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bensolosbluesaber · 1 year

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Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger. For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

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WIBTA for completely ignoring a very long and thought-out apology message?

TL;DR: Abusive ex sent me apology after two years of silence and I’m not sure I want to acknowledge it.

So I was in a very abusive relationship with my ex for around a year. I’m going to try not to go into too much detail, but I tend to ramble and this is a hard topic for me so I’m sorry in advance if this ends up super long.

When we started dating, it was great for the first six months or so. I noticed certain things that made me question if she could have BPD (intense jealousy, sudden mood switches, impulsivity, self-destructive behaviour) and encouraged her to speak to her therapist about it. She eventually did and was diagnosed with BPD, but she wasn’t able to get on medication for another few months. After that, everything seemed to just… completely spiral. She started to control who I could speak to (I was only allowed to be with friends for an hour, and if I was even a few minutes late she’d be blowing up my phone accusing me of cheating etc. and ignoring me for days), she wanted me to cut off every friend who didn’t like her or warned me about the relationship and would accuse me of disrespecting boundaries if I objected, she would shout at me 24/7 (e.g. we’d be talking fine, she’d tell me she had a headache, I’d say I was sorry, and she’d suddenly be yelling that she didn’t need my pity and that I was patronising her), she constantly tracked where I was and who I was with, she lied to me constantly about things both major and minor, and by the end of it she was physically aggressive. This eventually culminated in her cheating on me, me giving her another chance (zoinks), and her cheating on me again less than a month later with a man she knew had SA’d me in the past. After that I just couldn’t take it anymore and finally got the courage to leave.

This unfortunately made everything worse. She split on me - basically a BPD thing where your opinion on someone goes from love to hate or vice versa in an instant - and she made it her mission to make my life hell. For almost a year and a half after our breakup, she was sending things to my house, to my family’s houses, she was stalking my social medias and sending me death threats from burner accounts, all of her own social medias became solely dedicated to talking about me, and then the worst part - she knew I wanted to go to college to become a primary (elementary) school teacher, and so she called up the college I was going to attend and told them I was a pedophile. She went all out with this accusation and was posting it all over Twitter, messaging my friends, getting her friends to post it - it was crazy. Thankfully it did not actually affect my education because I explained what was going on and I had evidence that things she was saying happened were false, but it was a super terrifying and stressful time.

While that was going on, she used the fact I was an SA victim against me - at one point she told me to “shut up and go get raped again”, and another Tweet she made accusing me of being a pedophile was followed up with “Shame you’ll never get that teaching job, I hear they’re not so kind to people like you in prison”.

Making everything more confusing is the fact that every few months it’s like she’d switch back - she’d send me an apology message, tell all her friends it was a lie, get back in contact with me and tell me she was on meds and going to therapy and everything was getting better, and then a few weeks later she’d be posting about how abusive I was again and blocking me everywhere. It felt like there was nothing I could do - if I ignored it, she’d step it up to get a reaction, and if I did acknowledge it, she’d step it up anyway because I was reacting.

Finally, FINALLY, I threatened to get a restraining order and everything stopped.

Almost two years pass and nothing. I’m now happily engaged to a wonderful girl who was my best friend throughout that whole relationship and knew exactly how affected I was by it. I’m going to therapy, was diagnosed with PTSD, and have been slowly moving on. I still have nightmares about her, and sometimes things will get me (e.g. a few months ago I saw someone who looked like her on TV unexpectedly and had a panic attack), but things are good. Much better. I was thinking of it all much less, I wasn’t dedicating energy to it, I wasn’t even angry or upset anymore, it was just a past lesson I’d learned and didn’t need to worry about anymore.

Then last week I wake up to a message. Again, it’s been two years.

Now, this message was LONG. It was from my ex, apologising for everything she’d done. It was a genuinely nice message and clearly had a lot of thought in it. She said she knew it was selfish to message me when I’d moved on but that she had things to say for her own peace of mind. She said she was happy to see I was engaged, that she’s done a lot of self-reflecting and healing. She said she tried to date again and ended up “karma’d “ - that the relationship was scarily similar to ours but with her in my shoes this time - and that it had made her realise just how disgusting her actions had been and how badly she’d fucked me up. She made it clear she wasn’t looking for forgiveness or to reconnect, just to apologise.

Part of me is mildly skeptical because of the fact she’d apologised multiple times before and it never stuck, but the two year gap and the way it’s phrased makes me believe this is truly genuine. She seems to have matured and changed as a person.

Thing is, I just… can’t bring myself to respond. Every time I go to do it, I remember things she said or did to me and just can’t. I feel like if I just responded and said no hard feelings and explicitly told her I have moved on and am doing better, I could give her the same closure that this apology might eventually give me. It would be closing this chapter for good for both of us and I could just never think about her again.

And yet I just. Haven’t. I’m scared to open the window of communication again in any way, I’m scared it’ll be taken back, I’m scared that this will take me back to square one because she’s put herself back in my life (even tangentially) and now I’m thinking about her again after so long of trying so hard to heal.

So WIBTA if I just… didn’t acknowledge it? If I let her essentially wonder forever it it was ever seen or read because I just don’t know what to do about it, even if I’m potentially keeping closure from her for my own comfort?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

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Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/

D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:

Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.

Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.

Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.

So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.

Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.

But why target a minor gaming company?

No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.

The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.

You could always be wrong.

And that KILLS.

Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!

Red Robin does not respond.

And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.

Where the fuck is h-*DING!*

Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.

Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.

So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.

Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.

Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?

Wrong.

The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.

Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.

Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?

He has no idea what he's doing.

He doesn't PLAY these type of games.

He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?

Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!

Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".

No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?

He can fix that too.

They have time.

Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)

Tim wakes up in the starting room.

This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.

Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!

He keeps going.

Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...

So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.

Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.

Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.

The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.

Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.

He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.

Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.

All while they watch.

Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.

They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".

Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?

-🐼🐼🐼

tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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dystopicjumpsuit · 4 months

Note

DJ!

For your ficlets, could I request

'Mumbling unintelligibly into the embrace'

With Scorch from Delta Squad?

He's a soft boi really, and if anything happens to him in the finale, I will be cry 😭😭

Love you! ❤️💜💗♥️💚💓💖💙😍

A/N: Hi @arcsimper5! I’m so relieved to know that the person claiming to be Scorch in TBB was in fact an identity thief, and that the real Scorch is safe and happy and hanging out with Sev, whom he scooped up from Kashyyyk as soon as Scorch flipped the Empire the bird and dipped after Order 66. This ficlet takes place shortly before the brothers reunite. 💛💛💛

Pairing: Scorch x Reader (GN, has a pet vulptex named Lyca because I really want a pet vulptex and I would name her Lyca)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 485

Warnings and tags: nightmares; panic symptoms; angst; hurt comfort; cuddles; Scorch blew up canon with a thermal detonator and the galaxy was a better place for it

Summary: Scorch grapples with the aftermath of Kashyyyk.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Pillowtalk Poet by Pinrose (rumpled sheets, soft musk, quiet whispers)

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Scorch lurched forward, his eyes snapping open before he even realized he was awake. Sweat beaded on his skin as he sat up in bed, and he shoved the blankets away, suddenly overheated and overwhelmed with claustrophobia. He heard a faint tinkling sound followed by a small whimper as your pet vulptex nuzzled him gently, her cold nose bringing him back to his body.

“Hey, Lyca,” he gasped.

He gave her a reassuring pat, then scrubbed his hand over his head, blinking hard as he tried to get his bearings in the darkened bedroom. His thumb traced over the smooth scar where his inhibitor chip had been removed, a grim reminder of a terrifying reality.

The sheets rustled, and he knew he’d awakened you. Kriff.

“Scorch?” you murmured hoarsely, reaching for him. “Are you all right?”

Your hand rested on his shoulder, solid and comforting, and he reached for it with his own, holding onto you tightly, afraid that if he let go you might vanish into nothingness.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just a bad dream.”

You were quiet for a moment, then you sat up and scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him. “Kashyyyk?”

He nodded, burying his face into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he clung to you. He mumbled against your skin as you stroked your hand up the back of his neck to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Hm?” you asked as you pressed your lips against his head.

“I miss him so much,” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut tight to keep the stinging tears from falling.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know you do. We’ll find him, I swear to you. We’ll get him back.”

“I should have gone back,” he choked as his throat constricted with grief. “I should have—”

“Stop,” you said firmly. “What happened was not your fault.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t.” You tightened your arms around him, holding him close. “You can’t keep blaming yourself like this, or it’s going to eat you alive.”

“Then whose fault is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied. “All that matters is what we do now. You told me you think Sev is still alive, right?”

“I know he is,” he said. “I can feel it.”

“Then he needs you to be on top of your game.” You kissed the side of his head again, then whispered, “I am here for you. I will do whatever you need me to do. But I can’t do it alone. We’ll get through this together, and we will find him, I promise.”

Slowly, he nodded, then pulled away just enough to look into your eyes as they glittered subtly in the semi-darkness. He rested his forehead against yours as he sighed, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better,” you said quietly as your lips brushed against his in the lightest kiss imaginable. “You deserve everything I can give, and more.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts! Requests are open, but my writer's block is still plaguing me, so I might be a little slow in filling them, but I will fill them!

Want more Delta Squad? I have Sev fluff and spice!

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

#guess who managed to write today?#take that writer's block #scorch #rc 1262 #delta squad #scorch lives #star wars #republic commando #repcomm #dystopicjumpsuit writes #scorch deserves better #god damn it #yes i did choose a repcomm gif on purpose because the character in tbb is not scorch

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softlymaximoff · 1 year

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🩸 🌧️ can I request a drabble of WandaNat where Nat came home from a bad mission and Wanda ofc takes her of her baby? 🥺

Send emojis <3

Moya lyubov, your heart must hurt

18+ ONLY! MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

Summary: no matter how many missions Natasha goes on, Wanda is always there to help mend the shatter in her heart.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: injuries/blood/bruises, mental and physical exhaustion, mentions of mission complications, soft, comfort, fluff.

Word Count: 740

The quinjet shook lightly as the team landed onto the small airstrip accompanying the compound grounds. Fury, Natasha, Tony and Clint had all just come back from a month and a half long mission. The last few days were pure hell, each member had seen enough to last them years worth of therapy sessions and it was safe to say no one was going on any other missions soon.

A quiet rumble of thunder snapped Natasha out of her daydream and she winced when a flash of lightning followed not too far behind. She was never one for storms but usually stuck it out for Wanda who was outright terrified of them. Today however, with the frame of mind she was is she wanted nothing more than to fall in a heaped pile of blankets with her girlfriend.

As the jet finally stopped its engines, everyone limped out, the widow being victim of most injuries. Her arms and torso were severely bruised as was her left collarbone, she had a slightly open wound on her lip and her nose was still bleeding. Another round of lightning and thunder made her whimper and rush inside the compound as best as she could, a quiet hiss escaping as she unintentionally put pressure on her ribs while breathing.

“Nat you need to go to med bay, Laura and Wanda would kill me if they knew I’d let you finish the mission without getting checked” Clint raised an eyebrow when he got no response from her. “C’mon I’m taking you” he sighed sympathetically as he ushered her into the first med bay he could find. “No needles” she whispered with such fear he thought he might actually consider taking her off missions for a while.

“Alright no needles but we need to bandage you up and fix you. Im gonna go get Wanda okay? I promise I’ll be really quick” he assures as best he could while Natasha was practically shaking in fear on the table. She barely had the time to spiral into her own thoughts when a flurry of auburn hair ran in. “Oh malysh, you’re shaking moya lyubov come here” Wanda cooed over her injured girlfriend.

“It hurts Wans, my heart. It’s sore” Natasha’s voice was small and afraid, something she never really let loose. “Please fix me, make me forget” the slightly older avenger looked at Wanda with pleading eyes and Wanda teared up at the desperation. “Wha- Tasha no, I’m not using my magic on you. I’m telling Tony this is your last mission until I think you’re good to go again” she held her face gently and wiped Natasha’s lip. “Can you let me help you fix these nasty cuts up detka” Wanda moved around Nat with ease as she patched her girlfriend up.

Another roll of the unforgiving weather rang out and this time Natasha audibly and visibly whimpered closer to her girlfriend. “Oh baby, I’m almost done I’m sorry” Wanda frowned as she cleaned the last of Natasha’s face, now time for the torso. “Can you take your shirt off for me or do you want me to do it?” She asked softly and the redhead just lifted her arms up with a tense breath.

In a swift motion the spy was shirtless and Wanda had to hold back a gasp. She was severely bruised and painted all over with greens, blues and purples. “God babe, you’re a whole different colour” she whispered in shock grabbing her things to soothe the bruises. Tentatively, she began dabbing the cloth to remove all the dirt and grime off the tainted torso. “Wands it hurts” Natasha cowered back when her girlfriend brushed over a particular rib.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” she murmured as she finished her up quickly. The minute Wanda was done, Natasha fell into her arms, clinging onto her like she’d disappear. “Hey shh c’mon why don’t we get you into some comfy clothes hmm? We can worry about showering tomorrow” Wanda mused over the thought as her girlfriend could only sniffle and cling tighter. “I’ve got you you’re okay. You’re safe” Wanda held back her own tears as she carried Natasha to their room.

One thing for sure was that if they wanted Nat to go on any more missions, they’d have to get through Wanda first. There was no way anybody was gonna mess with a protective Wanda, not even Maria could convince her.

#anon #asks #witchy answers #letterbox 💌#wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda x natasha

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the-doomed-witch · 2 years

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She was Sunshine, I was Midnight Rain

✦ wanda maximoff x fem!reader | college AU ✦

Summary : Wherever you go, the anxiety follows. The only way you feel safe is when you’re alone with Wanda, but she loves partying a little too much. (Read warnings)

Word Count : 3.4k

Author’s Note : hi! my first fic on here. i’m kinda nervous 😬 any opinions / reblogs / etc are welcome 🖤 my gif btw!

Warnings : 18+ MINORS DNI. anxiety attacks, smut, dom!wanda, fingering, face riding, slight teasing, homophobia, angst + fluff if you squint. Also Wanda comforting reader <3.

YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO REPOST OR COPY MY WORK

— ✦ —

You held your hand up, placing it in front of Wanda’s. Her hands were a tad bit bigger than yours, but mostly they were warm. “Detka, your hands are so cold, I’m a little concerned.” she said, as she intertwined her fingers with yours.

“Um yeah Wands, it’s probably because of Professor Fury’s class, I’m kinda scared of his constantly unpredictable and upgraded techniques.” You try your best to chuckle it off but the brunette wouldn’t let go of your hand. Instead, she took both of them in hers and kept them in her lap. “Tell me what’s wrong.” she asks, with a firm stare towards you.

You don’t know what reply could count as adequate, so you just lie. “It’s nothing, in all likelihood it could be the air conditioner, I don’t know Wanda.” She knows you’re lying. You know that too. Thus, she takes a deep breath and places her hands on your cheeks. It feels so safe all alone with her, you close your eyes and wait for her to lean in.

She comes forward, bringing your lips together. Her left hand goes from your cheek to your jaw, the right one on your nape. She pulls you even closer, and moves her hand from your jaw to your waist, allowing you space to place your hands on her comfortably. So you do. She kisses you as passionately as always, like she couldn’t dare to live without you. And you would let her in, so enthusiastically, it seemed magical for a moment right there. You were living in magic as of then.

Both of you break the proximity of your lips to catch up. It’s so enchanting, and so gleeful, you start laughing with tears in your eyes. Wanda is flabbergasted for a second, but she knows her way of loving you too well to judge it, so she joins you. You tumble down on the bed with the pain in your stomach due to laughing, and pull down your girlfriend with you.

“We need to get ready for your favourite class Y/N.” she warns you jokingly. Of course the first class was Professor Fury’s. College was a few blocks away, and you barely had 20 minutes to prepare yourself mentally.

— ✦ —

As soon as both of you set foot on the campus, you knew what was next. Steve Rogers and his infamous homophobia. “Look at those girlies go! Will they kiss each other? Sounds terrifying to me!” he derided loudly from where he was standing along with the other jocks. It isn’t easy for you to not pay attention to his shit behaviour, but Wanda knows how to shut him up. So she grabs your hand, walks towards Steve, and says, “Hey Rogers, you might wanna see this!” Without further ado, she grabs your chin and kisses you intensely right there. It didn’t make sense; you were enjoying it, while your anxiety was eating up pieces of you.

When both of you let go, Steve commented yet again, “Ew, how do you even do that?”

“No one is stopping you from kissing guys Rogers, if that’s what you mean.” Wanda snapped right back at him, enough for the crowd to listen. The whole campus, including the security guard, started laughing at Steve. His face was burning with shame.

“Where did you get all those guts from Maximoff?” Natasha asked, as soon as you were in the corridor. People had probably found the gossip for the day, and it made you anxious to be the crux of it.

“Just a little bit of how much I love Y/N.” You simply blushed, too stressed out to form a reply. Wanda understood you immediately and tried to excuse the both of you, but Nat called both of you again, for a reminder. “You both are coming to Stark’s party tonight right? Don’t tell me you aren’t, or I’m gonna throw tantrums around.” There it was, what you’ve been avoiding all morning.

“Of course we are coming, Nat. On all voluntary levels, we want to see you get drunk and run off with Maria again!”

“Shut UP!”

Giggling at Nat’s red face, you and Wanda walk away. You just wanted to get this done with.

— ✦ —

The rest of the day at college was the same, and a little weird. People were looking at you, and Steve Rogers didn’t annoy you at all. Smooth as silk, the classes ended by the afternoon.

Wanda dropped you off at the bookstore where you worked, and went back home for a little refreshment. She told you, “I’ll be back in half an hour Y/N, back me up till then.” It was the easiest task ever, you loved annoying your boss anyways.

