be attacked. Just block them and move on if you end up finding the post.

First of all, Harlan lives in Canada, and I ask, why can’t he say anything to give his audience, who’s primarily queer and American, hope to push on? He uses his podcast as an example to make his point clearer. Because people can relate to it.

It’s insensitive to think that the United States live in this bubble that other people living in different countries can’t care about what’s going on, especially when Canada’s borders are now closed. And the fascist President is actively trying to make it the 51th state for god knows why. (This tumblr post was made at least two days ago)

I’ll come back to twitter because there is actually something about promoting Malevolent that can be seen as pushy (and I do think it was) but it really comes back to bite the op if you aren’t actively paying attention and can’t be bothered to look at the person’s account.

But there are three very heavy claims that this tweet makes that without thinking, are very damning. So let’s dissect that.

1. No one cares that most women characters are dead. And if they do, they really shouldn’t. Harlan is the sole creator of the show. He is the sole actor. Because he wants to. That’s his decision to not bring on other voice actors. Would it be nice? Yeah, absolutely. But I don’t care in the sense that I’m neutral about it. Who’s alive and who’s dead shouldn’t matter. And again, this idea that the women who have died had no impact on the story is diminishing their value as women. They didn’t die for the male lead (most of them anyway). They (especially in season one) were actively doing something and they are quite literally, the only reason the story is happening in universe. So yeah, if you want to be as shallow as possible, there are many dead women in the show. Congrats.

2. What ableist undertones? No really I would like to know. Is it because you think they’re ableist? There are 0 examples in the post to back this up. Are you claiming that the entire show’s undertones are ableist? I am working with absolutely nothing here. If you’re trying to make a “call-out” post or want people like me on your side, give me something. So yeah, I’m tossing that away because op never cares in the first place.

3. Now this is the second most damming thing in the post. Because it’s a somewhat serious allegation to frame Harlan as being racist. But that’s easy to refute: it’s in the name of Shub-Niggurath. And it’s barely in season 1.

Now I’m going to state an obvious fact: H.P. Lovecraft was racist. And there are far worst examples in his work with creatures just straight up named racial slurs and many of his works contain those on the basis. And it’s bad that he wrote that.

I want to make it clear that I am white, I’m not a person of color. And the op isn’t black either after I checked their page. So neither of us can fully comment on the “time period racial slurs” in Malevolent in full. But my college roommate who is black can. And they said it was absolutely ridiculous because there are no slurs being used as it’s a part of the name. and as that roommate pointed out to me, I guess we have to go after Arnold Schwarzenegger because of his last name.

And besides, if you’re going to get on Harlan for saying the name, what about every other piece of Lovecraftian media that included Shub? Because unlike Malevolent where she’s a small drop in the overall story, she’s actually integral to those pieces of media (ie: Sucker for Love 2)

Now remember how the racism accusation was the second most damming thing about the post?

Yeah I think the Nazi claim is there too.

And when someone asked in the reply for proof, the answer boiled down to, look it up. Because again, op couldn’t have been bothered to provide evidence or examples. Is that person still in there? How long ago was this? Does Harlan share those same views now? Does said Nazi still have those views?

I’m not implying that this did or didn’t happen. I don’t know because there is nothing to implicate anything. I shouldn’t have to do the work op couldn’t do themselves.

Now to circle back to the initial Twitter screenshot and something that Harlan can be viewed as being pushy about, I unfortunately couldn’t get a screenshot of the screenshot (again I blocked said person and I do not and will never get twitter) but I do know that when WolfytheWitch had started their listen of Malevolent and got to episode 20, they made a tweet about it and Harlan @ ed them. He had mentioned how fans and Cain needed a distraction in trying times.

Do I find that pushy? Yeah. But again, I don’t really care. Because this show means a lot to people. And they know that if they need to shut the world out for a moment, it’s just a click away.

But what really irks me were the tags about Cain in OP’s reblog of the post where this section is. And it really goes to show that the op has no clue what they were talking about and couldn’t be bothered to provide examples and evidence.

Cain is from the Philippines. They do not live in America. And it’s in their bio everywhere. They don’t hide it. This isn’t a “oh I didn’t know.” It’s an “I couldn’t have been bothered to check.”

I don’t like the idea of call out posts. Hell, I don’t even like that I have to make this post in the first place but it doesn’t sit right with me because I want people to think critically when there is no evidence besides opinions. And the claim that he didn’t ban a nazi which again, I don’t know if that’s true or not because op should have at least provided evidence when throwing out a claim like that.

And I will iterate again, please if you end up finding the post or someone reblogged it, do not harass the op or the person that reblogged it. Because that’s gross and disgusting and you have no place here.

Now I’ve said my piece about a post I probably should have ignored. But I didn’t. Because it was eating me up all day today.

Stay safe y’all

-Snake-Spire

#most of these tags are just to spread the word #malevolent #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #john malevolent #kayne malevolent #private eyes #detective noel malevolent #oscar malevolent #the butcher malevolent #harlan guthrie #malevolent rambling #media analysis #masked

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yuikomorii · 1 day ago

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I love Yui she's such a nerd, honestly your blog is the whole reason I even like Yui now, I never disliked her but I never cared about her because she seemed kinda the basic " Nice girl " trope ( and I watched the anime first ) so I just ignored her but your blog put more light on her personality and now she is so much more interesting to me. I honestly wish we would get some more background info on her about her old life before the Sakamakis, we do kinda but not much.