The day was as simple as ever, there was nothing new to worry about except the Stark party. It physically hurts your stomach to even think of being surrounded by the number of people there. And Wanda would probably talk to all of them. It was frightening.

By the evening, you came up with a hundred different excuses to not go to the party, but none of them were going to convince Wanda. She knew you too well. There seemed to be literally no escape.

— ✦ —

“Malyshk, are you ready? It’s been almost an hour. Do you need my help?”

“I’m coming just-” and all that Wanda heard was a zipper being zipped up, followed by a shriek. She came running inside the room and started chuckling. Between bursts of laughter, she managed to say, “Caught your side boob in the zipper again, didn’t you? Let me help you out.”

You raise your left arm up so she can pull the zip down. When she did, you had a little bruise on your side. Without thinking twice, Wanda kisses it softly. Being under the pain of the bruise all the while, you didn’t notice how gorgeous Wanda actually looked in her wine coloured dress, her brunette hair all curled setting down on her shoulders. Her dress barely reached her knees, so you could see the tattoo on her outer thigh.

With a wide smirk, Wanda gives you a little bite and if you hadn’t controlled yourself, you would’ve moaned out loud enough to let your neighbours listen. She laid you down on the bed and put her hand inside your dress to massage the breast. She did it like an expert, you felt too aroused considering it hadn’t even been a minute.

“Darling, please…” was all that you could say with tightly closed eyes.

She zipped your dress back up again, and grabbed you by the waist. She looks at you and asks you innocently, “Yes detka?”

It wasn’t fair of her to tease you this way. So you continued with her game, even though you needed her so badly. “We are going to be late for the party. Again.”

— ✦ —

It isn’t your first Stark party, but even looking around seems like a scary thought to you. You’ve been here thrice in the past two weeks. But there are so many people around, it is probably half of the town. Wanda holds your chilled hand and walks inside beside you, with an air of confidence while you barely manage to crack a smile.

“Y/N! Wanda! You’re here, finally! Look at you, so gorgeous.” Natasha escapes from a larger chunk of a crowd when she notices you. With her comes Maria Hill. You could call them girlfriends, but they keep on saying it’s nothing official. The entire college knows otherwise.

You let Wanda do all the talking, signaling her to reply by tightening your grip on her hand. “Hey Nat. Hello Maria. And please, y’all look stunning. How long have you guys been here for?”

“We came here immediately after leaving college.”

“What?! So you’re telling me you’ve been partying for almost half the day already?”

“Uh, pretty much yeah. There was a before-party party.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You let out a little laugh, looking at Wanda’s shocked and confused expression.

Nat takes notice of you and says, “Look at this beauty! You’ve been all quiet Y/N. Is everything alright?” Your hand which was held by Wanda started trembling. You felt so not ready to be at yet another party with people you don’t know, or even talk to anyone. “Yea-yeah Nat, everything is alright.”

Maria suddenly recalls something she had been meaning to tell, and pats Wanda’s shoulder lightly. “Wanda! Do you know that Rogers isn’t showing up here tonight? Tony told me that Rogers had errands to run. Me and Nat just couldn’t stop laughing. You just silenced his homophobic ass.”

When you’re done talking with a few more people, Wanda takes you to a corner of the room and asks, “Lyubov, you’re getting extremely anxious again. Do you need something?” You don’t know what to say, your hands are shivering and you’re holding on to Wanda for dear life. “Wands, it’s okay. I just want to get this done with. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“Yes, love.”

She gives you a quick kiss on the corner of your lips and places a reassuring hand on your back. You give her a smile, and she walks around the room fulfilling formalities. You find yourself a comfortable spot on the couch to stress about.

On your phone, you seem to find nothing interesting. All social media is filled with pictures of the party you’re at. No fanfictions to read. You cannot listen to music because the one that’s being played is too loud. So you decide to have a look around in the Settings because it was the only possible option to make you seem busy.

— ✦ —

Almost two hours passed, and you had already figured out that Wanda might be dancing around somewhere on the dance floor. She was quite the party person, there was no denying in that. And you definitely didn’t enjoy parties. Against your will, you decide to get up and search for Wanda.

On the few metres’ long walk to the dance floor, about thirteen different people asked you to join them for a drink, or a dance. Some of them were too crazy to even ask, they just tugged at your arm. However, you managed to reach your girlfriend.

“Y/N! You’re here! Come on in, we love this song don’t we?” She calls you. You don’t even recognise the song, there are too many people. The lights are so dim, colours fluctuating so bright, music too loud. You could easily fall down crying in this moment, so you walk away to look for Tony.

After deep breathing for several minutes, you find the host. He’s passing sarcastic comments around with Peter Parker, it was kind of foreseen anyways. “Hey Tony,” you greet him, “You’ve hosted a wonderful party once more.”

“Why, thank you Y/N. Did you have something?”

“No I haven’t yet, I just need a quiet place to relax myself, I’ve been kinda tired from all the… partying.” you lied.

“Alright I’m gonna lead you to a quieter space.”

In the room, you filled yourself a glass of water and sat down. You needed Wanda but she was too busy having fun. You didn’t want to spoil her mood, especially when college research tires her out every day. You can’t go home leaving Wanda right here.

It feels like being a red brick in a group of pebbles. So easily falling apart, but so hard to break through.

— ✦ —

[ Wanda’s POV ]

I don’t seem to remember anything. A couple of minutes ago, Y/N was standing in front of me, now I cannot find her. Did she go back to our apartment, because I left her alone? No, I don’t remember anything! The car keys are with me, how did she even go? Oh my God, I hope she didn’t walk all the way back. I only wish she could get mad at me for once, why does she like punishing herself this way?

Maybe she informed Natasha before leaving, I could ask her.

“Hey Nat, have you seen Y/N?” I asked her.

“I don’t know, I last saw her with Stark about an hour ago. She is missing?”

“Uh no no, she told me she would be back in a while so yeah. Nothing serious.” I made it up so the party didn’t get bummed out. Y/N wouldn’t like all the attention diverted towards her for the second time today.

Alright so, Stark. He might be with Pepper, because I saw Peter leave for the night. I just hope he’s not with Jarvis. Anyone but Jarvis.

Luckily enough, Tony was with Pepper. So I approached them and asked, “Hey Tony, any chance you might have seen Y/N?” To my surprise, he told me how she had approached him for an undisturbed place. He guided me to the room where Y/N would be, and I thanked him.

Turning the door handle gently, I went inside. The room was kind of, like, super huge. On taking a glance around, I saw Y/N sitting on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her. Her mascara was ruined. Oh my God.

— ✦ —

[ Narrator's POV ]

Wanda was too astounded by the look on your face to say anything.

The moment was too sensitive, too broken for either of you to say something. She felt like a burden on you, you felt like a burden on her.

She tried to say something, “Y/N… you- I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, Wands, it’s alright. Come here. I missed you.” You open the blanket for her to join you. She takes off her boots and climbs on the bed, wrapping you up in her embrace.

“Talk to me, detka.”

“There’s nothing to talk about honey. I guess I'm just not the type of person you could have fun with.”

“Shush! You’re the person I would spend forever with. What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry Wanda, I know you love parties. I know you love being around people and loud music and party lights and drinks. I know you love dancing around and I know you love doing all of that all throughout the night. I am so sorry I am ruining your party, I know you get stressed out because of college and need to feel a little fresh. I’m sorry I cannot be like that. You can feel free to leave me all you want.”

“Hey, not a single word about me leaving you. Or you leaving me. You don’t have to be sorry for being who you are, malyshk. Yes, I love parties but not at the cost of you. I’d rather not have a party for years than make you cry all alone every time I go to one.”

“Oh my goodness, no! I feel like I’m being so toxic about this. I don’t want you to cut off everyone else for me, or stop having fun because of me. Gosh, I can’t-”

She softly places a finger on your mouth, motioning for you to pause your overthinking. “You are not being toxic, it’s okay to feel this way. Anyone in your shoes would feel uncomfortable and insecure, I understand you completely. Don’t apologise, dear. I love you so much Y/N/N.”

You smile wide at her, and reply, “I love you too Wands. So so much.” Thanks to an occasional idea that you got, you shift your position to sit in front of her, straddling her lap. Holding her face between both your hands, you bring your lips together. The kiss wasn’t heated, but it wasn’t soft either. Just the perfect bit of each. You push her against the headboard and intensify yourself by seeking access. She permits you, and your tongues meet. She tastes a bit like alcohol, but mostly her own sweetness, and you’re so here for it. Her hand goes for your lower back, and the other in your hair.

When a small distance is created between the two of you, she pushes you down on the bed so she could be on your top. Once both of you had caught up on your breaths, she kissed you again and again all over your face, making you shut your eyes and grin. With each kiss that she planted, she muttered a little “I love you” and it fluttered the butterflies in your stomach. It was kind of difficult, but you began grinding against Wanda, but she stopped her kisses and held you in place. “Baby, let’s not mess up Stark’s bed. I’m gonna take you home, can you be a little patient for me?” Reluctantly, you nod. She was right.

Both of you get up, and rearrange your clothes. She helps you adjust your makeup, and does her own too. Ten minutes later, you’re both in the car, the only thought of Wanda touching you at home keeping you from going crazy.

— ✦ —

As soon as you enter the house, Wanda holds your waist and whispers in your ear, “My pretty baby,” then kisses your cheek, “Such a pretty baby. I love you.” You are practically breathless. You know she’s teasing you by showering love in all the different ways except the one you desperately need right now.

“This lavender dress, it’s too beautiful. What a shame the zip hurt my baby. Should I tear it?”

“No…” you whisper.

“Well then, if you say no, then it’s a no. We only have one way left, and it’s the zip.”

You know she’s being annoying on purpose. And it’s getting on your nerves. She takes her time to lower the zip, so carefully that the exact moment you step inside the bedroom, the zip reaches the bottommost point. She takes off your dress and puts it aside. “Relax yourself, lyubov.” You sit on the edge of the bed waiting for her. She got rid of her own dress and walked towards you. Placing a finger on your chin, she lifts your head up and asks you, “Pretty baby, what do you want?”

You had enough. So you decided to play her game yet again. “I want what you want to give me.”

“And what do I want to give you?”

“Three fingers.” Her eyes widen at your sudden bold response. Your own did too. “Alright, if that’s what you want.”

You rest your head on the pillow and pull her by the neck, “Fuck me, Wanda.”

“I’d be a fool not to.” was all that she said before taking off the rest of your clothes. Gently, she pushes two fingers inside your heat. “You’re drenching, and all for me detka.” Pushing a third digit in, she repeats, “All for me.”

It felt too much. You hadn’t thought it through but you were thankful you didn’t, because she started hitting all the spots that elicited raw screams out of you. She knew how to make you feel good like the back of her hand. Echoes of Wanda’s name filled the apartment, you could barely control your volume. And Wanda was enjoying all of it.

Her free hand reaches your chest, softly encouraging your moans. “Y/N, you look so fucking beautiful.” You were getting all worked up, so she started focusing on stimulating your clit.

Not so long after, you try warning her between pants and moans, “Wanda, I-”

“Yes, my pretty baby, make a mess for me, look at me when you do.”

You manage to stare at her when you come. She rides you through it, and looks into your eyes fondly. Once you calm down from your high, she takes out her fingers and cleans them up with her tongue. The sight itself is magnificent, but she adds a whole different effect by humming. It makes you want to fuck her all night long. You smile at her, as Wanda moves away strands of hair from your face.

“I love it when you call me that” you tell her.

“Call you what? Pretty baby?”

“No. Your pretty baby.”

She blushes, and kisses you hard. “Yes, you’re my pretty baby. You’ve been such a good pretty baby.”

“Does that mean I deserve a treat?” You say, and stick your tongue out. Wanda’s face goes insanely red, she’s too flushed to even say something. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“If you want me to shut up, you need to sit on my face.”

“Okay but don’t talk to me like that.”

“I will, because I’m gonna get a treat.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda smut #wanda x fem!reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x y/n #mcu wanda #100 notes !!!!! thank you ❤️

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skippyv20 · 1 year

Text

Our Prayer List🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has arthritis in her ankles and feet.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend Ann. She had bowel cancer, they missed her 5 year checkup and when she went for another minor operation her scan showed the bowel cancer has now spread to her liver so she is classed now as Stage 4 (terminal) cancer

Prayers and good thoughts for Riley’s family and friends as they mourn her passing.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s grandson who was at the ER today and has a severe ear infection.

Prayers and good thoughts for my friend who suffered broken C5C6 in a freak home accident. She has complete loss of her hands, and can only stand with an apparatus. She has a very long journey ahead of her.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter, who has many health issues and is feeling very overwhelmed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who suffers from anxiety and has terrifying nightmares that she fears may be back. Praying for peace in her heart and mind.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. Her dermatologist has started her on rosacea treatment. If she doesn’t see results in two weeks to a month she will need a biopsy.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother (Spain) who had vascular bypass in an effort to save his leg. The surgery was a success. Please pray for a quick recovery free of complications. He is doing so much better.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. She was her father’s caregiver until his passing and now is her mother’s caregiver. She is feeling very overwhelmed and is having difficulties with her family. She struggles with her faith at times.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s nephew who is mending a broken heart. We pray he meets his special “one” and finds love.

Prayers and good thoughts for Kylee who has run away. Kylee is facing many battles, and is 16 yrs old. Kylee has attempted suicide twice before and there is great fear she has tried again. We pray for her to be found safe, and that she is kept out of harm’s way. Her mother is at a loss and desperately needs prayers as well.

Our friend needs prayers. I found out in February I have uterine cancer. I am having trouble to get all of my doctors approval to get the DNC and hysterectomy. The DNC is scheduled for June 19th. My Cardiologist in Texas would not approve the surgery. Because of the divorce I had/ have no place to live. My sister, God Bless her, has taken me in, in Indiana. The struggle I continuously have is my health. I have been hospitalized at least 8 times since January 10th. I black out and fall- and ended up with a broken back. They discovered cancer, and I continue to battle my water pills and my potassium levels. So please pray for my heart, and my kidneys. Please pray I can find new doctors here in Indiana. My doctors in Dallas will no longer help me. Pray I can get 3 years of Cobra insurance in the divorce. Please pray I don’t have cancer. And please pray God will show me why I am still alive. My 2 daughters have blocked me in every way, and have told my sister to take care of me when her husband is dying of heart failure. I pray I can save enough to pay attorneys, and my health needs. Thank you so very much for all the prayers. Losing a husband of 33 years and both my daughters all at the same time is a great trauma in my life right now. I pray they will come back to me. And please pray for my sister and mom who are taking care of me.

Our friend’s BIL can barely eat and is exhausted. He has to strengthen his heart muscles, so he can have heart surgery. They have not scheduled it and won’t until they are sure he will survive. He died on the table his last open heart surgery and was in a coma for 2 weeks, so he is understandably scared to have the surgery. Please pray for him and my sister.

Our friend is mourning the loss of her mother, and facing financial problems. She is very overwhelmed at this time.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend that is struggling with faith. She feels God isn’t with her. She is lost and frightened and feeling alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband is very, very ill. Prayers for the whole family. They are facing many obstacles for healthcare at this time. Her husband’s pancreas is all but dead tissue but it keeps swelling and then going down, this has caused his liver to start failing. He is facing many medical issues. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend and her daughter and her husband. The daughter has lupus, and risked her own life to have a baby as she so wanted to be a mother. Their little son was born prematurely weighing 500 grams on Friday and sadly he died on Monday evening. They are absolutely heartbroken.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is mourning the loss of her cousin. Also, prayers for her aunt (who is feeling suicidal from the loss of her daughter), prayers for her husband and her children.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s former sister in-law and brother in-law. She was diagnosed with tongue and throat cancer in January and in March he was diagnosed with lung cancer. Also for their 2 daughters who are taking care of them.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is mourning the passing of her beloved mother. Prayers for her mother’s journey home

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. She is suffering from an anxiety and fear. She is in desperate need of another job, and is worried about her finances. She is being bullied and stalked.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby Roy’s family as they mourn his loss. Praying for them to have peace and to feel God’s loving presence as they continue to mourn.

Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend, who is suffering from severe back pain & pain in other hip

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been facing many trials, and is in need of prayers. The last 18 months have been hard, and things still not what they should be.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family friend who had a stroke. His right side is paralyzed, but he has some sensation. He is very down at this time. He will now face new trials because of his condition.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family member who we pray will join AA. We pray for success.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is in financial despair. She is really struggling as she has no one to turn to in real life. She is out of work, and there are no jobs to be found. All of her savings are almost gone and she is afraid she may lose her home.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has severe iron deficiency and the treatment is very harsh and makes her sick. Her husband has been unfaithful during her illness and her family is ignoring me. She feels very alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been battling depression long-term due to trauma and the resulting difficult circumstances.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s son-in-law’s mother. She has cancer in her spine, leg and lung. She will be having surgery on her spine. This woman raised 4 boys by herself, her now 23 year old son is severely autistic and needs 24/7 care, which his mom has provided him his entire life. She is only 64 years old, a wonderful person, warm, loving and very independent. My heart breaks for her. Please also pray for my son in law - he is in the Navy, fortunately stationed only a few hours from his mom. He has power of attorney for his mom and his brother’s care - he has some very difficult and no doubt heart wrenching decisions to make.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter who is struggling. She is in much pain mentally. We prayer for her family as well as they try desperately to help her.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James and his heart brother Matthew. Also their heart brother Conrad

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indigosunsetao3 · 7 months

Text

Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 11 - Tension

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 8.7k words - AO3 Link

Emma walked down to the gym the next morning feeling the soreness between her legs and down the back of them as she moved. Soap had really done a number on her but it was a nice sore, one that had her biting her lip and smiling to herself as she scanned into the already lit-up room to find it occupied more than usual. Soap was already in there at the weights, shifting them about as he assessed what he could and couldn’t use. Emma stared at his back for a moment and he caught her eye in the mirror but gave her the most subtle shake of his head and dared to dart a glance toward Ghost. She hadn’t even seen Ghost sitting there, her eyes had zeroed in on Johnny as if he were a magnet drawing her in.

Ghost was seated on a bench with his forearms resting on his knees just staring daggers into Soap’s back. He was watching his every move, narrowing his eyes as Soap picked up a heavier weight, thought better of it, and put it back down. It was as if Soap were taking his time, purposely distracting Ghost, because he knew what weights he had been cleared to use by Emma and what he needed to wait on. She may have agreed to clear him today but they still needed to put on a show of it, act as if nothing had changed overnight.

The minute Ghost saw Emma staring he locked his eyes on her instead. “Need something?” He asked, his voice low.

“Ah, no,” Emma ventured, hating that she heard her own voice tremble a bit. She turned her head over to the treadmills to find Alex there, walking leisurely but monitoring the situation carefully. “I was just surprised to see everyone is all,” which was the truth. She didn’t add on it felt like the atmosphere was charged and a bomb was going to go off any minute.

“Then I suggest you get to work,” Ghost answered. “Soap is perfectly capable of lifting a dumbbell without you hovering,” he snapped. Emma opened her mouth to retort but chose to venture off to a machine, her eyes daring to look at Soap again but he didn’t meet her glance. Something was definitely off and she felt the cold surge of anxiety start to build in her stomach.

“Morning,” Emma mumbled to Alex who merely grimaced at her before mumbling a good morning back. Something had happened between Soap and Ghost after she had left them alone the night before, but she was terrified to know what. Surely, Ghost didn’t know what happened between them? It had to be something else she assured herself but she couldn’t think what else it could have been.

All the giddy excitement had been wiped out of her by the time she was done at the gym. No one was really talking to one another and Ghost seemed to be acting like a guard for Soap against her. He wouldn’t let her near him, using his body language and positioning to keep her blocked from him and vice versa. As each minute passed the dread was building up inside of her, he knew. There was no way he didn’t know. Now what was he going to do with that knowledge? If Price found out, Laswell, her contract could be in jeopardy and it was more than just her job on the line here.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex muttered as they walked out of the gym together leaving Soap and Ghost to it. “Ghost is just, well, he’s being his usual asshole self. Something pissed him off and he’s making Soap his target of it,” Alex explained as he wiped at his hair with a towel. He was easing back into his workouts and the little that he did today normally wouldn’t have made him even break a sweat had him drenched in it.

“Alex,” Emma bit her cheek, hesitating on spilling her guts on everything. She knew she could trust him, she had talked and grown close with him over the past few weeks. He was a sympathetic ear and always willing to dole out advice to her or give her tips on dealing with everyone in the 141. But she hadn’t talked to Soap about it and didn’t know how he would feel if she said anything to him about what happened between them. She stared up at him as he waited patiently for her to finish the debate in her mind, “would Ghost say anything?” She knew that was a very vague statement but she hoped he picked up on what she was trying to convey without actually saying it, “if he knew something would he tell Price? Or Laswell?”

Alex hesitated, it was his turn to figure out just what he wanted to say to her and how to say it. “Ghost isn’t going to run to leadership if he doesn’t have cause. He works out his issues on his own,” he finally said, pausing to gesture her down an empty hallway as a group of people headed their way. “He’s not vindictive for the hell of it,” he tried to explain before sighing. Emma knew there was more to it, more that he wanted to tell her but wouldn’t, or couldn’t. “Just…trust me when I say that Ghost is protective of his team,” he reached out and grabbed her upper arm gently, “his whole team.”

Emma scoffed, she knew it wasn’t his whole team because Ghost looked at her like he wished nothing more but to stamp her out, he was only putting up with her because Price said he had to. “Yes, even you,” Alex continued knowing what she was thinking. “There’s been things happening that have him on edge. Our mission where Soap and I got hurt made matters even worse,” he sighed again and let go of her arm to wipe at his face again. “I’m sorry can’t give you more than that.”

“Things like me,” Emma ventured as she crossed her arms over her chest, “he’s been angry at me since I first started, he made it very clear I’m not welcome and he doesn’t want anything to do with me.” There had been a moment, a brief one, where it looked like they might get along. During those long days when the rest of the team was gone, it was just the two of them working and waiting on news. That was short-lived though because the moment the group was back it was as if the switch had been flipped back.

“That’s not true,” Alex stated, “look I know Ghost isn’t as friendly as the rest of us but you wouldn’t be here at all if you weren’t welcome. He would have had Price pawn you off on someone else or just sent you away altogether. Price listens to Ghost’s opinions and respects them.” Emma gave him an incredulous look, “I really need you to just listen to me, okay?” His face turned serious as he stared down at her, “I need you to just trust what I am telling you, don’t keep poking. Just keep doing what you are doing and it’ll be fine. Soap and Ghost need to work out their own shit.” His face split into a grin and Emma reluctantly gave him a smile back. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”

“Fine,” Emma finally agreed though she was still nervous. Alex didn’t know everything that happened between her and Soap. She knew Alex suspected but she had a very uncomfortable feeling that Ghost knew for sure and he was pissed about it. How it was any of his business, aside from the fact it was frowned upon, Emma wasn’t sure but he seemed to be taking everything she did personally.

Just as they were about to walk away Emma spotted Crane walking down the hallway, his eyes cutting to them briefly before going back to the papers he was reviewing. “Morning,” Emma called to him with a small smile, which he returned before Alex twisted away from her to go walk with him. As if she weren’t paranoid enough that morning now she had to worry about how much, if any, of the conversation Crane had just heard.

“Now that Soap is back, we’re almost at full capacity,” Price explained as they stood outside of the warehouse. Emma had cleared Soap a few hours before, turning over the paperwork to Price who seemed pleased with his progress. Even if Soap said he thought it would be funny to tell Price about what made her make the choice, Emma didn’t dare. Just the thought of Price even knowing had made her cheeks hot and she had to shake it off before she went into his office.

“Alex has been cleared to do run throughs, but only at light duty,” he nodded his head toward Alex who was suited up with the rest of them. Emma had given Alex the green light for light duty only, he was to be closely monitored and to step away if he felt any strain. Alex had agreed and unlike Soap she trusted he wouldn’t actually overdo it.

The wind had picked up in the desert today and all of them had some sort of covering over their faces, including Emma who had a scarf tied tightly over her face. It made the heat feel more suffocating to be breathing under the cloth but the sand was blowing everywhere. How Ghost wore his face covering all the time she’d never know, she always instantly ripped her masks off at the hospital.

“We’re going to run team drills,” Price instructed, “Alex and Gaz,” he gestured to them and they nodded, “Ghost and Crane,” he pointed to them and the two men looked at one another and nodded, “Emma and Soap,” he pointed to Emma and Soap, to which they both tilted their heads in acknowledgment. Emma dared to cut her eyes over to Soap who had a full-on balaclava over his face, like Ghost, except it was just solid black. He didn’t look at her though, his eyes were face forward on the door and he adjusted his gun strap over his shoulder.

“First team to the roof wins,” Price answered. “Both members have to make it, and if you’re last, you’ll be running laps around the base until I say stop,” which was punishment enough. The dust was thick outside and it was hard enough to breathe through protective face wear without running. “You’re clear to incapacitate other teams as long as it doesn’t end up with a hospital visit.” Price’s eyes landed pointedly on Ghost before darting over to Soap. Even Price must have picked up on the tension between the two of them, it was oozing off them just standing there. “I know I don’t have to say it, but don’t break Alex,” his eyes roved over the rest group and Crane chuckled a bit, “just touch him out.”

“If you catch me,” Alex replied, his eyes crinkling up in a smirk which earned him a pat on his shoulder from Gaz. Price himself seemed to grin before opening the door, “everyone in, and when I say go, you have forty-five seconds to separate and work your way to the end.”

Emma moved to stand next to Soap once they were inside, her eyes moving to look up at him as she took a few steadying breaths. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, she could see the tension in his shoulders even under all his gear and his eyes were tight. This was not how she pictured the day after going between them. She pictured shy glances, well shy from her cocky from him, and subtle teasing. The fun stuff, none of these tense and slightly awkward exchanges they were having.

“Fine,” Soap answered her in a clipped tone as he turned to look down at her before his eyes snapped up to Ghost who was watching them again. “I need you just be quick, alright? I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to be,” he explained as Emma turned to follow Soap’s eyeline to see Ghost staring at them. “I’m not looking for a fight, I’m looking to just get to the roof and getting you out of here,” he finished, moving his hand as if he were going to grab hers but stopping himself and dropping it back to his side. It had been the only soft gesture from him all day.

Emma nodded, feeling the nerves start to give her the shakes in her knees and hands. She and Soap hadn’t had a chance to train together this way before and based on how all the other training had gone they were going to get caught first. She needed to learn Soap’s technique, which took time they seemingly didn’t have because it felt like Ghost was going to be hunting them personally.

“Go,” came Price’s voice over the intercom and everyone was moving. Emma stayed close behind Soap as he moved toward the back corner of the warehouse. Back to where they had just been the night before and if Emma hadn’t been so worried about trying to put as much distance between them and Ghost as they could she would have said something. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ghost and Crane slip down a side street but turned her attention back to Soap as he held his hand out to her to get her to move along.

Soap moved with a grace that was surprising for someone as stocky as he was, his foot falls quiet as he led them down street after street. He paused only to climb over a fence and extend his arms out to help her, or to open a door do a quick sweep then usher her inside. They were making good progress but Emma kept looking over her shoulder as they went, knowing that Crane liked to lurk behind and Ghost enjoyed lunging from the shadows. She was on edge, nearly jumping out of her skin when the strap on her helmet moved out of the corner of her eye.

“We’re good for now,” Soap said quietly, his voice muffled by the balaclava as he knelt down at a doorway and peered out it. His gun with the yellow cover on the end of the muzzle was resting lightly on his thigh as he caught his breath and watched the area. “Alex and Gaz are avoiding us, I saw them a few yards back,” he explained and Emma knew her face portrayed confusion. She hadn’t seen them at all, but Soap must have picked them off at some point. “I don’t care if they get there first, I just care we don’t get there last,” he explained as Emma shifted as if she were ready to run if he asked her to, to outpace Gaz and Alex.

Emma nodded rolled back on her heels again and pressed herself into Soap’s back waiting for his signal. He was tense, his shoulders shifting under her hands as he looked about and Emma squeezed her fingers lightly on him. He didn’t shove her off, that was a good sign, right? Maybe he just didn’t want to show any type of affection or attention in front of the rest of the group, though that hadn’t stopped him before. Her eyes were darting around the room as they crouched there, checking the other entrances into this house but she didn’t see or hear a thing. This area of the warehouse was darker and she didn’t like how the shadows seemed to move because there was a chance it was Ghost in them. “What is going on between you and Ghost?” Emma ventured after a moment, daring to address the obvious tension.

“Nothing,” Soap answered quickly, not taking his eyes off the street to look at her. “Nothing you have to worry about anyway,” he added on before cocking his head to the side as if listening. He must have heard something Emma didn’t because he quickly turned around and put his finger to his covered lips to indicate for her to be quiet.

Emma nodded, letting go of his shoulders, and strained her ears to hear something, anything, but all that came to her was the buzzing of the light outside and her own heavy breathing. She needed to work on her listening skills apparently because Soap was tracking something, he leaned out the door slightly to peer before jolting back. His eyes gave it away before he opened his mouth to speak, someone was close.

“Go,” Soap suddenly whispered and pointed to the back door. Rising together they moved, Soap’s hand on the back of Emma’s neck to keep her down as they exited the back door. They quickly jumped another fence, Soap grabbing her waist and hoisting her up and over before following behind. They were crouched moving around front yards before slipping into what looked like a fake library. There were rows and rows of shelves with books, though Emma suspected they were fake.

This building seemed to not be used much in training, there was dust flying as they swept through. She made a mental note to come back here next time she had to go it alone, there were plenty of hiding spots and this was obviously overlooked. After they cleared the main entrance Soap had them darting down the middle of one of the stacks before pausing and turning around to face Emma so she ran right into his chest.

“They’re right behind us,” Soap breathed into her ear as he curled around her, his arms steading her rocking frame from being thrown off balance. “I need you to stay down and stay quiet. I’m going to get Crane. If I can get him to tap, we are home free because both team members have to make it,” he sounded worried. Why the hell was he so worried? It was a training exercise, right? Price was watching them and he had said no hospital level injuries. “Just wait here, don’t move,” Soap reiterated before he stood up and disappeared around a corner.

Emma stayed where she was, her body crouched and ready to run to the point where she felt like she was vibrating with anticipation. She heard a noise to her right that made her jump, it sounded like a scuffle and there were a few grunts and the sound of something hitting the wall, then…a laugh? Were they laughing about this? She supposed this type of training really was a game to most of them, but Ghost made it seem like it was a true hunt. Emma shut her eyes to try and hear better when she was grabbed around the middle and yanked off balance. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She was hauled up and back off her feet in a swift motion and she felt the shriek leave her lips involuntarily as rough arms slammed her down face-first into the ground. She knew it was Ghost, it had to be because no one else was this brutal with her, and Gaz and Alex had probably almost made it to the roof by now. She squirmed and kicked back with her foot and she extended her arms in front of her to try and crawl away but her ankle was grabbed and dragged back. “Get off,” Emma shrieked, feeling panic build up in her throat. This was different, all of this felt different and wrong and she was actually scared this time. Alex’s words to trust Ghost were ringing in her head but she couldn’t, he wasn’t here seeing or feeling this.

“Make me,” Ghost snarled as he pinned her to the floor with the crushing weight of his own body. One of his hands made quick work of her helmet strap and he knocked it away just so he could push her face harder into the floor, her jaw screaming from the pressure. “Make me get off you, Sleeper,” he stated again as his hand gripped hard at the back of her neck to keep her head and shoulders pinned to the floor. Emma froze for a moment, the use of her old nickname from her Air Force days had been like a slap from the past she wasn’t expecting. How did he know that? It wasn’t in her file because it wasn’t an official call sign, just a nickname from friends. She hadn’t even told Soap that in all their late-night talking because she honestly forgot all about it.

She didn’t have time to linger on it as he twisted the fist into the back of her scarf so it was pulled tight over her mouth and nose making it even harder to breathe as he leaned down close to the side of her head. “Fight me off,” he ordered right into her ear, his mouth close enough that his mask brushed over her ear which made Emma jerk away. She couldn’t move far though, he was straddled over her hips, his legs pinning hers and his chest was pressed up tight against her back.

Emma was breathing fast as she wriggled under him, her hands searching for grip on the floor to try and push herself up and throw him off. They weren’t finding it though; her nerves were causing her to shake so she couldn’t get her arms in the right position to even try and push him off. Emma couldn’t think straight with him on her like this in the semi-darkness, her eyes were blinking rapidly to try and see but all she could think about was the pain in her face and how crushed she felt under his body weight. There was no way out of it, she was going to have to tap and that meant she and Soap would be running laps but at this point, she’d rather be out in the heat struggling to breathe from dust than here. Emma slapped her hand rapidly onto the floor waiting for the release of the pressure on her and to be able to breathe properly again. But he didn’t let go. He instead grabbed the hand that was extended out pulled it hard behind her back and held her wrist like a vice.

“No,” he said pushing right up against her ear again in a soft whisper, “you aren’t tapping. You know how to get out of this,” Ghost instructed and Emma all but sobbed at him in response, the panic taking hold now. “Take a fucking moment to breathe and throw me off,” he stated, shaking his hand that held the scarf tight around her face before he squeezed his other hand tight on her wrist again. The pain of both of his actions was like a hot poker line that served as a jolt in her mind to focus on the agony and not the panic. “Breathe,” he instructed again, his voice still a command but maybe not as lethal sounding. “Get yourself out of this without taking the easy way out. There is no tapping when you’re in the field. You get free or you die,” he curled his fist tighter on her scarf and Emma whimpered as she tried to gather her thoughts.

Emma was going to have a panic attack; she could feel it starting to build as her fingers and toes grew numb, her breathing was fast and shallow trying to get enough air into her lungs. The lightheadedness was starting to fog her mind but she still attempted to fight, using her hips to try and twist to push Ghost off of her side. That didn’t work and she attempted to get her knees up so she could buck him forward off of her, but her legs just scrambled weakly on the ground. It wasn’t working, she was stuck and she couldn’t think of any other way to get him off and he certainly wasn’t going to help her.

“I can’t,” she cried out after a moment as she moved to rip the scarf off her mouth with her only free hand to get a proper breath, gasping as the cooler air hit her face. She was twisting and turning under in him the way an animal would if they were cornered. “I tap Ghost, please, I tap,” she begged but he still didn’t move, the hand around the scarf now pulling it tight around her neck. He was going to make her fight her way out of this or let her pass out. Would he even notice if she just gave up the fight and went limp? Would he care?

Then a bunch of things happened all at once. There was the sound of loud footfalls, a curse, and a set of boots near her head. Then Emma felt the weight on her back suddenly relent before a crashing sound against the bookshelves. Without Ghost on her back, Emma took her first real deep gasping breath and she pushed up onto her hands to look up and see what happened. Tears were streaming down her face and furiously wiped at them, not wanting anyone to see before she ripped the damned scarf off her and threw it to the floor.

“She fucking tapped Ghost,” Soap was snarling as he and Ghost tussled against the bookshelves. Soap had his back to the books and Ghost had him pinned, his forearm on Soap’s throat to hold him there. Soap didn’t stay that way for long though as he knocked the arm away and aimed for a hit against Ghost’s ribs which caused Ghost to grunt and double over. “You know the goddamn rules, you let up when someone taps,” Soap continued before Ghost slammed an elbow into the side of Soap’s head, causing Soap’s head to snap to the side and him to stumble back. Soap instantly retaliated until they were cursing and hitting one another in such a vicious brawl Emma scurried up and away to get out of the path. She backed up right into Crane who was standing there looking almost as shocked as she felt, but he didn’t move to intervene.