When I thought Yui was a bland Nice Character only to realize she's a Clusmy, kinda slow, obsessive girl in love and somtimes just as crazy as the Sakamakis, like girrrl I've seen those Bad endings, Shuu More blood brute?? Ayato bad endings? Our true queen, say delulu in love Yui ❤️

// Haha, I’m glad to hear that. 💕💕

I don’t have anything against the “nice girl” trope, as long as it’s executed well and the girl has more depth than just being “too good for this world.” Yui might come across as your typical nice girl at first glance, but even outside the endings, she occasionally does or says things so unexpectedly problematic that you can’t help but wonder “What’s wrong with her?”. That said, she’s not meant to be a normal character, since this is a game made for people with masochistic fantasies, and we’re supposed to either play as her or put ourselves in her shoes. It’s pretty clear Yui has always had some underlying masochistic tendencies. After all, she started enjoying the bites during the Dark section of the HDB chapters, which isn’t exactly something a “normal” person would do… well, not so fast. 👀

Yui is a kind and stupid girl in general, but she can also be cunning and even worse than the Diaboys when mad, so that’s what makes her interesting. Honestly, I’m glad she’s crazy too, if she weren’t, I’d feel way too bad for her. At least this way, she shares some of the twisted traits of her men, which makes her dynamic with them feel more balanced. 😂😂

Speaking of those endings, every time I think about them, I get chills. I can understand the “I’ll get rid of everyone for senpai because he’s my precious senpai and mine alone!” type of Yandere you see in anime, but the ones who do something truly horrifying to the person they claim to love are on a whole other level of disturbing. At least in Shu’s one, she “only” stabs him and locks him in a dungeon to turn him into her one and only blood slave. But in Ayato’s ending? She literally paralyzes his entire body out of jealousy, leaving him unable to move or speak yet fully conscious of what’s happening, while she carries him around like an actual DOLL, and then she uses him for pleasure. It’s practically an allegory for reducing someone to a living sex doll—an object meant solely to look good and fulfill someone else’s desires, which is just next-level of messed up, lol.

Credit to: dialovers-translations

I even remember this screenshot from the Chinese edition where Yui says to a paralyzed Ayato, “Ayato, don’t go anywhere.” Girl, where was he even supposed to go?? You literally took away his ability to do anything. Even Karlheinz got creeped out! 😳

#admin #(GO QUEEN GET WHATEVER YOU WANT)#(Yui: If it’s mine then it stays mine)

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lexirosewrites · 6 hours ago

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Hiii I don’t usually go here, but I have had a few Disjointed Thoughts(™) for like WEEKS and I finally decided to share on this, the most holy (hole-y, hah) of days, Slick Sunday.

SO. O!Steve, A!Eddie, shocking. Steve is excruciatingly aware that, physically? He’s not really the Ideal Omega, at least by societal standards. Or his parents’ standards. Or his own, if he lets himself think about it too much, but that’s why he simply Does Not Think About It. Emotionally, he’s pretty solid. He absolutely loves his forcibly-adopted, feral, teenage pups. He’s excited to have his own one day, and to have an Alpha who loves him and their pups. He is always taking care of somebody, particularly the people he cares about, and most of the time it’s not even a conscious choice.

Physically, though?

Physically, he’s taller than an omega usually is. He spent so much time doing sports before he presented, and then after to keep up the image. Plus, let's be honest, he's absolutely keeping himself in shape and strong enough to defend/protect his little chosen pack. No matter how he or other people might feel about it, nothing is as important as keeping everyone safe, even after the UD is taken care of.

He and Eddie have been getting close, though. Eddie made enough anti-secondary-gender-roles speeches in school that Steve's pretty sure he won't mind that Steve is more invested in keeping them all safe than playing the part of “good little omega.” He was certainly impressed when Steve had to bite a bat in the Upside Down, and that's not very Omegan. The problem is, Eddie is such a perfect Alpha. Robin always makes a face when he says it, but Steve can feel it in his soul. Eddie is loud, exuberant, fiercely loyal, and protective of anyone who might need it, particularly when he cares about them. He's good with his hands, between his guitars and tinkering with his van when it has a new issue every month. He bickers with Wayne constantly over bills, trying to get his uncle to let him help more, leaving stray bills in Wayne's pockets when he loses the argument.

If Eddie can be such a good Alpha, Steve can try and be a better Omega, just a little. He does tone his more Alpha-like tendencies down a little, just to be safe- doesn't bring up playing sports/working out as much when Eddie's around, asks Eddie to help move things instead of just doing it himself, lets other people grab stuff from high shelves rather than volunteering himself. It seems to be going well, all things considered. He and A!Robin (who knows about the Omega-image issues, but not that he's been playing a bit more of the helpless Omega for Eddie, because she absolutely wouldn't approve) are sure Eddie's going to ask him to start courting any day now, really!!

To hopefully kick-start the process, Steve eagerly volunteers to help Wayne with some manual labor. Something with the siding of the trailer; it won’t be difficult, but it'll be a lot easier with two people. He'd have helped anyway, of course, but he's very aware that Eddie is devoted to his uncle and wants him taken care of. Surely, if there's anything that would outweigh any distaste from the non-Omega-like behavior, it's helping Wayne. The day of, though, he's on a ladder (Wayne is holding the ladder steady; Steve threw a hissy fit when he tried to go up himself), hammering in the last couple nails when Eddie gets home.

Normally, Eddie seems ecstatic to see Steve in any scenario- at one of their houses, after Hellfire to take the kids home, the few times they've passed each other in the grocery store- but when Steve looks over to say hi, he doesn't look… pleased. He actually looks kind of. Angry? Maybe? His eyes are blank, not filled with the warmth he's used to. His mouth is pressed together in a thin line, jaw clenched.

Steve has gotten pretty good at reading Eddie, knows his facial expressions like the back of his hand, but this is new. New and not happy. It makes him self-conscious, make him want to jump off the ladder and go beg forgiveness from his Alpha for whatever he did, but Steve pushes it down. He's got a job to finish, and if that face is directed at him for too long there's a good chance he's going to start whining- or worse, crying. Eddie gets back in his van immediately, though, driving off who knows where. Steve tells himself he was probably just having a bad day, and didn't want company. That's just a thing that happens. Nothing immediately to do with Steve, surely, and Wayne doesn't seem bothered so it's fine. Definitely.

A few days pass, and the party are all at Steve's house. The pups (who are nearly grown, now, but that doesn't stop them from being Steve's Pups, okay?) are mostly in the pool. The technically-adults are enjoying the sun and calling out warnings when the play-fighting gets a little too rough. Steve and Lucas are practicing basketball a few feet away, trying to nail a particular, super impressive move that even Steve can only do with about 40% accuracy. (I don't know basketball, I'm sure something like this has to exist though, right??? Indulge me lol) The two of them have been at it all summer, to better Lucas’ chance of getting varsity next school year.