“Get your head out of your fucking cock Soap,” Ghost answered as Soap looked like he was going to aim a kick right for Ghost’s chest. Ghost anticipated it and grabbed his foot and yanked it so Soap lost his footing and fell back into the shelf again and Ghost was on him in an instant, his face nose to nose to Soap’s. “You think you are helping her by rescuing her?” Ghost barked. “She needs to figure out her own fucking shit without all of you coddling her. She needs to learn to master her fear and get out of situations because we won’t always be there.” He slammed his palms into Soap’s chest before backing up and pulling down his mask over his nose to wipe away the blood that was gushing there.

Soap was fuming. He had a split above his eyebrow and he pulled down his own mask to spit blood onto the floor as he stared at Ghost. “You have done nothing but berate and belittle her since she got here,” Soap answered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve never acted like this toward anyone, not even me. She’s absolutely covered in bruises, Ghost. Some of them are the exact shape of your fucking hands,” he snarled as he gestured toward Emma who felt herself shrink as both men looked over at her.

“And how do you know that?” Ghost asked quietly, his voice so low Emma could barely hear it. “Hmm?” He questioned as Soap didn’t respond to the question, obviously looking for a good answer that didn’t implicate both him and Emma. Ghost stalked back to fill the space between him and Soap again. “Tell me. How do you know she has bruises all over her body, Sergeant?” Ghost continued, “have you seen them?”

“Yes,” Soap said after a moment of charged silence. He glanced over at Emma who was still standing back by Crane, fighting the urge to just run. She felt all the eyes on her, including Crane and she knew Price was watching all of this go down on camera. “You can see them now if you look at her. You can see where you have choked her so hard that she has five fingerprints on her throat. You can see it on her legs in the gym,” he made eye contact with Crane before looking back at Ghost. “We’ve all seen it,” Soap continued, skirting over the accusation that Ghost was throwing at him. Crane nodded his agreement as the two of them looked over again, though Crane obviously did not want to be involved in this fight.

Ghost laughed, actually laughed, at Soap before he answered, “you were always good at twisting the situation Johnny,” he patted him on the shoulder in a very sarcastic gesture that made Emma cringe. Everyone in the room knew what Ghost had been saying without saying it, that he knew Soap had seen Emma intimately and he wasn’t talking about innocent glances at her legs and neck. “I know what happened last night. I gave you a chance to tell me when I saw you come back, but you lied,” the last word a hiss, his voice lethal but so low Emma could barely hear it standing there. It was as if he were trying to keep it quiet from the cameras and maybe even Crane. “In all of your haste your goddamn mic was flipped on,” he explained before reaching out and flicking the throat mic on Soap’s neck before getting down to be almost nose to nose with Soap. “You’re lucky it was only me that heard. What would have happened if another commander did? Or if someone walked in? You would have been thoroughly fucked and not by her.” Ghost gestured to Emma with his free hand, his voice snarling on the word her.

Emma blanched; she could feel the blood rush from her face as Soap glanced sidelong at her before going back to Ghost. Soap had a look of concern as well but he didn’t let it show for long, his anger winning out over anything else. Ghost didn’t say what he had heard, which was still enough plausible deniability if Price or anyone questioned. Crane shifted uncomfortably on his feet but didn’t make any other sound as the men stared one another down.

“You asshole,” Soap seethed as he slapped Ghost’s hands away from his mic. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you sit there and listen like a filthy fucking dog? Listen and wish it were you instead?” He asked and reached out to shove Ghost but Ghost was faster and pinned Soap by the throat on the bookshelf, hard enough that Soap was forced up on his toes. Emma jumped at the impact but didn’t move to help, knowing her mere presence was only making this whole situation worse and what exactly could she do anyway.

“You’re done Sergeant,” Ghost snapped as Soap moved to fight him off, his arm aiming for the elbow to release Ghost’s grip. “That’s an order,” he tacked on and Soap froze. Pulling rank was a low blow and Soap narrowed his eyes ready to argue as Ghost finally released him. “Pack up your shit and go shower off. We’ll see you later. Emma needs a proper run through,” he cut his eyes to Emma then and she felt her body tense up. She knew Price wouldn’t let him actually kill her but it seemed pain and panic weren’t off the table and she was going to have to do this all over again, this time without Soap there to stop it.

Soap pushed off the books and he grabbed his discarded gun off the floor flinging it back over his shoulder. “Pulling rank is a bullshit answer,” Soap growled as he looked over at Ghost who was standing there with his arms crossed. “You just can’t handle when someone calls you out for your insane tactics and fucking snooping,” he needled as he realigned his vest. It seemed Soap was still looking for a fight because his last words were all it took. Ghost moved to lunge for him again and Soap had readied his hands when Price’s voice cut in over the intercom causing Emma to jump.

“Enough!” Price’s voice echoed, sounding pissed. “You’re both done. Soap, Ghost, get your shit together and get out of my training session,” he ordered and Emma looked at Ghost as he glared at the camera. “Figure yourselves out while we finish here and see me in my office at nineteen hundred hours to discuss this bullshit,” he finished. Soap and Ghost looked at one another before moving to leave the room, Soap daring to give Emma a sidelong look as he walked out the door. Emma was afraid they were going to continue fighting but Price seemed to lay down the law enough that they didn’t dare.

“Reset,” Price said a few moments later as a door in the distance slammed shut indicating Soap and Ghost had exited the building. “Everyone for themselves this time since two of you are goddamn children,” he snarled before the mic cut out.

Emma looked at Crane who merely shrugged before letting her lead the way back out to the beginning of the simulation. Alex and Gaz appeared looking confused as ever and Gaz leaned over to ask Emma what happened when Price cut back in with the countdown for them to begin. Emma was still shaking, her mind racing over everything that had just happened. She had been terrified before when Ghost had her pinned but now, she was beyond horrified about what she had witnessed between Soap and Ghost. They were teammates, had been for years, how were they going to come back from that? That fight seemed lethal and something had cracked between the two of them which made her heart ache. All of it was over her, because of her. And now what was Price going to do with all of them?

“Go,” Price called out over the intercom and Emma broke out in a run, her mind moving faster than her legs ever could.

When Price finally called an end three hours later Emma quickly left the warehouse, not wanting to talk about what had happened with anyone. She was sure Crane would fill in Gaz and Alex on it, and frankly she didn’t want to hear it again or see the looks. She also didn’t want Alex’s advice about how Ghost wasn’t that bad, how he was just trying to help her in his own way. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen what Ghost had done to her, or felt the crushing weight of him on his back. There were ways to train people and he was taking it to the extreme that probably would have had him kicked out if he tried it anywhere else outside of the 141. Then there was the fact he had heard what happened between her and Soap last night, the mortification she was feeling was enough to make her cry again and she hustled to the showers.

She stayed under the hot water until it ran out, people coming and going from the room as she just leaned against the wall and tried to get her thoughts in order. She needed to know what Soap was thinking, was he regretting what happened between them? Because she was sure he never would have reacted toward Ghost like that otherwise. She also needed to figure out where she stood now that everything was out in the open, without explicitly being out in the open. She didn’t want to just be viewed as Soap’s, whatever she was, and she couldn’t put her job in jeopardy over that. Then there was the worst thought of Ghost having overheard them together. How much had he heard? She hoped he had only listened long enough to garner what was happening before cutting off his feed. Why couldn’t it have been Gaz who caught them? He would have teased them both until their ears bled but it wouldn’t have felt as wrong, as dirty, as Ghost overhearing them.

Not wanting the water to turn to ice Emma left the showers, pulling on her dirty clothes again because she didn’t dare stop at her room, and headed out. She couldn’t go back to their area yet; Price wanted a meeting with Soap and Ghost and it would be another hour before that started and she couldn’t face any of them yet. So she turned and headed to the communications area and opted to check in with her family, sending her mother a short email and her brother a more lengthy one. It ate up a decent amount of her time, enough she thought the mess hall would be nearly empty so she could grab dinner. She didn’t feel hungry but she knew she needed to eat something or risk waking up with a killer headache in the morning.

She sat at a table alone and picked at her food, her eyes staring at the table seeing but not really seeing as she just sat with her thoughts. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall watching it slowly tick away the time, knowing Soap and Ghost were talking with Price, but not knowing how long it would take or when it would be over. Another hour dragged by and Emma saw the kitchen staff peering at her as they cleaned up and were politely giving her space but obviously wanting her to leave so they could be done for the night.

Taking the hint Emma rose from her chair when she heard the door swing open and someone call out her name. She tensed and turned around to find Price standing there looking serious but at least not murderous. “You’re a hard woman to track down,” he said as Emma approached the trash to dispose of her half-eaten food and tray.

“Tell that to Ghost,” Emma mumbled under her breath as she turned to face him. She had a feeling he was going to want to talk to her, though she didn’t think it would be tonight. “I can’t seem to do anything without him always right behind me,” she muttered and even looked behind Price to see if he was in the hallway.

Price just grinned a bit before gesturing her out of the mess hall, giving a small wave to the staff before following her out. “Let’s go talk in my office,” he stated simply before moving around her to lead the way. Emma felt the nerves in her stomach start to flutter at the thought of getting a talking to. Emma supposed she should be glad they were talking about this now and he wasn’t going to torture her and wait until the morning, because even though he had not indicated he wanted to talk to her it was only going to be a matter of time.

Once they were in the office Price shut the door lightly and moved to take a seat behind his desk, leaving Emma to take up one of the chairs in front of it. “Do you want to start or me?” He asked, his eyes locked on hers as Emma twisted her fingers in her lap from anxiety. When she spotted him watching her hands she stopped and rubbed them on her thighs to get the sweat off of them.

“You can, sir,” Emma answered, her fingers digging into the material of her pants to keep them from shaking. She felt like there was an axe looming over her head and was waiting for it to fall at any moment. Price wasn’t giving anything away in his body language, good or bad. “I’m honestly not sure where to start or what to talk about,” she admitted.

“Well, let’s start with the fight,” Price answered simply, “between Soap and Ghost. Care to tell me your side of it?” He asked, moving to lean on his desk so his forearms were braced on it, his hands clasped together.

“I, well, I don’t really have much to say? I was pinned by Ghost and he wasn’t letting me up after I tried to tap out so Soap knocked him off of me,” Emma started. “Then they sort of just got into it. Things have been tense between them all day, this morning at workout Ghost was watching him like a hawk and they were very short with one another,” Emma tacked on to which Price merely nodded.

“Soap told me that Ghost has been…unusually rough with you,” Price ventured, “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Emma said simply. “I don’t know what his usual is but he seems to take enjoyment in pinning me down, attacking me when I don’t suspect it, and nearly choking me out.” She reached up and unconsciously rubbed at her throat before letting her hand fall into her lap. “He terrifies me sometimes if I’m being honest.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to me?” Price asked simply, “I told you way back in the beginning that if you were hurt you were to come to me. How come you didn’t?”

Emma was a little flabbergasted at that and she took a moment to respond, “because I thought that’s just how he was? I thought it would get better and while he’s battered me, I’m not like permanently injured just…sore.”

Price nodded and leaned back in his chair, “I’ve seen Ghost with you,” he stated, “seen how he interacts with you in the warehouse run-throughs. He does target you,” he agreed then added, “but I’ve also seen how you’ve improved.” He nodded as Emma looked surprised. “I’ve had plenty of chances to step in but I haven’t because right when I’m about to call it, I can see you figure it out. But you hesitate, you panic and always tap your way out instead. You come so close but then you let your fear get you,” Price explained. “Is he a bit extreme? Yes, he is. But are you also benefiting and learning? Yes, you are.”

Emma felt a flash of anger at Price’s words of not intervening, that he saw how the situation was but he still let it go on. “He nearly choked me out tonight,” Emma fought back, “if Soap hadn’t pulled him off of me, I am sure I would have blacked out. He wasn’t listening to me when I tapped and he certainly wasn’t going to even give me a fighting chance. I’ve learned plenty from Gaz and he’s not holding a gun to my head while he’s training me to shoot.”

Price shook his head, “Ghost would never intentionally cause serious harm to a teammate,” he raised his eyebrows as Emma opened her mouth to argue back as if daring her to interrupt him. She quickly shut her mouth and waited. “I told him to push you. You need that one win, that one time to get him off of you and you would realize you could do it instead of falling back on your crutch of just tapping,” Price explained. “If something happens out in the field where one of us can’t get to you, do you think you’ll be able to tap out of that? That they’ll just let you go? You need to learn to fight through the fear and use your training to your advantage. I asked Ghost to train you in hand to hand because he’s the best,” Price paused, as if debating adding the next part, “and he willingly agreed. I didn’t have to ask twice or attempt to reason with him, he accepted the task instantly.”

Emma leaned back in her chair, a bit confused and overwhelmed by the revelations that Price was telling her. “I just,” she paused trying to think of what to say, “his methods are so barbaric and terrifying.” She looked at Price who merely nodded, as if to say yes that’s just how he is. “That doesn’t explain why he’s been acting the way he has toward Soap. I thought they were going to tear one another apart in there.”

“Ah,” Price said before moving to lean on the desk again. “That’s another issue entirely,” he looked at Emma, locking his eyes with her. “I can’t tell you everything, it’s not my place, but what I can say is Ghost doesn’t like when Johnny’s distracted.” He clasped his hands together and pointed both index fingers at Emma, “and you are currently a distraction.” His words weren’t accusatory, just a simple fact that needed to be laid out there and to Emma’s surprise he didn’t sound mad either.

“What, ah, I don’t know…” Emma spluttered not sure how she should respond to that. Should she apologize for being a distraction? Offer to not be one anymore? She wasn’t sure she could do that last one because giving up Soap wasn’t an option for her.

“I’m not asking you for a solution,” Price stated. “I’ve set Soap with the task of figuring it out himself. He has been distracted as of late, which caused him to get hurt. He needs to be able to separate his personal from work and not let either creep in on one another. I’ve also told Ghost to mind his own and to keep his thoughts on handling the matter to himself. He may be Lieutenant but I’m Captain and I have the final say” Price explained. “I don’t care what any of you do on your own personal time,” he continued, “but all of it stays out of work. If Soap, or you, cannot handle that then we’ll have to escalate to different measures. But, right now, I don’t want to push it, there are other things going on that require my attention to really care about interpersonal relations.” He smirked and rubbed his hands together leaning back in his chair again. “I would just suggest being a bit more…discreet. Ghost jammed the comm channel when he figured out what was going on, made a whole mess for communications for a bit but if someone on the base would have heard it would have been a much bigger issue for all of us.”

Emma flushed, the blush creeping all the way up her neck to her cheeks and ears, which were starting to ring a bit from the embarrassment. “Yes sir,” she mumbled, her eyes looking anywhere but his face, unable to take the knowing look he was giving her. “I…thanks,” she tacked on, “for all of it. For explaining Ghost and for not kicking me out because of mine and Soap’s…” she trailed off not sure what to call it.

“If I kicked people off my team for every little indiscretion, I wouldn’t have a team left, including myself,” Price answered and actually chuckled at Emma’s face for his boldness. “We aren’t celibates, we’re all adults here,” he tacked on, “you just need to make sure you keep it inconspicuous. Fraternization is not exactly allowed but we can skirt around it a bit due to the nature of our task force being a bit outside of the military rules. Just…don’t flaunt it is all I ask. If no one asks questions we don’t have to provide answers.”

Emma nodded, “right,” she said and watched as Price pulled a file out of his draw and dropped it on the desk between them.

“Now that’s out of the way, we’ve got a job to do,” he explained and flipped open the folder and turned it to face Emma. “Strictly intel gathering, easy first mission for you” he pointed to the listing of operatives and she was on there. Her name and her old nickname in quotations was fourth down on the list. “Ghost dug up your old nickname so when we’re out in the field you’re Sleeper. I avoid actual names if I can,” Price explained, “especially for civilians.”

“Right, okay,” Emma answered and moved to take the file and Price gestured for her to go ahead and retrieve it. “We leave tomorrow?” She asked as she read through the itinerary, “to Ukraine?” She looked up at that, as far as she was aware there were no ill wishes between Ukraine and the allies.

“Russian activity in Kyiv,” Price replied, “Laswell wants us in there to check it out. There are a few marks we are to follow and monitor. It’ll be all of us going this time, even Alex. This can’t wait any longer,” he said noticing how Emma pulled a face mention Alex would be there. “He’ll be in the safehouse working as the point of contact. We all have different jobs and places to be,” Price finished. “Plus, you’ll be there to watch him anyway, that is why we brought you on.”

Emma nodded as she flipped more pages looking at pictures of the marks and any information that they had on them. Habits, where they tended to hang out, associates, suspected activity, and known activity. “I’ll have to let the hospital know,” Emma stated as she looked up but Price just shook his head at her.

“Already taken care of. They knew the arrangement when they agreed to the contract, you could be called away at any moment, they have backup staff in place,” he explained before standing up from his seat. “Transport leaves at zero seven hundred. I suggest you go pack and get some sleep, it’s a long flight when you’re on a cargo plane,” he finished as a way of excusing her.

Emma rose from her chair and left the office, her newest file tucked under her arm. Her brain was fully fried, going from euphoria that morning, to confusion, anger, fear, humiliation, terror and now nervous anticipation had worn her out. She needed to find Soap and see how he was doing, how he felt after everything that had happened between the two of them then between him and Ghost. Just because Price seemed alright with the situation between her and Soap, she wasn’t sure Soap was going to feel the same. She knew his job was the most important thing to him and she was afraid he may agree she was too much of a distraction for him and too much of a risk; especially if it was causing strife.

“Soap?” Emma called quietly as she knocked lightly on his door. The light was off but she decided to try knocking anyway. Peering down the hall she saw Ghost’s light was off as well. When there was no response, she tried knocking lightly again just to be sure when Crane appeared in the hall.

“He’s out. Never came back after their little meeting with Price,” Crane said simply as he tossed some popcorn in his mouth, “both of them actually,” he added, nodding to Ghost’s door. “Probably figuring out whatever the hell that was during training,” Crane paused and looked at Emma who had just sighed. “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’ve butted heads before and fought, this was a little more intense but it’s not new.” He shrugged before turning back toward the common area, “we’re putting on a movie if you want to join. Little night before bonding time or some shit, Gaz’s idea.”

“I need to pack and go over my file,” Emma answered, shaking the folder a bit to show it, “maybe next time.” As much as she would have liked the distraction of a movie, she had things to read and items to pack before attempting to get some sleep. Mostly though she wanted to talk to Soap but she wasn’t about to go stalking about the base to go find him. There would be time to talk tomorrow, hopefully, before they were thrown into whatever this mission was. Or maybe he would seek her out in the middle of the night when he got back like last time. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Emma said after a beat of silence that had drawn on a little too long between them.

“Sure,” Crane said as he watched her a second longer then turned heel back toward the television where Gaz and Alex were currently sitting.

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #soap fanfic #call of duty #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

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From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Fourteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for the continued interest in this little story of mine :) As ever, 25 notes minimum are needed to unlock the next chapter. I hope everyone has a lovely weekend!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen

Words - 5,221

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Mami, are you sure you’re alright? I can hear you breathing over the aircon.”

Lily turned, nodding. “I’m good, just keep driving.”

It was her first time being without Angel since her attack eleven days ago, and Angie truly wasn’t convinced by her statement. She thought Lily was pushing herself for normalcy, that she thought she was being a burden on her boyfriend, a man who had assured her prior to leaving the house that if it was too much, she shouldn’t push herself. After she’d hung onto him at the door, he’d whispered to Angie that if she did begin to panic, to just bring her straight to the scrapyard, where he’d be working, even if she protested against it.

Over the last three days, despite her fear, she’d been trying hard to face the idea of being without him for short periods of time, taking little walks on her own to the end of the block and back (the first time she’d ran the entire way back, absolutely terrified) or asking him to go to the store for her, so she could see how she coped being alone in the house. The three times he’d done this, he’d returned to a visibly shaken Lily, gradually less so, but still not enough for him to feel like she was ready to spend an extended period of time without him close by.

Lily had different ideas, although she was fooling no one.

Angie kept one eye on the road and one eye on her friend, watching her chest rising and falling a little faster, her eyes fixing. She was zoning out, which she tended to do, as Angel had told her. It went either way when she became scared, she’d either panic, or go into shutdown mode, become catatonic while breathing like she was being chased by a predator.

She was. Three of them, always there in her mind.

“Lily?”

Nothing. At the next junction, she took a left rather than a right, heading back along the route that would return them to Santo Padre, scrapyard bound. The gates swung open a few moments after her arrival, EZ waving to her as she drove through, Angie parking up and getting out.

“Hey babe,” he greeted her with, kissing her cheek. “Did she panic?”

“A little, but she tried to downplay it. She’s gone into shutdown mode, though, so I thought it best to just bring her here, like Angel said I should.” she sighed, EZ putting his arm around her shoulders. “She pushing herself, trying too hard to be over it when in truth, she needs time. It’s still so fresh.”

Jodie had said similar to him the previous night after talking with Lily on the phone. “Yeah, I think you’re correct. I think she’s trying to run away from it and hope it doesn’t follow her, throw herself back into life. Well, I guess we have to show fairness, it isn’t like she’s going off the deep end, but I still think she’s trying to kid herself that she’s ready to begin trying to cope without my brother close by.”

Speaking of Angel, he appeared from around the corner, smiling thinly to see Angie. “I knew it’d be within the hour. Thanks for bringing her over. What was it, freak out of shutdown?”

“The latter,” she confirmed with a sigh, Angel nodding as he took off his work cloves and opened the passenger door, crouching down.

“Lily, hey baby. You okay?” he asked her softly, watching her suddenly stir with a little shudder, looking puzzled. He sighed, registering it. She’d zoned out so much, she didn’t even know where she was. She then turned to him, her face relieved, unclipping her belt and sinking into his arms. He picked her up, her legs winding around his waist, pausing to kiss Angie’s cheek and thank her again before carrying her over to the clubhouse.

“I’m sorry,” she muffled against his neck as he carried her in.

He placed her down on the couch, stroking her hair as he crouched at her feet. “What’s that word you’re not allowed to say, again? Remind me.”

Her smile was thin. God, the patience he had with her. He was amazing. “Sorry. And I’ll try not to say it, but I can’t help it, feeling like I’m a burden on you and disrupting your life.”

He was, as ever, quick to reassure her. “You ain’t burdening or disrupting shit. Circumstances leading to it aside, I’ve loved having you so close by. I just wish it was with my happy Lily, but I get that it’ll take a while for that to happen. You take all the time you need, and that includes not rushing yourself to get over it and get back to normal, alright?”

She sniffed, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just want to feel like me again, and I hate that I don’t! I’m so frightened all of the time!” For someone who prided themselves on being a fighter, being tough, it must have been so hard for her to feel like anything but. This was a woman who could take a grown man down with startling ease, after all.

He moved to sit beside her, pulling her into a hug. “It won’t always be like this, my little sweet pea,” he vowed, holding her in his arms, the warmth of his embrace as safe and comforting as ever. Whenever he held her, it always made her torment more bearable.

“No, it’ll be different. I’ll be different.” No, he wasn’t having that.

Taking her chin gently, he turned her head, kissing the tip of her nose. “If there’s one thing I know about Lily Georgina Armstrong, it’s that she’s a fighter. And I want you to know this, heed it, remember it always. You are not what happened to you, you hear me? I know that’s likely an easy thing to say, because it didn’t happen to me. You need to remember it, though.”

Her bottom lip quivered, Angel feeling his chest pull tightly. “What if I’m not strong enough to remind myself of that?”

“Then I’ll be strong enough for the both of us, and I’ll remind you, because I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, querida mia. I’ll get you through this.”

“You didn’t sign up for this,” she sighed, feeling guilty.

“Yes, I did.” He stopped, kissing her softly. “The moment I told you I loved you, I signed my name to it. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you so much,” she whispered, turning to kiss him. “Thank you for being wonderful.”

He smiled, kissing her again. “Mr Wonderful has to get back to work. You gonna be alright just hanging out here?” The clubhouse was empty, none of the guys in since in outlaw hours, it was still relatively early, Angel only there because it was his shift, which he’d agreed to do last minute and relieve Creeper from taking over his hours, thinking Lily would be otherwise engaged, but expecting she likely wouldn’t be for long. He hated that he was right.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll come put some gloves on and help you if I get panicky.”

He raised his eyebrow, shaking his head. “Not with broken ribs, you won't.” He kissed her head, leaving her, but not really wanting to. At least he had the comfort of knowing that if she did freak out, he’d be close by, be able to soothe her again. While he went back to moving tonnes of metal around, Lily sat curled up on the couch, reading on her phone, from a blog she’d found from a woman who had gone through almost the same trauma as her, except her gang rape had involved more people.

She’d been drugged while at a frat party, as many as eight different men taking it in turns to rape her. Chelsea Masterton had eventually dropped out of college over it, secluded herself, found it impossible to deal with the outside world, becoming a recluse for a long time. In reading her story, Lily knew she didn’t want that, and felt relieved that whereas Chelsea couldn’t be around men – even those she knew well and trusted – for a very long time after her ordeal, she herself still had trust in the ones who she knew. That was something to be thankful for, that her experience hadn’t damaged her to the extent where she couldn’t sit and hug Taza, or be okay giving Bishop a kiss in greeting, or find comfort in the embrace of her darling Angel.

It was just the idea of any other man out there that terrified her. How was she to know they weren’t a rapist, too? She might even come face to face with one of her attackers at some point in the future, and wouldn’t even know it was them. She felt as if people could see it in her now, that she was a victim of sexual violence, that it would make her a target for someone else to think that he could have his way with her, her faith in her own ability to protect herself utterly shattered.

Reading Chelsea’s reasoning into it made some sense to her.

‘The truth is, prior to my attack, and now in the aftermath of it, I could not and cannot see into the dark recesses of someone’s mind. I was, and am now, no more or less able to deter a rapist, just because I have encountered it. I could have at least seen, or conversed with any number of sexual predators before what happened to me, happened, and in the wake, I still could and be none the wiser. Not knowing cannot take over my life. Just as much as I tell myself, when in self-protection mode, that the UPS man who delivers to my office, or the boy who pours my morning latte could be rapists, I must instil the fact that they likely aren’t. My experience does not dictate that I judge everyone the same way, or moving forward is something I would never have been able to have done.’

Those words did strike a chord with Lily, although she knew it would take a while for that information to truly sink in. She then continued to read, about something quite specific that had been rolling around in her mind.

‘The first time I had sex after the event was a year and a half later, with a new man I’d been dating, the man who later went on to become my husband. Richard showed me unwavering patience after I revealed why I was hesitant to take the next step in our relationship and open myself up, literally, to something on a physical basis, and he was very understanding about it. I was lucky. That first time, I want to say it was wonderful, but it wasn’t to begin with, and Richard called time on it and told me it was okay for me not to be ready.

“It took more than just a few attempts for me to find my stride, of stop starting, of me weeping and feeling frightened. Though fundamentally the same, a penis being put into a vagina, sex and rape are of course poles apart, but somehow in my mind, I couldn’t disconnect from the trauma I felt at being penetrated without consent. I felt physically sick, like if I felt pleasure from it, I was somehow wrong for doing so. This ties in with the notion that I didn’t feel like my womanhood was truly mine any longer, or my sexual urges mine. I felt they belonged to the men who had violated me, like they had taken them from me when they’d left me upon that frat house couch.’

Oh, how heavily Lily identified with it, of feeling like her sexual organs were no longer hers.

‘I learned that by opening myself up to the idea of enjoyment through sex once more, I was reclaiming it, my pleasure, my body and myself. It wasn’t theirs any longer, and I was not wrong for feeling pleasure while enjoying the most natural act in the world.’

Again, she felt soothed to read how another woman’s thoughts so echoed her own, for the very idea of her resuming a sex life with Angel absolutely scared her to death. She knew the difference, too, very much so. She was very aware that when Angel was inside of her, fully consented to be there, it was with the intention of her arousal, of showing his love, of being connected with her in the closest way a man and a woman possibly could be in the physical sense. That is, if the mess she’d been left in hadn’t put him off for life.

She still couldn’t directly touch herself down there. Drying off after taking a pee or washing with a sponge were okay, but touching with her own hand, nope. He’d had to put her numbing cream on for her when she’d needed it, glad now that almost two weeks on, she was starting to heal to the point where she no longer required it. He’d said everything was beginning to look more normal, too, stitches aside. The swollen bruising had died down, he’d told her, which she could feel too in just how moving around and sitting in certain positions became easier. Internally, she was still sore, though.

And he had to see it up close. The poor guy. How, she wondered, after witnessing something that likely looked utterly grotesque, was he meant to see her sexually ever again? It had likely messed with his head, too, the fact that three other men had taken for themselves what should have always only been for him.

‘Girl, don’t be silly. You know he isn’t going to think that!’ she thought to herself. But, really? Would he? Could she count on that, or would he maybe begin to look elsewhere? Might he decide that he wanted the woman he was inside of to be undamaged?

Knowing she was spiralling, she got up and headed behind the bar, pouring herself a large measure of vodka, shrugging that it was only early, still. “Five o’ clock somewhere.” she muttered. It was needed, before she began to have something completely new to begin panicking over. Finding an abandoned packet of cigarettes there, and after rooting around a little, a lighter, she went back on the fact that she’d been tobacco free for the last three months and lit one up, going outside and sitting on the step.

One of the things she knew was making it worse in her moving forward after her attack was knowing that they were still out there, all three walking the streets without a care in the world. Because of them being masked, what the MC guys had to go on was scant at best, with absolutely no leads whatsoever. Secretly, she kicked herself for allowing them to take over, no matter how much she loved them and knew they would deal the correct punishment for a rapist to receive, rather than the shockingly light custodial sentences handed to men who put women through such trauma. If she’d gone to the police, if DNA evidence had been gathered, then likely, they might have already been in the system and thus been found.

She wouldn’t blame them for it, though, wanting to protect her themselves. She loved Angel and his brothers much too much. After all, they were the ones there for her now, in the wake of it all. As if summoning them with her thoughts, she looked up to see the gates open, revealing the bikes of Bishop, Gilly, Taza and Coco all coming in.

Taza’s smile made her feel lit up when he removed his helmet, the other guys greeting her before heading inside, him hanging back. He gestured to her drink. “Starting early?”

“I’ve had one panic this morning, so I’m trying to offset a second. Credit to me, though. This is actually the first time I’ve turned to alcohol since it happened.”

His face, softened, leaning to kiss her forehead before taking a seat behind her. “I wasn’t judging, Lilypad.”

“I know, I just...”

“You don’t have to explain a thing,” he assured her, Lily leaning back against his chest.

“I might have to if I’m drunk by lunchtime.” He laughed softly at that assertion, although he noticed that while she’d been the one to make the humorous statement, the actual humour of it didn’t quite reach her.

“So, panics aside, how are you today? It’s good to see you out, I wasn’t expecting to ride up and find you sitting here,” he asked, resting his chin atop her head.

“I’m... hmmm, still not great. I tried to go out with Angie earlier, but then panicked, zoned out and the next thing I knew, I was looking at Angel. Didn’t even know where I was. I think it’s something my brain does when the stress gets too much for me, just shuts me down, takes me into self-protection mode. I hate that I can’t function unless he’s close by, I feel like I’m burdening him, even though he keeps on stating to me quite emphatically that I’m not.”

“Well, he’s right there. That man would do anything for you, you know.”

She smiled a little, sipping her drink. “I know. He shouldn’t have to, though.”

Taza reaching into his pocket, pulling his cigarettes out and lighting one up. “Did you ever think that perhaps, you might be in a rush for normalcy?” She made a small noise of acknowledgement. “You’re probably not going to find a method to being okay with carrying on for a while, you know, and the more you fight against that, the harder it’s likely to be, I can imagine. It’s like having a complex job to do, say, I don’t know, repairing an old watch. If you rush through it, you’re likely to put it back together incorrectly, even leave little pieces out, or place them back so hastily that they aren’t secure and fall off. Then, what are you left with?”

She understood his analogy completely. “A watch that doesn’t work.”

He gripped her shoulder, standing up. “Exactly that. Or, to be very specific, a watch that doesn’t move forward, it just stays still, unticking.” Needing to get indoors and discuss club business, he left her there, thinking on his wise words. If there was one thing that she could always count upon from Taza, it was wisdom, insight from a perspective that she hadn’t looked at things from.

To truly mend, she had to go through it all piece by piece, slowly, not rush, or she’d never be able to move forward. He was absolutely right. It was just a pity that not everyone else saw it in the same way, her phone ringing a few moments later.

“Lily, it’s Carol. How are you feeling?” Her tone was emotionless, like she didn’t truly care. Lily suspected she likely didn’t, though.

“Not good, so if you’re calling to see when I’ll be back at work, I’m afraid I can’t give you a definitive answer.”

“Well, your sick leave entitlement will cover you, but I was asking on a personal level more than anything, to save me having to try and find cover for you while you’re out. I’d like to think we have that kind of relationship where you could see that perhaps this would be an issue for me.”

Seriously?

“Carol, I was robbed and beaten so badly I have fractures, and only in the last few days have I been able to open my right eye again properly. I think you could be a little more considerate of that.”

Carol took a long breath, her chair squeaking audible down the line as she leaned back in it. “And yet, you still have your phone.”

Lily was aghast. Yes, she was telling some half-truths to her boss, but it wasn’t like she didn’t have good reason for them. Carol, on the other hand, seemed like she was suspicious of there being any kind of attack at all. “I did what is advised by police officers if you’re being attacked for your possessions, throw the high value items away from you so the thieves go after them and leave you alone. They wanted my bag more than my iPhone, it seemed. Would you like for me to come down so you can see the state of my face and ribs? All the other bruises I have all over me too?”

“And you couldn’t fend them off? I thought you did MMA?”

Now she’d really gone too far. Lily knew why, too, she wasn’t stupid. She was goading her for an angry reaction, because apparently, having to file her sick pay and find someone else temporarily was too much effort for Carol. She shouldn’t have done it, Lily did know better to rise to someone’s bullshit, but in this instance, if Carol was even the type of woman to resort to it in the first place, then she was not the kind of person Lily wanted to remain in the employment of.

“I know what you’re doing, trying to push me out by being mean, so don’t think I don’t see it. You’re not that clever, Carol, that’s why at fifty years old, the best you can amount your life to is managing a coffee house. Take your job, and stick it up you rotten, bony asshole. I quit.”

Ending the call, she finished her drink, sighing, getting up and going inside, ready to pour another one, muttering under her breath. When Angel stepped in for a break half an hour later, he could barely believe his ears.

“She fucking said what?” Of course, Lily knew he’d blow up. “See? I was right, El fucking Cupacabra! I hope you told her where she could stick it.”

“I did, right up her bony, rotten asshole.”

He beamed, kissing her. “I’m proud of you.”

She snorted softly. “Well, in hindsight, you perhaps shouldn’t be because I did it with no job to walk into and no security over where my next pay check is coming from!”

He made a dismissive face, stroking her forearm. “I make enough bank to cover us both for a while, you ain’t gotta worry about a thing.”