Then Lucas nails it. Absolutely picture-perfect form, better than even Steve has ever done it. And they go NUTS. Everyone is looking over, confused but generally amused at their antics. Steve is so proud that he doesn't even think about it, just lifts Lucas up so he's sitting on one of Steve's shoulders, so Steve can hold him up with one arm and gesture wildly with the other while parading Lucas around, explaining exactly why this is so impressive to the non-athletes.

Except. Then he happens to look over at Eddie. And it's the face from the other day. Closer now, he can see that Eddie's knuckles are white where they're clenched around his beer bottle. Steve still can't get a read on it, and Eddie hasn't been in the pool yet so the scent blocker is keeping Steve from being able to tell what's the matter. Again, Steve's first instinct is to figure out what he did, how he can be better. But this is Eddie. He's probably just bitter about a sports thing interrupting whatever nerd conversation he was probably having, and he'll get over it quickly. Besides, Lucas deserves his moment.

Eddie is fine the rest of the night, and it doesn't come up, so Steve manages to mostly forget about it. But a week or two later, Steve is dropping Max off at home after physical therapy, and she's clearly too tired and exhausted for the stairs but she'll never admit it. Steve moves slowly, telegraphing his intentions as obviously as he can to give her an out, but she doesn't take it. So he picks her up, gently as possible, and carries her up the steps, grabbing her crutches as well.

He doesn't push it, even if his Omega would be thrilled to bring her in and make sure she gets settled and drinks some water, because it'd make her uncomfortable and this is already a lot. They don't talk about it, they just say their goodbyes and Steve goes to drive home. He glances over at the Munson's trailer, purely out of habit, and in the window is Eddie. With the same facial expression as before. He turns away from the window before Steve can react, and the curtain is pulled.

Steve has the whole way home to question this, and the only similarity between the two events that could have caused that face is… Steve being too Alpha-like. The manual labor, carrying the pups around. He's too strong, too big. He's not a good Omega, and his Alph- Eddie, who isn't his Alpha yet and maybe now never will be- Eddie doesn't like it. He drops. Hard. He's not sure how he makes it back to his house, or inside. The next thing he knows, he's sitting next to the phone, Robin's voice coming distant but frantic from where it's dangling by the cord next to him.

Then she's there, in front of him. Worried, clearly, but Steve can't bring himself to do anything about it. He just stares. Time passes, clearly, because at some point he finds himself in his own bed, nest haphazarly built up around him where someone presumably tried to make it bigger without disturbing anything, staring blankly at the ceiling with Robin pressed against him.

His face is wet.

His eyes hurt.

Oh. He's been crying.

He remembers why.

His breath catches, and it's enough to get Robin's attention. She scrambles up, holding his face while she takes exaggerated breaths. He matches her breathing until he's sure they're past the risk of hyperventilating. He tells her everything- not just the times Eddie has seemed upset, but every time he's tried to be better, to be less, every time he's questioned if it would ever be enough. She clearly wants to comment, but she lets him get it all out first. When it's clear he's done, she bundles him in her arms. Calls him a dingus, so he'll crack a smile. They slowly transfer back down the stairs, curling up in a mass of limbs in front of the tv to watch whatever they can find without getting up.

Steve drives her home around midnight, knowing she has work tomorrow and he's got the day off. He swears he's fine, that he'll call if something changes. He waves her off, drives away, and heads in the opposite direction of home. He's okay for now, but if he goes home, he'll think about how empty it is, how he may never have an Alpha to help him fill the space and the quiet, and he won't be okay for long.

He ends up at the quarry. Still quiet, and he's still alone, but at least it's intentional here. He's not exactly watching the clock, but he's only idly thrown a handful of rocks down into the water when he hears a noise he could pick out anywhere. Eddie's van is pulling up, faster even than the ridiculous speeds he usually does. The gravel flies up as he slams on breaks, and the headlights are still fading out when Eddie throws himself out the door.

He hurries towards Steve, and when he's close enough, he drops to his knees. Steve tries to ask, tries to pull him up because that can't be good for Eddie's knees, especially when he's clearly in his pajamas and some untied shoes but Eddie grabs his hand and holds it in both of his own. Trips over his words as he tries to explain, rambles that Robin had called him after she got home, that Eddie had immediately run out the door, went to the house first and then drove around to find Steve.

Steve can feel the shame heating his cheeks, prickling in his gut. He's already mentally cursing Robin's overprotective nature. Of course she'd immediately tried to defend him. She'd probably told Eddie off, something embarrassing about leading him on or believing too much in gender roles despite his own nonconformity or whatever else. Steve tries to pull his hand away, but Eddie's got a firm grip and pleading eyes, and Steve's Omega is too desperate for some approval after his drop earlier to try too hard.

Eddie looks like he's tearing up, and Steve is too caught off guard by this whole thing to hold back the whine it pulls out of him. Even if he's hurt, seeing Eddie upset almost hurts his Omega more than anything else. Eddie's eyes go wide, and he surges to his feet, pressing Steve's hand to his chest and letting a reassuring rumble answer. Steve hates himself a little bit for how much it does calm him down.

Eddie rushes to explain. He's in love with Steve. He thinks Steve's easily the best Omega he's ever met, loves how much he cares for the people around him and protects their pups (Steve tries valiantly to ignore how his heart skips a beat at it being THEIR pups. He fails). The face Steve has been seeing has been Eddie straining to keep his Alpha from begging to bond with Steve on sight. Eddie wanted to court him, wanted to take it slow and romance him and do things properly because Steve deserves it, not ask Steve to have his babies in front of all their friends.

He's been waiting to ask, has been making Steve his own battle jacket since he'd liked Eddie's in the Upside Down as a first courting gift. Apparently, tracking down patches for artists Steve likes is a lot harder than finding patches for Eddie's favorites, and hand-sewing them all on has taken even longer. It's everything Steve could have ever hoped to want and so much more, and Eddie's not wearing any scent blockers, so underneath the heady smell of leather and comfort and Eddie, Steve can tell he's being honest.

The misunderstandings are forgiven. They start courting immediately, and Eddie gives him his own vest to wear as an IOU until Steve's is done. Robin is very mildly scolded for spilling Steve's business, which is cancelled out by the grin on Steve's face as he does it and the hug she tackles him in immediately after says she doesn't regret a thing. It's okay, though. Neither does Steve.