This statement, as grateful as she was for him being so supportive, didn’t sit well with her. “But you shouldn’t have to, baby.”

“Enough of telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I want to, alright?” he enforced, grabbing her hand and kissing it. “You’ve got enough to worry about right now, you don’t need anything extra.” He felt his temper prickled a little bit, but shoved it right back down within, knowing that he needed to show a little maturity. If there was one good thing to come from something so horrific happening to Lily, it was that Angel knew it was forcing him to not think of himself first, for once, or give way to the kind of emotional outbursts that he was prone to.

He would grow as a person, because he had no choice but to. He wouldn’t allow himself a second of selfishness if it came at the expense of someone he was so incredibly, head over heels in love with. Not when she needed him, even though she felt uncomfortable with how much she was leaning on him.

As it turned out, though, a solution presented itself there...

“I couldn’t help but overhear about your story regarding that bitch at the coffee house,” Bishop began, taking a seat beside them. “Tell me, are you any good with numbers and computers?”

“I’m fairly proficient, why?”

“Well, since Chucky left, the bookwork for this place has been an extra headache that I really don’t need. It’s an easy enough job to do, you basically just input the figures from purchase and sales invoices into an online program and run the payroll monthly, but like I say, I could do without it. It also means you get to earn a living while knowing that Angel is nearby, but once you’re feeling more like your old self, far away from when you’re fed up of the sight of him, so long term it could work well, too. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to bring the crazy bird I’ve heard so much about with you, set up a perch for him in the office. It means you can get to coping with being around people again, people who aren’t us, and feel comfortable enough, because of you being right here in a safe space.”

His proposal was something she definitely could see the merit in, that was for certain. It would mean she could take slow steps in dealing with the general public again, earn, and be near to Angel. Getting to bring Charlie to work with her, too? The eternal dream.

“The software is easy enough to use, I’ll show you what to do but if you’re in any doubt, they have a helpline and a tonne of stuff online for references,” he further continued, Lily looking at Angel.

“Don’t look at me, it’s your choice, mamacita.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Thank you.” Standing up, she gave him a hug, thankful that such an opportunity had presented itself to her. After what she’d been through, it was about time the universe threw her something good.

She didn’t begin right away, still not feeling a hundred percent about being out of the house, also needing her rest while her injuries healed, but after another three weeks, she felt ready to begin dealing with being back in the world. It wasn’t a very busy job either, merely overseeing people bringing scrap metal in to be weighed and offering them the current cost denoted by the price for steel, iron, brass and copper, entering the sales into the software like she’d been shown and calling for the guys to come and unload vans and trucks. All with Charlie sitting on her shoulder.

One such morning while she was driving in (she began her day much earlier than most of the guys, so on the days Angel wasn’t in early, drove herself) Charlie sitting on her shoulder since he’d pitched a fit about the carry bag, she called ahead, hoping someone would be there to answer.

“Romero Brothers.”

“Hey Riz, it’s me. I’m fucking stuck in a huge tailback, no idea when I’ll be in. I’ll turn off when I get to Greenland Avenue, though, when I finally get to it, come round the back way. It’s just gridlocked on my route,” she explained, sitting there in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“Yeah, no worries, Lily. Did you hear what happened?”

“Nope, I assumed a road traffic accident?”

“Nah, some kid hung himself from the bridge just after the junction. The police only recovered the body a half hour ago. It’s all over the news already.”

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, Charlie beginning to squawk and dance in response to her slight shout.

“Yeah, ain’t good. Anyway, see you when you get here.” She quickly sent Angel a message telling him to avoid the usual route, the cars beginning to slowly continuing to crawl along towards the divert before the road block, Lily managing to duck out around and take a left onto Greenland when the way was clear.

Lily’s message to him was what woke Angel, reaching for his phone and reading it. “Fuck.” he grunted, throwing the covers off and getting up, strolling out to the kitchen to find she’d left the coffee pot on for him, smiling at the little post-It note stuck to it, a heart with the words ‘Love you more than you love coffee!’ written on it. She was getting there, now just over a month after her attack. She still wasn’t a hundred percent, but he was starting to see more of the Lily he knew and loved returning.

While smoking his first cigarette of the day and drinking that coffee, he looked through his phone for more on the story over the kid hanging himself, seeing that the official sources didn’t have much, but the comment sections beneath them were going wild, the kid local, a lot of his friends chiming in, one whom provided information that once viewed, made the cogs in Angel’s brain fire into life.

The kid, a nineteen-year-old wannabe gang banger by the name of Kurt Wiseman, had left a suicide note, upon his Instagram page.

‘I wasn’t a good guy. People thought I was, but I wasn’t, man. I did bad things, ran with people I shouldn’t have, let addiction and bad influences pull me away from who I was capable of being. Mom, Tobi, Chad, Hannah, aunt Kim, grandma, gramps, uncle Joe, aunt Helen, uncle Keith, I’m so sorry. I know you all wanted the best for me, tried your hardest to get me back on the straight and narrow, and I didn’t listen to any of it.

“I became who you all feared I would. A crack addict, a criminal, someone who has lied and stole, ran schemes, fucked up people’s lives. I’ve shot people, one fatally, and become a person so low, he even went along with being paid to beat and rape an innocent woman. In light of my misdeeds, don’t mourn me. Just throw me in a box and burn me, because if I can take and ruin lives, then I ain’t worth being sad over. I ain’t. I always knew I was nothing, and nothing is what I died as. I love you all. You’ll do much better without me bringing shame on the family any longer.’

Paid to rape a woman. Of course, his mind went right back to the scant information he knew about Lily’s attack. This kid was remorseful, and one of her attackers had been reluctant. Bishop wondering if it was gang related, and this kid being a wannabe banger. Clicking the back button, Angel looked through the rest of his Instagram, not seeing a particular wealth of info, but recognising the gang sign the kid was holding up with his hands. He was affiliated with the 3OD’s, a gang that had ties throughout Southern Cali, Santo Padre in particular, although because of the MC, they did tend to keep things on the down low. They were, at best, a baby gang, nothing particularly notable, more a group of young guys who ran small street hustle enterprises, moving small quantities of weed, pills and cocaine, well out of the radar of the club or the cartel.

And there it finally was. A link to finding the two who remained alive. He just had to try and see if any pictures of videos of this kid would jog anything in Lily’s memory, a task he set to rapidly, knowing that sometimes authorities did take down accounts of people who were known to have criminal activity in the wake of their death, washing and dressing at speed before heading out and roaring away on his bike.

With everything he had in him, he needed to find those other two men.

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hiddlesbummmm · 2 years

Text

Well hey guys! Here’s my most recent fic! This is a curveball for sure, but I recently started obsessing over The Umbrella Academy and decided to write a fic! This idea came to my head randomly, so I figured I should write about it.

I’m undecided if I will take requests for TUA in the near future, but if y’all like this one, I will consider it for sure 💕😊 Please enjoy!

✨Please note I am only in season 2, so please don’t try to spoil anything past that ✨

⚠️Minor spoilers for season 1/early season 2 ahead!⚠️

Warnings: Minor spoilers for season 1/2, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, brief violence, lots of tickles. Ignore the timeline of the show because I know I’m wayyyy off 😂

Words: 3284 Lee Diego X Ler Klaus (Ben and Five make appearances)

Sobriety Brothers

Ever since he was ripped away from Dave, Klaus struggled with alcohol and drug abuse.

Okay. That was kinda a lie.

Klaus had almost always struggled with his addictions, but it definitely got worse since his lover was killed. But who could blame him?

Klaus’s head was always filled with the moans and groans of the dead, and the numbing of drugs and alcohol seemed to be one of the few things that gave him some peace and quiet.

Klaus knew Ben disagreed with him, and so did most of his family. Ben told Klaus he needed to learn how to block the voices on his own without poisoning his body. Although Ben was probably his closest friend, Klaus secretly enjoyed being able to block him out while passed out drunk in the bathtub.

It wasn’t until Klaus had been robbed for the 3rd time that week that he decided he needed help.

Klaus had woken up in nothing but his underwear with a black eye and nearly broken nose in the back of some sketchy alleyway. Klaus had no clue how he ended up here, but thankfully Ben was able to fill in the gaps.

Klaus typically was not embarrassed to be without clothing (hence the crop tops and holey pants) but for some reason, he was absolutely terrified of facing his family this time.

Sneaking in through the back door, Klaus made his way through the house to find Grace. She confirmed that nothing was broken and gave him an ice pack for his injuries.

A few days later, once Klaus was able to conceal most of the bruising with concealer, he decided to confide in one of his siblings for help. And frankly, the only one he trusted with these types of situations.

As much as he loved and cared for his other siblings, none of them could help as much as Diego could.

Vanya was always timid and strayed away from the bunch. Klaus now realized this was mostly Dad’s fault, but as a child, he had no clue. Vanya was very thoughtful and cared for him recently, but Klaus never wanted to dump his problems into her lap. She was far too kind to need that much emotional baggage.

Luther was number one and very much acted as such. He was a goody two shoes, always wanting to prove he was a leader. Klaus never felt like he could bring problems to him either because instead of getting a hug, he would probably get a lecture.

Allison was by far a close second. She was also kind and thoughtful, but also very distracted with her current life. Especially now with the apocalypse threatening the world and her daughter.

One time, later in their adult life, Klaus had asked Allison to Rumor away his addictions (and get him more money, but that was beside the point). Allison refused and told Klaus he needed to deal with it on his own. Rumoring only made things worse. She also threatened to kick his ass if he asked her again.

And then there was Five. That little bastard. Even as kids, Five was a grumpy, sarcastic, know it all. Five was hard for Klaus to talk to sometimes because most of the things he said made no sense. (looking back, that was probably intentional). Five also probably had an alcohol problem, but Five would never admit it.

Diego seemed to be the best help. In the past, Klaus has asked Diego to tie him up and let him fight the withdrawal symptoms that way. Klaus shivered at the thought of doing that again.

The way Diego reacted to his strange requests was the reason why Klaus trusted in him. There was no shame, no mocking or sassy remarks. Diego just simply grabbed his rope and told Klaus to lead the way.

Before Klaus left his room to search for his brother, he was halted by a grunting sound.

“Something you would like to say Benny Boy?” Klaus drawled out with a smirk.

Ben rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“Are you really that dense Klaus? I told you those drugs do nothing but poison your mind”.

Klaus put a hand over his heart and fluttered his eyes.

“Brother, you wound me deeply. I am not dense. What gives with the ‘tude?”

“Seriously. You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what!?”

“Diego is in just as much need of help as you are. Instead of going to him for help, I think you should help each other.”

Klaus crossed his arms while he pondered this information.

Ben muttered some insult under his breath and walked over to Klaus.

“Oh shit. I am an asshole, Ben”

Ben nodded and gestured for him to continue.

“He has been a lot more testy and impatient ever since he lost Eudora. Cha-cha and Hazel haven’t helped much either.”

Ben let out a sign.

“You’ve been too drunk or high to notice the full picture, but yeah that’s it. You aren’t the only one with an alcohol problem.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow.

“Diego has been drinking himself silly these past few days. While you have been mourning the loss of Dave, he’s been mourning the loss of Eudora. I know how much you trust Diego, and I’m pretty sure he trusts you too. Being tied up helps you detox, but that won’t work for him”.

Klaus nodded in agreement. Losing Dave was absolutely horrible. And he knew exactly how Diego felt. Especially when her killers were out and about also hunting for Five.

“Okay, Benny. Have any ideas on how to help us both?”

Ben smirked.

“A competition”

Anyone who knew Diego knew just how competitive that man was. He was bad as a child and only got worse as an adult.

As kids, he always made sure he was the first one awake, the first one to meals, and definitely the first to train. If he successfully pinned you, you never heard the end of it.

Klaus on the other hand was way too free-spirited to be overly competitive. He was mostly a peacekeeper and didn’t try to get involved in heated arguments. But Klaus was also knowingly and purposely annoying. He enjoyed pestering his siblings and making them feel crazy. Whenever Diego was standing on his soap box, Klaus made sure to knock him off of it, even if it caused Diego to fall on top of him.

Taking a swig of the closest alcohol to him, (he wasn’t ready to start sobriety just yet)

Klaus went in search of Diego.

****

Diego was miserable. He had a throbbing headache, a sliced finger, and a broken heart. Although he and Patch didn’t end on great terms, he still felt responsible for not protecting her well enough. He had loved her, and now she was gone without him being able to make things right between them.

Diego knew he probably needed to watch his alcohol intake, but he just didn’t care at the moment. The alcohol helped fuel his anger as he plotted his revenge on cha-cha and Hazel.

Just as Diego was about to get up and use the bathroom, he heard shuffling outside his door.

Diego grabbed a knife, poised and ready to fling it at any time.

“Diego, I know you have a knife. It’s just me, your buddy Klaus!”

Diego instantly relaxed and opened the door.

Klaus was in his usual attire; a crop top ripped jeans, and barefoot. Diego noticed the bruising around his eye and nose but decided to not question him about it yet.

“Oh, brother! I missed you! Care to chat?”

Diego rolled his eyes.

“Klaus, I saw you just the other day when you snuck in through the back door. One night stand go wrong?” He teased.

Uncharacteristically though, Klaus didn’t chuckle. Stoic as can be he answered.

“Oh um, no. Robbed actually. For the third time. Assholes took my favorite shirt. Not that it matters because I stole it from a st-“

Diego cut Klaus off.

“You were robbed three times this week and this is the first you bring it up? What the hell Klaus! I can help protect you ya know.”

Klaus shrugged.

“I figured with the apocalypse it doesn’t really matter because we’re probably all gonna die anyway.” Klaus moved to sit on Diego’s bed, crossing one leg over the other.

Diego still processing all that had been said sat at his desk.

“So anyway. Enough about me. I want to talk about you bro.”

Diego looked up and made eye contact with Klaus.

“Me? What about me?”

“Oh don’t be so dense!” Klaus looked over across the room.

“Did I use that term correctly Ben?”

Diego glared at Klaus.

“Klaus, watch it, or else I won’t hesitate to give you another black eye. I can’t hit Ben remember.”

Klaus gulped and then flipped off the space in front of the closet. Diego really wished he could hear Ben sometimes.

“Anyway, as I was saying brother. You and I are more similar than you think. I drink alcohol because I miss Dave and you drink alcohol because you miss Eudora”.

Diego flinched at the mention of her name but didn’t say anything as Klaus continued.

“What I’m trying to say, is I think we need to help sober each other up. What do ya think? Bros before hoes right?”

Diego put down the knife he was fidgeting with. Klaus had a good point. He knew Klaus struggled with addiction issues, but never once considered the fact that his coping methods weren’t exactly kosher either.

More importantly, he knew deep down he wouldn’t be able to fight cha cha and hazel drunk.

“Okay, Klaus. Yes, I may be drinking too much. And no, I will not allow you to tie me up to potentially fulfill any of your kinky fantasies.”

“Silly Diego! You are not in any of my fantasies. Ben suggested we have a competition of sorts. The first one to cave and drink has to do whatever the winner wants as punishment. Buy dinner, tidy up the house, prank Five, yadda yadda yadda.”

Diego contemplated this for a sec. Klaus was way more unhinged than he was. How hard could it be? Besides, knowing Klaus he probably wouldn’t last an hour.

“Okay, man. I’m in. But after I win, just know that I am definitely tying you up because you will need a serious detox.”

Klaus chuckled and rose from the bed.

“It is on pretty boy”

Diego flicked Klaus on the nose and the two of them prepared for a couple of rough days.

*****

Diego was actually shocked that Klaus had lasted through the night. The two brothers had emptied their rooms of all alcohol to ensure neither one was drinking during the night. Pogo offered to be a neutral viewer and watch over the bar.

The other siblings had an inkling that something was going on between the pair, mostly because their emotions and attitudes were much shorter and meaner than usual. But no one knew the details. (Besides Ben of course).

The night was harder than Diego imagined. He had only been drinking for a few days, but being cut off sucked. His headache didn’t go away, and he was very irritable. Worst of all, he really wanted a drink. But his pride wouldn’t allow him to lose. Not yet anyway.

Klaus on the other hand had done something he never thought he would do willingly. Knowing he was unable to control himself, he had bribed Five with a couple of bags of marshmallows to lock him in the mausoleum for the night.

If Five was worried, he didn’t act like it. He just took the marshmallows, locked the doors, and didn’t look back.

Klaus soon regretted this decision, but having Ben with him this time, made it much more bearable. Ben keep reminding him that the soberer he became, the more likely he was to see Dave again.

Klaus held onto that feeling of hope, although he did feel slightly guilty that Diego didn’t have that option.

****

The two competitors met each other in the kitchen for breakfast. Both were worse for the wear. Not much was exchanged between the two, but just enough to know neither had cracked yet.

Klaus left the kitchen first, deciding he needed a bath. Diego followed soon after and decided to clean his room.

Diego was always one who typically kept his room clean, but after not living at the house for a while, he realized he had some childhood stuff to go through.

It took him a good portion of the day to sort through boxes and throw some stuff away. As Diego was rummaging through one of his drawers, he stumbled across something unexpected.

A flask.

Diego looked around to make sure no one was watching and sniffed it. Of course, it was full. He forgot that he had hidden it here after Dad's funeral. Deciding it was best to dump it, Diego emptied the contents down the sink and put the flask in his pocket.

****

When evening came again, it was just Klaus and Diego. Both sitting on the couch watching a rom-com. Both were still a little on edge, but at least the headaches and sweating had gone away.

Neither knew where the others were, but neither really cared either. Diego had made a bowl of popcorn and Klaus made each of them virgin strawberry daiquiris.

When the move was close to the end, Klaus reached for the remote and accidentally knocked over his glass. Thankfully it was empty, but it made a loud clang noise as it hit the table.

Klaus quickly apologized and glanced over at Diego who had jumped in his seat.

That’s when Klaus noticed something shiny sticking part way out of Diego’s pocket. It didn’t take a genius to know what it was.

“Diego! I can’t believe you! And during our movie night nonetheless!” Klaus patronized.

Klaus immediately dove across the couch and tried reaching for Diego’s pocket. Diego, who was a little slow to react, leaned back just as Klaus lunged. Instead of Klaus’s fingers hitting the flask, his aim was higher and poked Diego right in the ribcage. Diego let out a loud squeak and quickly cowered.

Both remained motionless for a few seconds while trying to figure out what the hell happened.

Klaus’s mouth formed into a smile. Not just a normal smile, but a mischievous one.

“I agree Ben. I also forgot about Diego’s sensitivities. Only fair to take advantage, especially with a cheater in our grasp.”

Diego panicked in his bout of confusion and tried to scramble away. Tickling always rendered Diego useless and once Klaus was going, it was hard to stop him.

“I-I don’t know wha-what your talking about Klaus! I-I didn’t cheat!”

Klaus tsked at his brother.

“First you cheated, and now you lie straight to my face? As the winner of our competition, I sentence you to a bout a tickles to pay for your crime. That will help you detox!”

Diego, now more confused than ever, attempted to roll off the couch and run away from Klaus to no avail. Klaus had the advantage as he quickly pinned Diego by landing on his back in his attempt to roll over. Klaus wasted no time digging his nimble fingers back into Diego’s ribcage to render him useless.

Diego started giggling maniacally and attempted to curl into a ball. Diego’s laughter was music to Klaus’s ears as he continued with his attack. Testing the waters, Klaus slid his fingers between the couch and Diego’s belly. He quickly started pinching the newfound flesh and giggled out-loud at the new string of insults and squeals he elicited from his brother.

Diego looked so adorable with his eyes wrinkled and a light coloring on his cheeks. His smile was genuine even though the laughter was forced. Klaus knew they were both enjoying this wonderful distraction, even if neither would admit it.

Diego snorted when Klaus “accidentally” dipped his finger into his belly button.

Klaus glanced behind the couch at seemingly nothing while he continued to tear Diego apart.

“Oh, that’s right! His belly button is another sensitive spot. Thanks for the reminder Ben!”

With this, Klaus wasted no time in working his fingers into Diego’s soft belly again, while also using his other hand to continue on his ribs. Diego never failed to snort each time that evil finger wormed into his navel. With Klaus squishing his back, Diego wasn’t able to arch his back away from the ticklish torture.

“Kl-Klaus! No! Hahaha, stop it! Whahahat the hell man!”

Diego was embarrassed at how quickly he caved. As children, it was no secret that Diego was by far the most sensitive. Tickle fights were not a super common occurrence, but were very entertaining when they did happen. And Diego was one of his family's favorite victim. Whether it be the loud laughter they always extracted from him or just how easy it was to get him giggling, his siblings loved to mess with him. Ben was the typical instigator, which is probably why he was feeding Klaus all his sensitive spots.

Bastard.

“Do you regret it now Diego?? Don’t you know alcohol is bad for you!” Klaus teased as he was now alternating between strumming his ribs and pinching his sides.

Not only was Diego giggling like a madman, but he was also confused as hell.

“KLAUS WHAHAT DO YOU MEAHEHEN!” Diego screeched out.

Klaus decided to give Diego a breather and switched to lightly tracing his nails against his ears and neck, just to keep him giggling but not enough to kill him.

“Diego, you really are dense! I saw that flask you are hiding in your pocket. So did Ben. He’s nodding in agreement I swear on my life.”

Then it clicked. The flask. Of course, Klaus had spotted it! And of course, he had no clue he had dumped the contents.

“Klaus! I dumped it! Swear to God!! Please just stop!“

Klaus immediately ceased after hearing the serious tone in his brother's voice. After his giggling and laughter had died down, Diego explained everything.

“Oh wow. I’m sorry Diego. I saw the flask and just assumed. I’m proud of you for dumping it, I know I wouldn’t have. Looks like the competition is still on then!”

Diego sat up from his seat.

“You know Klaus? I think I’d like to challenge you to a new competition.”

Klaus tilted his head, waiting for his brother to continue.

“How much you wanna bet that I also remember all of your sensitive spots?”

Klaus didn’t even have time to scramble away before Diego pounced. The room was soon filled with more shrieking and giggling as Diego took his time getting sweet sweet revenge.

The two knew they would have to face reality eventually, but why not do it with clear heads and smiles plastered to their faces?

Eternal sobriety was never going to happen, but knowing that they could overcome the temptation of over drinking was a huge accomplishment in itself. Especially knowing that neither had to fight that battle alone.

****

Hours later when Five finally arrived back at the mansion, he stumbled across the two brothers sleeping on the couch: Klaus’s head in Diego’s lap and Diego’s upper body draped over Klaus’s midsection.

Five just chuckled to himself and draped a blanket over the two of them. If ever questioned, he would swear on his life that he didn’t do it.

Unbeknownst to him, Ben was watching the whole thing, and would definitely be telling Klaus.

#the umbrella academy tickles #tua tickle fic #Lee Diego #switch tickles #tickle fanfiction #tickle fic #First TUA fic #tua fandom #TUA tickle fan fiction #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #sfw tickles #fluffy tickles #Ler!klaus #Lee!diego #hiddlesbummmm fics

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silver-wield · 2 years

Note

Story time! I legitimately liked Clerith at one point. A LOT. I played the original game back in the day and I wanted to join the Clerith community. I did so on Discord and nearly instantly was put off by several things within the community, but I pushed it down and told myself I was overreacting. First, it was small things - like how they loathed Team Four Stars' parody videos because of how they treated Aerith. (1)

when in reality all of the characters were given shitty attitudes and backstories because ya'know it was a parody! It felt hyper-sensitive to me for no reason, so I kept it to myself that I loved the video series and went on. Next was how they hated Tifa and willfully misinterpreted canon and characters. Believe it or not I genuinely like Tifa - she's complex and has beauty and brains and brawn so I don't see anything to dislike. But I couldn't exactly say that to them, and any suggestion (2)

that Tifa was a good character got major pushback. I shut up. What really pushed me over the edge was one user I can't recall the name of so I won't guess, but she was a bigwig. I wanted to join a specific part of the Discord. It was advertised as "debate friendly" so I thought - okay finally here is my shot at speaking my mind while not being dog piled. I asked to join and she said basically she had to verify I was a real person so she needed my real Facebook. (3)

A little creepy, and a little odd I thought since I had been in the group for over a month and had caused no trouble (I learned quickly what was and was not okay to say) but I gave it to her anyway. Keep in mind I was a minor at the time. She came back to me and said "You look like my relative." This tells me she was snooping on my page since at the time my profile picture was actually my cat and any pictures of myself were buried some ways back. (4)

About an hour later she told me she denied my request to join because she saw where I had posted Tifa fanart months ago, and since my Facebook was only two years old (again, I was a minor and had only been allowed to get FB roughly two years prior to this) that she was convinced I was a troll. Insert youvegottobekiddingme. png here. I told her she was paranoid to which she went off on a paragraphs-long spiel about how the Clerith community has been prosecuted by Clotis for ages. (nearly done)

I eventually got tired and blocked her and removed myself from the group. Because of that, and another encounter I had much later (in which my sexual identity was mocked) and an encounter a friend of mine had in which she was goaded into crying over her dead husband when she dared suggest that even if Cloud did love Aerith it's cruel to want him to stay single and mourning for the rest of his life, I have thoroughly decided I cannot stand Cleriths. They made me dislike Aerith. (fin)

Sorry for the late reply, anon. I wasn't ignoring it 😅

Tbf I don't like Machinabridged either, but my response is to just ignore it exists. I don't think I've even watched the whole thing. I've never gone off at the team behind it, but then I rarely give a shit because whenever I do I get slammed by tons of people. So, always remember to never express an opinion that differs from the masses, but if you do express it don't expect anyone to be on your side even if they claimed to be your friends.

Yeah, asking for personal info is a huge red flag for me. Nobody needs to know that unless they have plans to use it against you later. That's why I never give out personal info to people. Cleriths generally use it to make sure people don't stray from their hard-line hating. "If you like Tifa, we'll tell the fandom who you really are" kinda shit mentality.

Honestly, it sounds like you were in the cult's discord. Those are things I've heard them do to people. They're legit terrifying en masse. I mean, most large groups are, especially when one person weaponises them against a single person. Fandom and social media shouldn't be a numbers game that people then utilise to push down those with lower numbers than them, but that's what it is.

What's funny is their behaviour makes people dislike Aerith, so you'd think they'd care about how they come across. But then again, they don't even like her, she's just a straw doll they shove in front of them so they can throw shit at people from behind her and then say she's the reason for their actions.

#ship war #for the fandom

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nightmare-foundation · 1 year

Text

I keep seeing and impulsively checking the blog of an old fairly toxic friend of mine n I just.

Man. Why do YOU have to be doing well. Why am I the only one who looks back and ends up feeling awful.

Not that I want him to suffer. It's better he doesn't. But like,, I'm always the one on the chopping block between the two of us. It's been 4 YEARS and one month since we've completely ceased contact. Yet my dumb ass STILL can't not think abt him at random

Like,, I'm sure I wasn't completely innocent. I was a really weird 13 year old who never had a genuine friend before, not to mention my mental illness and trauma I had yet to uncover. Yet the only person who never communicated nor seemed to care about our friendship was him. I could be pushy at times, yeah, but I always backed down if told no and whatnot.

Not only that, but I'm still annoyed that he straight up LIED about me and what I was like. One of his (ADULT) friends had contacted me in late 2018, claiming I was, and I quote, "manipulative, misgendered him, and used him as an emotional dump truck". I was 13 years old, and my only friend besides one other person had blocked me for no reason.

Literally for that WHOLE month, I was terrified. I had panic attacks and was anxious as hell. And I'll admit I was a little dependent on him, but I was still fucked from that experience.

Once we started talking again and boundaries set up. He SORT of apologized, but always insisted he was an awful friend, so I ended up having to comfort him instead. I always made excuses and everything for him, convinced that I was awful. And literally like,, there was no effort put in from his side after that. Aaaand then April 2019, I was suddenly messaged and blocked, and that was the last time we talked.

I was hurt obv but like. After that. I kept on being targeted by his adult friends (we were both 14, the friends were at LEAST 23+). Deadass I still don't know what the hell was said abt me but I KNOW it wasn't good. Bc before I knew it I had someone call me a pathetic bitch while I was having a panic attack over feeling guilty for shit I didn't do, then I was banned from like 3 system servers for "interacting inappropriately with a minor". Cue me literally being 14 at the time, a csa survivor, with no evidence even when I asked repeatedly for it, with literally no access to anyone younger than me bc of discords TOS.

The stress from that LITERALLY made us split several times and caused us to switch hosts. Sammy, the alter who was host at the time, is likely STILL dormant. All of that happened in practically the same year.

I'm still fucking baffled by it, angry, and hurt. It's been 4 damn years and I'm 90% sure he doesn't even remember us now.

Like,, christ I still can't interact with the undertale fandom for long bc it makes me remember him. I can't even look at art styles resembling his bc it makes me sick! I am TERRIFIED of venting bc I'm scared someone will lash out at me or accuse me of dumping all of my trauma on them. I'm scared I'm doing something wrong without knowing it and that tomorrow I'll wake up to having no friends bc they all blocked me.

Hell, I have issues trusting people who use the same name as him! I avoid a whole GROUP of people because I'm terrified they'll recognize me and start drama with false claims. Anyone who may have been so much as NEAR him I can't completely interact with besides a couple reblogs here and there.

And like,, I'm sure he's doing completely fine. That he's entirely unaware of the damage he caused. And, yeah, good for him, he's not suffering like I am. But also,, I'm painfully envious. I wish I was left pain free.

It's so stupid. It was 4 years ago. I really need to get over it.

#ramsey (host)#vent #vent post #66 tag #that doesnt make sense to yall but im making a private tag #specifically for me venting abt him #just. sighs loudly

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xsage-writingx · 2 years

Text

Breaking the Rules Chapter 8

Summary: Beck is new to Hawkins High for her senior year. She is no stranger to being the new kid but when she bumped into Eddie Munson all her rules are thrown out the window and she finds herself falling for the school freak. Everything about him draws her in. Though Hawkins has its own chaos Beck will find herself in danger with the new friends that she is making. But will her actions be enough to keep everyone that she has come to love safe?

Author’s Note: I know I say this on all of my posts but people don't seem to listen and I've ended up blocking people already. So, I guess I'll say it again, I will am checking bio's, for everyone's safety. If I don't see anything that is noting that you are over 18 years old, I will have to block you. I know some chapters are tame but just to be safe I need to do this.

Once again, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult language

** I do not condone the copying and reposting of my work. If I find that it is being done I will delete everything and cease writing.**

---------------------------------------------------------------------

A warm glow shone against my eyelids. I moved my hands over my eyes and groaned into the morning light. I turned and tucked my face into the blankets. The heady smell of Eddie flowed through my awakening senses. I reached out a hand and gently tapped his warm skin. I peeked an eye open and found my hand rested on his chest.

My eyes trailed up his chest, followed the column of his neck, skated around the curve of his jawline, then, finally, found his eyes. Eyes that stared into my own. He reached up a hand and tucked some hair behind my ear as a lazy smile tugged across his face. Then he said, “Good morning, sweetheart.”

A sleepy smile wove across my lips and I splayed my hand over his heart. “Good morning, handsome,” I said.

He hummed and pulled me closer, then said, “I could get used to this. Walking up with you beside me.” I giggled and tucked my face into his chest. “I can keep you forever and never have to share you with anyone.”

“What are you, a dragon?” I hugged my arm around his torso, I didn’t let an inch of space between us.

“So, what if I am,” he said as he wrapped his arm around me and held my head to his chest.

I mumbled into his skin, “so terrifying.” I curled into his warmth and let my mind wonder. My fingers traced pictures on his back as he twirled the ends of my hair. I thought back to the previous night, how Eddie took me to the edge and guided me into the abyss of pure bliss. I felt myself smile as my stomach fluttered at the memory.

“What are you smiling about?” He gently tugged the piece of hair that he was spinning in his fingers.

“I was just thinking about last night,” I looked up to him, “About you.” The smile that shone down on me was nothing short of miraculous. It dulled even the sun. Before I could comprehend, his arms tightened around me and his lips were kissing my hair, then my face and moved towards my lips.

“Oh Eddie, no,” I said through giggles. “I have morning breath and you’ll think it’s disgusting.”

“Fuck that,” he said and took my face in his hands. “I will never think you’re disgusting.” Then he was kissing me. It was gentle and innocent. He didn’t tease the seam of my lips with his tongue, or scrape his teeth against my bottom lip.

There were knocks at the door and from the other side of the thin wood Gareth said in a pained moan, “Alright, love birds, we’re out of here.”

Eddie groaned and flopped his head back to the pillow. “You guys could have left and not said goodbye. I think we trust you to see yourselves out.”

“Oh, it was less for us and more for Wayne.” Eddie froze. “He just pulled up and is coming inside right…” Gareth drew out the word, “now.” As Gareth finished his statement the door creaked open.

“Hey there, boys,” a gravelly voice sounded from the main area of the trailer. “What, is he still sleeping in there?” Heavy steps began to make their way down the hall.

“Hey Mr. Munson. He’s still in there but not asleep,” Gareth said, and I could hear the grin that was lacing his words.

Eddie groaned and said, “Well, why don’t you take a second and it looks like you’re about to meet my uncle.” Eddie placed one last kiss to my lips then was hopping up from bed. I watched as he spun in his room to try and find something to throw on. I giggled while he looked around in his boxers and had to throw a hand over my lips when he turned to me with a playful glare.

From the other side of the door there was a muffled, “Was that a girl’s laugh?” There were a chorus of resounding ‘mhm’s from the boys.

Eddie finally pulled on a pair of sweatpants and tumbled out of the door, and quickly closed it behind him. I sat up in bed and stretched my arms over my head. I looked around the room and tried to find where my clothes ended up.

I was able to find my jeans at the foot of the bed but my shirt was lost in the chaos of the room. I shrugged and went over to a drawer that had a few t-shirts hanging from it. I pulled the one on top and found a well-worn and soft Black Sabbath shirt. I quickly pulled it on and in the mirror brushed through my hair with my fingers.

I swiped the little smudge of mascara that was under my eyes, and pinched my cheeks in hopes of bringing some life to them. Once I was ok with my appearance I walked over to the bedside table and grabbed the glass of water from the night before. I drank it all in hopes that it would dilute the morning breath I knew I was sporting.

From the other side of the door there was quiet conversation and I heard Eddie say, “Should I go check on her? Do we have tea? She normally drinks tea in the morning.”

“Relax, boy,” the voice of Wayne said, “and no, we don’t have tea.”

I chuckled and made my way down the hall to see our three friends sitting around the living room, head in their hands, nursing hangovers, and Eddie stood in the kitchen with an older man. Eddie’s gaze whipped towards me, his eyes were wide and he was wringing his fingers. I smiled and walked over to them. I held out a hand and said, “Hello, I’m Beck Harding. I’m so sorry we had to have met under these circumstances. I would have rather brought over banana bread or something.”

A warm smile tugged at his face, which made his grey eyes crinkle. He took my hand in his and said, “Wayne, and it’s a pleasure to meet the girl that has smitten my nephew.” I looked over to Eddie with raised brows and his face bloomed under a deep blush.

From the living room, the three boys began laughing at Eddie’s blush. Then each cradled their heads again and Matty heaved slightly, covered his mouth and ran out the front door. I tilted my head dramatically and said, “Aw, poor boys. In pain this morning?”

Gareth and Jeff groaned. Gareth held up a hand and said, “Not this morning, Beck. Have mercy.”