-irrelevantbutembarrassing

chomping on insecure omega Steve because he’s so biteable💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #anon asks

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asterafroditis · 21 hours ago

Text

𐔌 . ⋮ not enough for you .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Idia Shroud x gn! reader

𓏵 857 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd person POV, no pronouns used, angst, hurt/comfort

feel free to like, reblog, or leave a comment!

Idia didn’t feel like he was worth your time—your love, your affection—any of it. He was just some pathetic, introverted otaku, a guy who barely scraped by in real-life interactions and spent more time talking to NPCs than actual people. Why would someone like you, someone with so much potential, choose to get close to someone like him?

It ate at him, this gnawing doubt. He could brush it off with self-deprecating humor in the moment, but when he was alone with his thoughts, the weight of it settled in his chest like a heavy stone. Maybe it was shame, or maybe it was fear— fear of admitting that you were the only thing, besides Ortho, keeping him tethered to the outside world. The only reason he’d even consider speaking to others beyond his hyperfixations on games, anime, and the endless sea of glowing screens.

And yet, here you were. You had so many other options, so many other things you could be doing with your time. But instead, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, surrounded by controllers and snack wrappers, laughing softly as you beat him for the third time in a row.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why you stayed.

“You okay?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. You paused the game, tilting your head to look at him, concern flickering across your face. “You’ve been kind of quiet. Did I go too hard on you this time?”

He shook his head quickly, pulling up his hood like it could somehow hide the flush creeping up his neck. “N-No, it’s not that,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then what’s wrong?” you pressed gently, setting the controller aside. You scooted closer to him, your expression softening in a way that made his chest ache.

Idia hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. But the words slipped out anyway, quiet and trembling. “I just… I don’t get why you’re here. With me. I mean, you could be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing something actually… I dunno, meaningful.”

Your heart sank at his words. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee, grounding him before he could spiral further. “Idia, why would you think this isn’t meaningful?”

He let out a bitter laugh, avoiding your gaze. “Because it’s not. Look at me! I’m R-rank material at best, and you… you’re SSR. Top-tier. S-tier, even. You could speedrun life and still 100% it without breaking a sweat, and I’m just here struggling through the tutorial. Why would you waste your time on a noob like me?”

You blinked at his outburst, startled by how much he seemed to believe his own words. He laughed again, bitter and self-deprecating, pulling his hood further over his face like he wanted to disappear. “I mean, seriously. You could be out there living your best life, but instead, you’re in a shut-in’s room, playing games with someone who can’t even grind for basic social skills. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not—” He stopped himself, biting his lip. “I’m not enough for you.”

His voice cracked on the last part, and it broke your heart. You squeezed his knee gently, leaning in closer. “Idia,” you said softly, “you’re not a noob, and you’re definitely not R-rank. You’re so much more than that.”

He didn’t respond, his shoulders hunching as he tried to make himself smaller, but you weren’t about to let him retreat into his shell. “I’m here because I want to be here. I could be anywhere else, sure, but none of those places would make me as happy as this. As you do.”

His eyes widened slightly, finally flickering up to meet yours. You smiled, brushing a strand of blue flame-like hair out of his face. “I don’t care if you think you’re ‘just some otaku.’ You’re thoughtful, smart, and funny— yeah, you are,” you added quickly when he opened his mouth to argue. “You make me laugh. You make me feel safe. And honestly, I love spending time with you, whether it’s gaming until dawn or just sitting here, talking.”

Idia’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He looked stunned, like he didn’t quite believe you but wanted to so badly.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Idia,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. That’s enough for me. You’re enough for me.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint hum of his computer monitors. Then, Idia let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening as he quickly wiped at them with his sleeve. “…You’re like, ridiculously OP, you know that?” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

You grinned, reaching for the controller again. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check when you’re feeling down, right? Now, come on, rematch. I’m not going easy on you this time.”

For the first time that night, he smiled—a small, timid thing, but a smile nonetheless. “You’re on.”

#۶ৎ qka daydreams!#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x you #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x you #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x you #twst idia #twst idia x reader #idia x reader #idia x you #angst #hurt/comfort

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cutesyaddy · 2 days ago

Text

from foes to forever

Part Four

Min Ho x Reader

a/n: hope you like this chapter, don’t know exactly what i was going for but hey, i’ll figure it out 🤪.

summary(?): With walls slowly starting to crack, one thing becomes clear—neither (y/n) or Min Ho are quite as unaffected as they pretend to be.

————————————————————

The library door creaked when I pushed it open, cold air following me inside.

My bag was full of books, and there was a migraine pulsing on the right side of my head.

After yesterday's surprisingly productive session with Min Ho, I figured today would be an easy continuation.

That was before I spotted him on the far end of the room, sitting by the window with his laptop open and a scowl carved into his face.

great. He’s already in a mood.

I walked over to the table, and as soon as I sat down, his eyes flicked up to meet mine.

“you’re late,” he said flatly, his fingers now drumming on the table.

“By, like, what? five minutes?” I muttered, unzipping my bag. “Don’t get your panties in a twist; I’m here now.”

Min Ho leant back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Five minutes we could’ve used. I don’t have all day, you know.”

I paused, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? big plans? Let me guess, crushing someone’s hopes and dreams before dinner?”

He snorted, but there wasn’t much humour in it. “Something like that.”

The biting retort I’d prepared fizzled out as I caught the faint tension in his voice.

Something was off. his usual smirk wasn’t as sharp, and his eyes seemed…. distracted.

“Are you okay?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

his face snapped to mine, confused, before narrowing. “What are you, my therapist? Let’s just focus on the project.”

I hesitated, then shrugged it off. “fine. Whatever you say, partner.

I pulled out my notebook and flipped to the page of notes I’d taken the night before. “So, I looked into that study you mentioned. the one about conflict communication? Turns out it’s actually useful. Who knew you had decent ideas?”

“Glad you’re finally catching on,” he muttered, but his voice lacked his usual sting.

I frowned, watching as he scribbled something in his notebook with a little too much force. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t just about me being five minutes late.

and then, as if to prove my point, he abruptly shut his notebook and stood up.

“Uh, hey,” I said, startled. “Where are you going?” “coffee,” he said shortly, already walking towards the door.

“Do you want one or not?” I blinked, confused by the sudden shift. “Uh… sure?”

‘coffee? Since when does Min Ho do anything remotely thoughtful?’ I didn’t know whether to be suspicious or impressed.

Without another word, he disappeared through the doors, leaving me alone at the table, wondering what had just happened.

—————————

Min Ho returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups of coffee in hand.

He slid one across the table, his fingers lingering just slightly on the edge before pulling back. The usual cocky energy was still there, but muted—like he was somewhere else entirely.

“Thanks,” I said, watching him carefully as I wrapped my hands around the warm cup.

He didn’t respond, just sipped his coffee while staring out the window. The sunlight caught on his jawline, making the tension in his posture more obvious.

“So... you going to tell me what’s eating you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual but unable to mask the curiosity in my voice.

He glanced at me, his dark eyes sharp. “Why do you care?”

I shrugged, pretending his gaze wasn’t making my pulse flutter.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re acting weird, and I don’t want it to mess up our project.”

“Of course. It’s about the project,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I frowned, annoyed that he could still get under my skin so easily.

“What else would it be about?”

He leant forward then, the smirk fading into something softer��something that made my breath hitch. “You tell me.”

The air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. I swallowed hard, gripping my coffee cup like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

“Look,” I said, my voice quieter now, “if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”

Min Ho’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, I thought he might actually open up. But instead, he gave a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he said, tilting his head as if studying me. “Most people don’t bother trying to figure me out.”

“Maybe that’s because you make it so hard,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, to my surprise, he reached out and lightly tapped the side of my coffee cup with his finger.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “for someone who’s always ready to argue with me, you’re not half bad to be around.”

My heart stumbled over itself, but I forced a smirk. “Is that your way of saying you’re tolerable too?”

He shrugged, his lips quirking up again, but his gaze didn’t break from mine. It was unnerving—and disarming.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile.

But there was something different about the way he was looking at me now—something warmer, more genuine. My heart skipped a beat, and for once, I didn’t have a sarcastic remark ready.

“Noted,” I said finally, my voice a little breathless.

The moment lingered, the quiet hum of the library around us fading into the background. It wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at me, like he was seeing me in a way he hadn’t before.

“Let’s get back to work,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell.

I nodded, fumbling to open my notebook as my cheeks warmed.

But as we worked, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him for the duration of our time together.

—————————

The sun was starting to set by the time I stepped out of the library, my bag slung over my shoulder and my head spinning from all the work we’d done. Min Ho trailed behind me, surprisingly quiet as we walked back across campus.

“So,” I ventured, breaking the silence. “I guess that wasn’t the worst study session I’ve ever had.”

“High praise,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Try not to let the compliment go to my head.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting the strap of my bag. “I’m just saying—at least we didn’t kill each other.”

We crossed the courtyard, where strings of fairy lights lit up the pathways, casting a soft glow over the campus.

The lights softened the edges of everything, giving the world an almost dreamlike quality.

Or maybe that was just him—this weird, confusing mix of cocky and vulnerable that I was still trying to figure out.

The quiet hum of conversations and laughter filled the air, students milling about in small groups.

It was one of those rare moments when the chaos of the day faded into something calm.

Min Ho shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, looking away briefly before speaking. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Why? Afraid I’ll trip and break something?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But mostly because I don’t trust you not to get lost.”

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said again, but there was something softer in his voice this time.

We reached my building sooner than I expected. I stopped at the entrance, turning to face him.

“Well,” I said, awkwardly shifting my weight. “Thanks for... I guess, whatever this was.”

Min Ho leant against the brick wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll probably be cursing my name halfway through this project.”

“Probably,” I agreed, trying to hide the small smile tugging at my lips.

For a moment, we just stood there, the quiet between us heavier than it had been all evening.

He didn’t move right away, and for a second, I thought he might say something else.

Instead, his gaze dipped to mine, steady and unreadable, before the smirk returned.

“Don’t stay up too late, klutz,” he said, pushing off the wall.

“I won’t if you don’t give me a reason to,” I shot back.

As he walked away, the fairy lights caught the faintest trace of a smile still lingering on his face.

For someone I swore I couldn’t stand, Min Ho was starting to make it harder and harder to look away.

——————

chat i highkey didn’t like this one, i made it late last night and im re-reading it like?? why was he angus one moment and all fine the next? whatever 🙈 i hoped you like it, next chapter coming soon.

also i had someone request to be put on a taglist but it wouldn’t let me tag you ☹️☹️😞😞💔💔💔😭😭😢🙍‍♀️🤕

GUYS HELP

#min ho story #min ho moon #min ho xo kitty #min ho fanfic #minho x reader #minho #min ho x reader #min ho #fanfic #story #enimes to lovers #tatbilb #xo kitty

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gilverrwrites · 2 days ago

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💦 + ⛓️+ 🔪 + 🎉 for AK!Jason & Deathstroke with Batgirl!Reader with breastmilk

For reference/to make it easier to request in future, I call that reader character [BatBrat!Reader.]

Warning: NON CON. Amongst other things (see tags)

💦 cum headcanon

Jason is at the top of whatever sordid hierarchy this arrangement is. He's running the operation, he signs the metaphorical cheques that keep Slade loyal. He owns the safehouse you're chained up in.

Slade considers his involvement to be purely a benefit of the job, you are to him what pizza parties are to a retail worker. Though Jay thinks of him more like a scavenger, feeding off his scraps.

Either way, as top dog, Jay has asserted very clearly that he is the only one allowed to cum inside your needy pussy. Of course, you can't stop him from cumming anywhere he wants, but he especially likes to fuck you raw and bark into your ear about breeding you. Even if you escape, how are you going to resume your vigilante duties when you're round and heavy, knocked up with The Arkham Knight’s baby, huh?

Slade knows where his bread is buttered, he isn't going to kick up a fuss about where he's permitted to dump his spunk, even if he did care. Slade prefers to see some more active participation anyway. He likes making you work for it. So he’ll fuck whatever hole takes his fancy until he's right on the edge, then pull and release into his hand, or on the floor, basically anywhere so he can bully you into cleaning it up with your mouth.

⛓️ kinky headcanon

AK and Deathstroke are certainly beyond rough with you. They're twisted, and perverse; keeping you like a pet, using your body like a toy, drinking your milk, injecting you with pheromones that make you crave their abuse.

But this isn't good, clean, kinky fun. This isn’t even remotely how kink is supposed to work. There's no safe word. Their end goal here isn't to convert you, or to pleasure you.

This is torture, meant to incapacitate and belittle you. You're a pawn, helping them one-up Batman, another broken chesspiece Jason can dangle in his former mentor's face to remind him what a fuck-up he is, that he’s not a hero, that Jay can take anything and everything from him.

Sure, Jay prefers when you're into it, but he likes it just as much when you're screaming, crying, and trying to fight them off.

🔪 dangerous headcanon

They like for you to think that you're in danger. You're by no means completely complacent, but when you've been roughed up and beat down, there's a lot less bite in you.

It's funny;

That Slade likes to pretend to be the good guy, tapping into his warped ‘fatherly’ mindset, picking you up and dusting you off when you need it, scolding Jason when he's seemingly being a little too careless with you. When in fact, he could and would easily do irreparable damage to, or even kill you for the right price.

And that Jason, whose bark is just as bad as his bite, who gets in your face, to spit the vilest and most vicious threats, who keeps you chained up, and handles you like you're a ragdoll; would never let anything actually dangerous happen to you. He'd never admit it, not even to himself. He took you because you were a problem, because you needed to be brought down and reminded that you're not better than him. But he might actually snap (even more) if anything truly bad happened, especially under his watch.

🎉 celebration sex headcanon

You don't really get to participate in celebration sex.

No, that's not quite true.

You're very much involved in celebration sex, only you're not celebrating.

Because when AK and Slade celebrate their wins: they’re celebrate taking down your friends, assuming control of the city, and freeing the supervillains that will destroy it. They celebrate Bruce’s downfall. Every time they celebrate, that little glimmer of hope that you might be saved dimmers just a little bit more.

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impish-baby · 2 hours ago

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re: both arms cradle you now

how would the family get to coddling and taking care of reader :0?

I assume via reader being forced to be around them and breaking down and regressing, but I'm very curious to hear what you have in mind :3

-🐇

You have the right idea!! Reader essentially can't handle all the stress and breaks down which ends up devolving into more of a tantrum when they regress since they don't know what to do with all the big emotions they're feeling

I won't put everyone's reaction here since I'll save those for the actual fic, but here's some miscellaneous members of the family taking care of reader :>

Aunts Tammie and Lisa (Avery's moms)

"Here, how abouts a slice of pie, sugar?" The older women is already cutting it up, getting a bite ready on an airplane shaped spoon. "Your memaw made it, so you know it'll be good!" She hums, holding the spoon up before doing a winding motion to your mouth. "Vroooom...yummy, huh?" Tammie coos as you eat, getting another bite before you've even finished the first.

"You'll give them a stomach ache." Lisa remarks dryly for across the room, messing around with a stack of papers. "All that sugar at once isn't good."

"Oh, hush up.." Tammie scoffs, rolling her eyes. "What's the best thing when you're sad? Sweets! Leave the little darling alone, if their tummy hurts later, we'll deal with it."

"Uh huh," your other aunt pushes her glasses up to the top of her head as she walks over to the table, setting a few pieces of paper gently down next to you. They're Christmas activies, from coloring pages to connect the dots. "How about we work on these a little, hun? It's not too late to write a letter to Santa either, maybe he can squeeze in a few extra presents by tomorrow."

Oliver (reader's younger half-brother)

You weren't expecting anyone to come find you, at least not for a while, but a little head pokes through the doorway followed by an excited gasp.

"Hi!" The kid practically dives when he runs over to kneel in front of your curled up form, a bear stuffie clutched in one hand. "Momma said to leave you alone cause you're really upset, but.. but I wanted to try to help a little!"

His smile doesn't falter as you sniffle, holding the plush out to you expectantly. "They're my favorite, but you can hold them! Promise they'll make you feel better."

When you gingerly take the item from him, he looks like you just gave him the world. "Yeah, good job!" Oliver can't seem to sit still, hopping back up onto his feet immediately. "Do you want to watch a movie? You get to pick cause you're crying!"

#platonic yandere #famial yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere age regression #forced age regression #you've got mail! 📨#🐇 anon #oc: both arms cradle you now 🌥

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darksigns-exe · 5 hours ago

Text

handmade my feelings for you - nick folio x noah sebastian

warnings: swearing, handjobs (m receiving)

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | taglist sign-up

Something about Nick makes him feel a little insane tonight. He’s always had a little bit of a crush on him, but it’s especially bad at the moment. Noah doesn’t quite understand why, either.

Maybe it’s because recently, Folios started getting a little bit touchier with him. He hasn’t missed the little brushes against his waist when Nick passes by him. The way he’s standing a little bit closer to him, or how he’ll sit so close next to him that their thighs touch. And then there’s the way he catches him staring sometimes.

He tried to brush it off for a while, tried to convince himself that he was just imagining it. And then it had happened.

He hadn’t meant to.

He’d simply gone to check where Folio was after their show and poked his head into the shower room. Hearing the soft sighs that sounded unmistakable like him had flipped a switch in his brain.

He absolutely has to know what kind of pretty sounds he can pull from him.

Noah had managed to swap rooms often enough to end up sharing with Folio. He’ll figure out a game plan when it comes to it.

“Do you want to shower first?” Noah asks.

“Yea — sure.” Folio barely looks at him, but he can tell that it’s nerves rather than actual avoidance.

Noah decides to bite the bullet then.

He slowly moves closer, effectively caging in Folio between his body and the bathroom door.

“Or — we could save a little water.”

Noah brushes a finger down the length of the other's arm, making him shiver.

Nicks gaze flits from where Noah is touching him back up to his face. Noah slowly drags his fingers up his arm and across his shoulder, until he can hook them under Nick’s chin to keep his focus on him.

“If you don’t want this, I can back off, and we’ll forget about this. But if you want me —“

“I - I want it. I just — I’ve never been with another guy.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. If you want it, we’ll just see what feels good.” He says softly, hoping that it’ll ease his nerves a little bit.

“That’s okay.”

“You wanna see where this goes?��

Folio gives him a nod then, breath caught in his throat.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Y-yes.” He sounds so awfully shy then and Noah can’t help but smile.

He moves his hand to the side of Nicks face and gently traces his thumb across his cheek. He leans in so slowly, giving him plenty of time to back out.

The first brush of his lips against Nicks fills him with static.

Nick lets out the softest little sigh when they finally meet. Noah moves at his pace, only deepening the kiss when Nick parts his lips for him. He brings his hand into Nicks hair, keeping him so very close.

And when they eventually part, they’re both breathless. Noah can’t stay away from him for long though, and he quickly dives back for another kiss.

“You wanna get that shower?” He asks, still so very close to him.

Noah lets his hand wander across the other's side, slowly working it under his shirt. His skin is so warm under Noah’s palm, and he can’t wait to feel all of him.

“Yes.” Nick chokes out, evidently a little overwhelmed by the whole thing.

“We can stop whenever you want. Your pace.”

“No I want this. I want you.”

Noah can’t stop the smile that forces itself onto his face.

“Good. Then let’s get to it.” He gives a squeeze to his side.

He helps Nick undress. Nick manages his shirt just fine, but his hands are too shaky to get the button of his jeans.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll take good care of you.”

He pops the button and slowly works the jeans down Nick’s thighs. Once they’re both stripped down to their underwear, Noah returns his hand to Nicks waist. He moves closer to him, pressing his body up against Nicks when he leans in for another kiss. Noah shifts his hips forwards so that he can grind them together. He backs Nick up against the sink.

Nicks trembling hand finds its way to Noah’s waist. Noah reaches for his free hand. He laces their fingers together, in hopes that it’ll calm his nerves a little bit.

“I’m gonna start the water okay?” He says eventually, barely moving away from Nick, “I’ll be right back with you.”

He quickly slips out of his underwear, before turning on the water. He waits for it to be at a comfortable temperature before he turns back to Nick.

The nervousness is obvious on his face now.

“Hey.” Noah comes to stand in front of him again, “It’s all good. If you just want to hop under the shower and skip all of this, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

“I just don’t know what I’m doing. What if I don’t like it? What if you don’t like me?”

Noah takes Nick’s hand back into his.

“If you realise that you don’t like it after all, that’s okay. Sometimes it sounds good in your head, but when you do it, it doesn’t feel like you expected. I won’t be upset. I can assure you though that I absolutely do like you. Have for a little while, too.”

He hadn’t planned to make this confession now, but Noah also understands that Nick needs to hear this. He knows how nerve-wracking this is. And if he can offer some calm, he’ll do it.

Nick gives a hesitant nod in return, “Okay.”

“You wanna keep going?”

“Yes.” his reply sounds a little more firm this time.

Noah pulls their joined hands up, allowing him to press a kiss to the back of Nick’s. He releases his hand and brings it to the waistband of his boxers.

“Gonna let me see you?” he asks, plucking at the elastic.

Nick slowly eases the garment down his waist.

Noah vividly remembers the first time he was in this position and how absolutely terrified he had been of it. He’s determined to make it at least a little less scary for Nick.

He lets his eyes wander across the newly bared skin.

“You really are pretty everywhere, huh? Can I touch you?”

As soon as Nick nods, he lets his hands wander across his chest and tummy, down to his waist.

“I’ve been wondering how it’d feel to touch you, you know? If you’re ticklish in this or that spot, what kind of sounds you’d make.”

When his hand rests at the dip of his waist, Noah slowly walks them backwards under the spray of the shower. Nick follows him so easily.

He gives Nick a moment to get used to the water, before he lets his hand wander again.

Noah leans down for another kiss. He just can’t get enough of how Nick melts against him. When he thinks that Nick is sufficiently distracted, he brings his hand lower still. At first, all he does is brush the backs of his fingers down his length. And when he doesn’t shrink away, Noah carefully wraps his hand around him.

Nick gasps against his lips, and Noah can’t stop himself from smiling.

He adjusts his grasp a little before he gives a first tentative stroke. Noah quickly finds a rhythm that makes Nick’s breath hitch.

“That’s it. Just let yourself feel good.” Noah says softly, not wanting to jostle him too much, “Don’t be shy, let me hear you.”

He shifts his focus to the head of his cock, drawing his thumb over it in slow, steady circles.

Nick lets out a stuttered gasp, and Noah’s sure that he’s never heard a prettier sound.

As much as he wants this to be just about Nick, his own need is starting to become overwhelming. Noah moves closer, allowing him to take his own cock into his hand too.

He sighs when they make contact.

Nick lets his head drop against his shoulder, letting out a breathless moan that Noah almost mistakes for a whine.

“I’m not gonna last.” Nick says between the soft sighs that fall from his lips.

He almost sounds upset about it, and Noah can’t help but feel a little endeared by it. Noah doubles his efforts, now desperate to see him fall apart at his hand.

“Gonna cum for me?” he asks, trying his best to hide the desperation in his voice, “I’m so close too. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Just a moment later, he feels Nick spill over his hand. The little whines and gasps he lets out, shove Noah over the edge, too. He buries his face in the side of Nick’s neck as he tries to keep the rhythm of his hand steady to work them both through their climaxes.

Eventually, his hand slows until he lets go of them entirely. Noah stays where he is, though, keeps his lips pressed up against the other's neck. Once he feels as if his breathing has regulated again, Noah pulls away from him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, brushing some of the stray pieces of hair that cling to Nick’s forehead back, “Feeling okay?”

Nick draws in a deep breath, “It’s never felt like that before.”

“Is that a good thing?” Noah struggles to hide the amusement in his voice.

“So good. I don’t know what I was so scared of.”

“It’s new. You’re allowed to be scared of new things. How about we get cleaned up and finish this conversation afterwards? Don’t want the water to get cold on us.”

Nick keeps a very noticeable distance from him once they’re tucked into bed. It’s almost as if he’s scooted an extra inch over just in case. It does sting a little bit, but Noah understands the anxiety that likely bubbles under his skin.

“You don’t have to stay away like that.” Noah says eventually.

“I didn’t want to assume.”

Noah takes the initiative and crowds into his space, until their legs practically have to tangle together.

“Always assume that I want you close.” Noah brings his hand to Nick’s cheek, “I’ll always want you ask close as I can have you.”

He leans in to kiss him so tenderly, that it sends a shiver down his own spine.

Nick shifts closer against him, wrapping his arm around Noah’s body.

“I was so scared of feeling like this.” he says quietly, “I’ve never felt like this about another guy.”

“I know that’s scary. But we can take this entirely at your pace. Whatever you need.”

“Can you kiss me again?”

The question is so simple, but Noah can’t possibly say no to him.

With his face cradled in his hands, Noah pulls him into a gentle kiss.

They’re still all tangled up when Noah wakes in the morning. Nick is still wrapped around him with his face buried against his chest, and Noah really doesn’t want to move him. He’ll stay here today, his run can wait.

He’s been waiting for this moment for so long and right now, there’s no place he’d rather be.

He presses a kiss to the top of Nick’s head, before he lets his eyes fall shut again.

The day can wait.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers@cheyyyyr@mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland

#noah sebastian x nick folio #noah sebastian fanfic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio x noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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ominous-faechild · 22 hours ago

Text

⚜ INCORRECT QUOTES ⚜

Bringing back an old tag game!!!

Rule: use this generator to create “incorrect quotes” for your wip

(I feel legally obligated to post something actually about Faerie's Dawn today and I want to meme these idiots lmao)

Cloud: Tell me a little about yourself. Nova: I'd rather not, I really like this group.

Nova: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy, listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five pm, okay? I don't KNOW!

Nova: I will be using so much pink you’ll be seeing green by the end from sensory deprivation.

Sky: You're violent. Nova: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Nova: Wanna get out of here and grab a bite to eat? Sky: I don’t usually eat with losers. Nova: Neither do I but I asked you, didn’t I?

Nova: Branch, you’re in charge! Sky: Branch, can we start a fire?

[while waiting outside the principal’s office] Nova: What are you in for? Cloud: Oh, they just want to know if it’s cool if I miss my classes tomorrow to run sound and lights for a presentation in the auditorium. What about you? Nova: I stabbed a kid with a screwdriver. Cloud: Cloud: Cloud: We live very different lives. Nova: Yes, we do.

Branch: Be careful about succumbing to these sorts of destructive... urges. Addiction can be a powerful thing. Nova: So am I. Bow down before your new supreme overlord, bitches.

Nova: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times. Branch: I hope you understand how food poisoning works. Nova: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I've never met a burger I couldn’t eat.

Nova: Branch's amazing at concentrating. Once he starts reading, the only way he’ll notice you is if you take his book away. Not even if you hit him or shake him! Sky: That was him ignoring you.

Sky, at Nova's funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. [leaves] Sky, leaning over Nova's coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Nova, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

Sky: I hope you have an explanation for this. Cloud: We have three, actually! Nova: Pick your favorite.

Cloud: I bet you’re wondering why I gathered you here today. It’s because we need to have a discussion about how some people in this room aren’t getting along with other people in this room. Sky: Why did you say that so vaguely? Nova and I are literally the only people you called in here.

Sky: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!

Sky: [trying to buy a Father's Day card at Hallmark] Sky: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?" Associate: Well, I- Sky: How about "You banged my mom?" Associate: No... Sky: You know what, I'll just get a blank one. Sky: [writes] You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

Cloud: You gave me up, you let me down, you turned around, and deserted me. Sky: But did I make you cry? Cloud: [cries on the spot] Sky: ... shit.

Sky: We wouldn’t last two minutes without Nova. Sky: Sky: Don’t tell them I said that.

Cloud: What language do they speak at the center of the earth? Cloud: Core-ean! Sky: The center of the earth is around 5430 degrees Celsius! Nobody is going to live there, so they don’t need a language! Cloud: Core-ean.

Cloud: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Sky: [sipping his drink after accidentally adding salt] I just like the way it tastes.

Branch: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay, right?" and watch the look of terror on their face. Sky: Sky: I like you.

Shade: Can you recommend a book that'll make me cry? Sky: General Mathematics 8th Grade Edition.

Shade: We have a problem. Branch: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Shade: What the fuck. Shade: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship. Shade: Who the hell watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy!

Shade: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel. Cloud: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel! Branch: A realist sees a freight train. Sky: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

Achilles: We’ll find another route, it’s not safe for amateur adventurers. Nova: That sounds like a challenge. Achilles: I have to stress, that is not a challenge. Nova: ... Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well, challenge accepted! Achilles: There is no challenge!

Achilles: Okay, how do I look? Be honest. Cloud: There’s no critic more honest than Sky! Sky: Bad.

Achilles: We all have our demons. Achilles, grabbing Shade: This one’s mine.

Eve: Asa, don’t go picking a fight with Ailwyn. Don’t forget, they’re powerful, they could make life difficult for you. Asa: Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life.

Asa: Quitting! It's like trying, but easier!

Asa: If I fall down these stairs, I'm just going to lay down and accept my fate.

Asa: [walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone] Eve: Hey, Asa, how was your day? Asa: [picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Nova] Hell. Eve, watching this unfold: (whispers) Who hurt you?

Eve: What's worse than a heartbreak? Shade: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging. Branch: Waking up in the morning. Asa: Waking up.

Shade: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water?? Cloud: Y-you were putting it in cold water?? Sky: Shade. Answer the question, Shade. Shade: Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason. Shade: Plus you think I have the patience to boil water? Cloud: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes?? Sky: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? Cloud: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove? Sky: It takes less than a minute. Cloud: Is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun??? Sky: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove? Cloud: Like seven minutes?? Nova: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan! Sky: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? Nova? Your stove is enchanted! Shade: Every single person here is a fucking lunatic. Branch: Do none of you own a fucking kettle?!

[during a group project] Branch: [does 99% of the work] Cloud: [has no idea what’s going on] Nova: [says they’re gonna help but does not] Sky: [disappears at the very beginning and doesn’t show up again until the very end]

Just a silly thing I felt like I had to make lol.

Ik you guys don't know half of these characters lol. But it's fun foreshadowing for later... and still funny 😉

(Idk should I @ the whole Faerie's Dawn list? I'mma just @ my "everything" taglist and anyone I know who's really into FD lol)

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter @teamarine777 @caffeinated-starsailor @oliolioxenfreewrites

@corinneglass

#tag games #tag game #tumblr tag game #writeblr tag games #incorrect quotes #faerie's dawn #non canon #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers #writblr

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