I glanced over to Eddie, turned back to the boys and said, “I dunno,” I put my hands on my hips, “I think I’m feeling like some music this morning. Really chase away the demons.”

Eddie started laughing and slung his arm over my shoulders. Gareth and Jeff groaned and continued to hold their heads. I looked between Eddie and Wayne just to make sure I hadn’t over stepped.

Wayne walked over to me and said, “Now I see why Eddie likes you so much. She’s sharp.” He raised a coffee mug to us, then to the boys, and said, “Have a good day, kids.” Then he made his way down the hall and into his room.

We waited a moment and Eddie murmured so only I could hear, “I like your choice in shirt. It looks familiar.”

I looked up into his smirking face and said, “I would have put my shirt back on, but it got lost last night.” He hummed as he came down to capture my lips in his.

From the living room floor Jeff groaned, “No, no PDA so early.”

Eddie looked over to his two remaining friends and said, “If you’re so concerned why don’t you just leave?”

“We have to wait for Matty to empty his stomach,” Gareth said tightly. “I’m not going to risk him puking in my mom’s car.”

I laughed in the direction the poor guy had gone to, indeed, heave up the contents of his stomach. I looked up to Eddie and said, “It’s alright. I should probably get home and finish my essay for Mrs. O’Donnell’s class.” Eddie shivered dramatically. “Hey, I have to finish it so we can start your essay.”

He groaned and clutched his chest, “You’ve wounded me. I thought you cared about me?” He slumped to his knees and began to grasp at my legs. “Please, take mercy!”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Jesus, Eddie, could you be any more dramatic?”

He broke character and looked up to me with a mischievous smirk, “I could if you wanted.”

“No, no,” I said and pulled at his hands, “Wayne is trying to sleep and you need to get me home.” Eddie made a protesting sound but still got up to his feet and began to trudge towards the door.

I turned back to Gareth and Jeff, who were still flopped in the living room, and said, “Have a good day, guys. On the way home grab some ginger from the grocery store. It’ll help.” They moaned collectively and I closed the door behind me.

#eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson #fem!oc #slow burn

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jin0 · 3 years

Text

Coming Home To You [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter always comes home to you. Always. Even when he's technically not supposed to. Because that's not what broken up people do.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : Minor DNI, 18+ ONLY, angst, groveling, wounded pete, a lot of flirting and sexual tension, smut, p in v, slight mention if titty worshipping, wounded sex

A/N : merry xmas to all those who celebrate !!! I've been blocking on this for two days but i finally finished it so yeah !!! hope you guys enjoy !!!

again, i didn't proofread so all mistakes and typos are mine !!!

(the teen wolf fans will probably recognize the song 🙈)

Typing frantically on your laptop, you tried to keep your eyes open. They burned, either from the light of the device or from the sleep deprivation, both worked actually. You hared yourself a little more every second for not deciding on a career path that didn’t require less education and homework. Now it was clearly too fucking late to back down, you were already in your second year and your parents and family members were so proud of you ? You couldn’t disappoint them like that by giving up on the way.

As you tried to finish the very last sentences of that annoying essay you had to write, a sound took you out of your thoughts and concentration bubble. Your turned your head slightly towards it but never fully turning. You were hidden well enough by the closet besides the window and that gave you the possibility to hide yourself. If it was a burglar, faking ignorance would probably save your life. Now, you were pretty sure it wasn’t a burglar, not on the twelfth floor of your apartment building at 3:37 in the morning.

Hearing the sound of something banging against your window, you exhaled, already feeling exhausted by the possible encounter.

“Come on… Please… Please gorgeous… Please baby… Let me in…” Begged the man outside.

You would recognize this voice in-between millions and that idea just made your heart hurt. This wasn’t the moment for you to deal with this. Not when it still hurt you that much to have him around. You heard him sigh and thought he was leaving you in peace but instead the rattling sound of your window followed.

You spun around in your rolling chair and watched in absolutely shock as he opened the window and let himself in. Your anger of the moment was quickly replaced by terror and worry when you noticed the deep wounds covering his chest. Still in his suit, three enormous slashing marks covered his torso, blood still dripping out of them. They were fresh, he probably came by directly.

You rushed to his aid, helping him climb in a gentler way than he was doing. The man was practically throwing his entire body on your floor. You wrapped one if his arm over your shoulders and helped him walk towards the seat in your room. You exhaled, eyes trembling and watery, observing him with anger and sadness. He would end up dead in front of your window one day and you couldn’t handle that.

Looking up at you with pleading eyes, he breathed heavily, trying to gather a little bit of energy and oxygen back into his body. Right after the fight with a psycho owning a whip which happened to also have blades, he had swung directly towards your apartment. He needed to see you, craved your presence around his. It was unbearable to go back to his apartment and May was definitely out of the picture.

“Come one beautiful… Don’t look at me like that… I can’t handle it…” He whined in pain, both internally and externally.

Watching you carefully, he could see through you like an open book. You weren’t just angry at him for being here, you were terrified and he hated himself for doing this to you. You were his everything and making you feel pain was the last thing he wanted but that was very ironic to think considering the current state if your relationship.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your forehead. You had to gather your thoughts, compose yourself and get to work. God, you were lucky you had like two phrases left to write on your paper and they were generally useless, just for show honestly. You were definitely not going to be going back to work tonight.

Going to your bathroom, you gathered the essential things you would need to fix him up before going back to him. You should’ve thrown all of this away but you didn’t, you couldn’t. Not when you stayed awake at night waiting for him to leave your window. You should’ve told him to stop but you couldn’t. There were so many things you couldn’t do lately and all had to do with him. He made you feel so much that now you were left with nothing.

You sat down on the seat, trying to take the least amount of space and not touch him. He was still staring at your every move and probably got that you were trying to avoid physical contact. He hated this. You should’ve never felt this way, been pushed this far. He forced you in this tony corner, away from him and that was ten times more painful than the wounds on his chest.

He’d been thinking about you so much lately. You probably knew that he spent hours watching you sleep by the window. He couldn’t sleep anyways and when you overworked yourself fighting crime, the criminals did end up disappearing. There wasn’t much to fight anymore, just swinging around m, desperately looking for something to prevent him from running to your apartment to beg for you to be with him again.

He couldn’t bear the feeling of his own bedsheets anymore, freezing and unfamiliar. They felt like they belonged to someone else, like he was sleeping in someone else’s bed and that was partially true. You had made his bed yours, his sheets too, his entire apartment was yours and so was he. Everything he was, was yours and he had been stripped off of it.

He couldn’t do this anymore, this life of lurking around you, sleeping on the floor with the shirts of his you had worn and given back. It had been two whole month and he was running out if things that smelled like you but he still had his memory to save him, a reminder of the feeling of your skin on these pieces of fabric. He had never felt so lucky for the enhanced senses, everything in him being able to vividly remember the feeling of you and your body heat in his arms. All that was still so fresh in his mind but he was greedy and needed the real thing. He was craving you, begging for you to be brought back to him.

He groaned in pain, violently brought back to reality and out of his daydreams but his eyes still focused on your beautiful face. He would never get tired of seeing you.

“Sorry…” You muttered softly, rubbing the wet cloth over his wound.

“Don’t be…” He responded, tone just as soft as your.

Stopping your movements to stare at him back, you were lost in his eyes. He always complained about them being boring but you loved them. They had been your favorite feature of his and now you just felt nauseous looking at them.

Reaching up to hold your face, he slid his fingers softly all around your skin. You felt tingles run down your spine and your entire body as he took hold of your chin delicately. He was looking at you, pleading with you, begging once again, for you to let him in. Not your apartment but in you, your soul, your heart.

“Please… Please baby, look at me… Please… Don’t push me away…” He begged, nearing closer and closer to you.

The simple view of your lips made him dizzy with want (or blood lose). He needed to taste them, taste you. He needed a little bit, just a little bot to keep going. He was desperate.

You started shaking your head slowly, fighting off tears and your own annoying feelings. You couldn’t let him in, not that easily, not like that, not now. Closing your eyes and turning your face away from him, you refused to cave. Not now, not after what happened.

You stood up abruptly, turning around and forcing him to be faced by your back. He couldn’t see and hear you, breathing heavily and frantically wiping your eyes with your shirt. He, himself, was fighting back tears looking down on his chest with a sad smile.

“Why did you come here Peter ?” You queried, looking through the window. He could see the reflection of your face, you were crying heavier tears each second. All because of him. He couldn’t let this go on. He needed to do something, he needed to fix the both if you, no matter what. Or at least make sure that you weren’t crying because of him ever again.

He stood up, wincing loudly, which pulled a reaction out of you. You spun around, rushing to force him back down on the seat which made him chuckle. Even in a situation like this you cared about his wellbeing.

“P-Please whatever you’re about to say… Say it from here, seating down and not fucking up your wounds further.” You pleaded, taking back the wet rag and the other necessary supplies.

“Okay… I’ll stay still for you buttercup.” He chuckled, watching you glare at him. You constantly said you hated the nickname but he knew better.

And he was right, you loved it. It made you feel at peace for some reason. You had missed hearing it all the time now.

Watching you with big doe eyes as you covered his chest in bandages, he reached for you once more. He delicately cupped your cheek and raised himself slightly to bring himself closer to you. This time you didn’t reject him, simply chuckling but also closing your eyes in anticipation. You felt his breath on your face, his lips kissing your cheeks tenderly before going to the tip of your nose and then bending his neck to reach your lips.

He was hesitating, not because he didn’t want to kiss you, god he wanted this and only this. He’d been wanting this from the moment you walked out the door, hitting himself in the chest repeatedly and cursing himself for staying still as you walked out of his apartment. He wanted to run to you, spin you in his arms and keep you close against his chest as he kissed your soft, plump lips repeatedly telling you that he was sorry, he didn’t mean it, he loved you and he wanted you to stay with him for ever. He had dreamt of it but was always brutally brought back to reality by his alarm. Hell, he ended up smacking it with his fist and instantly regretted it when he remembered you had bought it for him. He had spent the morning crying with the shattered debris of his broken alarm before deciding that he would rebuild it with the help of his memory, pictures of the both of you that featured it in the back and web fluid.

What he had been hesitant about was the moment you would reject him, push him away. He had been waiting, expecting you to, he deserved it after all. To be pushed away further, kissed by the freezing rejection instead. He would’ve deserved it, after the pain he caused the both of you. He wanted you to reject him, as punition for being a moron. Except you didn’t want that, you didn’t reject him, you even come towards him, soft smile on your lips. Oh, he had missed it, your beautiful smile, real and directed at him.

His kips puckered, reaching towards yours and grazed your skin before fully pushing his face against yours. It was light, so light he was pretty sure he had dreamt it or at least hallucinated it. He was breathing in your scent, eager to keep peppering light kisses against your lips.

He left himself be guided, practically controlled by your movements. What you chose to do he would follow, so when you pushed yourself in his direction, making sure that he laid on the arm of the seat again, he didn’t fight back.

Detaching your soft lips from his, you let your fingers slide down his chest softly, chuckling when he tried to reach for one more kiss. He just wanted one more, needed it even. You laid your hand flat on his stomach, successfully avoiding the open wounds, to settle him.

“Easy there, bug boy…” You chuckled against his lips.

He should’ve been embarrassed about the effect the nickname had on him. He instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to bring your closer to him and he was very pleased when you didn’t resist.

“Fuck… That nickname… I missed it so much…” He muttered, holding your cheek close to his face and kissing the corner of your mouth tenderly.

Peter had always been really needy for you, always finding a way to touch you. He had to have his hands on you or he would be terrible to everyone around. You didn’t even want to mention how feral he would get when fucking you. You often ended up begging for five minutes of rest at least.

Pushing himself up, he felt like he was repeating a never ending cycle : pushing himself towards you, desperate for your touch, suffering from the lack of it while trying to be as docile for you. He knew how much impact you had on him, it even scared him sometimes. Being this in love for you, it was terrifying and it did make him make bad decisions. The main one in his mind was the one that had created the situation you were both in currently.

“Peter… You can’t… We can’t…” You said, words slurred and muffled by his lips. You couldn’t cave m, not now, not like this. You wanted explanations first and honesty too.

“I know… I know baby… Fuck… I know, I’m trying… But I just… I need one more kiss… Just one more… One last…” He begged, rubbing his nose against yours. His eyes were looking down on your mouth and he was trying to contain himself as you bit your lips, trapping them behind your teeth. He wanted to do that, fuck, he needed to do that. Bite them, suck them, all just for you.

“Come on Pete… We both know that one last will never be one last, not for real at least…” You were amused by his lying, you both knew better.

“Yeah, I know… I always come back to you… Always needy for you… You… And only you…” He said, voice low and deep, filled with a craving sensation. He was keeping his hands nice around your waist but he wanted to keep them roaming on your body.

“If you always come back to me Pete… Why did you break up with me then ?�� You asked softly.

He had been expecting this question or at least for you to say something that would give him an opportunity to talk, explain his reasoning and the goal behind his actions. He needed to tell you the whole truth, he couldn’t go on any longer.

Pulling away from you with teary eyes, he grabbed your face in both his hands, kissing your forehead and cheeks repeatedly.

“I know baby… I know I fucked up… Fuck, I can’t ever forgive myself for this princess…” Taking a long pause to breath in and compose himself, he backed up from you, putting on distance between both your bodies. “I-I just can’t… The hold you have on me… The power you have on me, buttercup… Fuck… It terrifies me… Because if it came down to it, I would risk it all for you. Even if it meant putting the rest of the world in danger in the process. I’m scared of the person I’ll become if you life or happiness is on the line…” He revealed, a soft yet sad smile stretching his lips. He wasn’t looking at you anymore but far off in the distance, probably zoning out.

Taking a big breath, you wiped the tears off of your face and repositioned yourself in his hold and on the seat.

“If… If it’s so dangerous for me to be around you… Why do you keep coming back here ? Why do you show up at my window at least once a night ? Why don’t you just… stay away, Peter ?” You questioned, voice as steady as you could make it.

When he laughed, you felt slightly stupid about your question but then you remembered who this was. This was Peter, his reactions were surprising but he would never make fun in a serious conversation. Not this one at least.

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing ever… Staying away from you…” He chuckles, looking into your eyes deeply. His hand had slid under your shirt to caress the skin of your waist. “I couldn’t do it when we were together… And I definitely can’t do it now… You’re… You’re pulling me towards you without even knowing it... Every time I try, I end up right back where it started. I end here, hanging on your window like a fucking idiot, hoping I could erase this stupid conversation and idea out of your mind. What fuck ass idea was this anyways ? Breaking up to protect you ? Please, I’m not protecting anyone without you around… Not even myself.” He joked, pulling you even closer to him and laying his forehead on your shoulder.

You stayed silent, letting him find comfort and peace against you. Truthfully, you had needed him just as much as he said he needed you. Everything you did, you would think about him and it would end up in a stupid fight between you and yourself. A part of you wanted to move on, out of spite, and the other wanted to wait, to give the both of you time to hope and calm down. At the end, both had won in a way, you weren’t necessarily welcoming him in your life that easily but you were also not rejecting him or his love.

“Pete… If you weren’t injured I would kick your fucking ass for thinking this kinds of shit.” You exhaled, throwing him a pointed look. He turned his head to see your eyes and chuckled against your skin, gripping you tighter in his arms. “Like, you were scared and just decided to push me away ? Instead of talking to me about it ? Because breaking up was such a genius idea huh ? And what did you think you would become if I was in danger ? Jeffrey fucking Dahmer ? Please Peter, the worst thing you did to a literal lizard trying to turn the whole town into lizards was cure him.” You spat sarcastically, still glaring at him, his face buried in your neck.

“Talking wouldn’t be doing much about the situation, beautiful. It would probably make me even more in love but let’s not get into that right now…” He responded, breathing in your scent and rubbing his nose against your neck. “I think we can both agree that I’m simply not the best at making decisions… I’m not the most rational guy there is… And I do tend to let fear drive me sometimes…”

“Yeah, we noticed.”

A comfortable silence settled in the room. This was the first time in a while that you both felt at peace in silence. Usually, you felt like the emptiness and lack of noise in the room was suffocating you, a glaring reminder that something was missing. To fill it you would play music, but music could only do so much in comparison to the soft voice of the man you wanted. You had missed him tremendously and only now were you fully confronting that fact. Your heart, which had been in this violent state of constant destruction and pain, was finally settling. You wanted to laugh, he was scared of the power you had on him, he would be surprised to find out about the power he had on you.

You were pulled out lf your thoughts by his large hand wrapping itself around the back of your neck, squeezing it a little bit and pulling you towards his face. Only now did you resist, wanting to give in more than anything, kissing him tenderly like you used to. You wanted to and he knew it, better than anyone.

“No… Peter…” You breathed out softly, a smile on your face.

“Yes… Please… Yes…” Responded the boy, still longing desperately for you and the softness of your lips. He was pecking your lips more and more feverishly, feeling that you were loosing this battle against yourself when you grabbed his other hand.

“No…”

“Yes…”

“No…”

“Yes…”

This little back and forth did not last long, his tongue already licking your lips and tacking the opportunity you gave him by parting your lips to moan his name, desperately. When you felt it slide in your mouth, you fully closed your eyes, letting the pleasure take over. His lips, warm and tasting as sweet as honey were wrapping themselves around your, swallowing eagerly, each and every and everyone of the sounds you would make. He had needed these, praying to everything out there to let him dream of you so that he could remember better, more vividly. He had needed you, the feeling of your skin against his, your scent on him, drowning his senses and filling his brain with thoughts of you only.

You nose, rubbing against his face, you pulled away slowly, smiling even more when he whined for more, constantly following you as you tried to detach your lips from his. Inhaling his scent, you felt at home with him so close to you. He was always coming back to you, and you would always come back to him.

“You can’t do that Peter… You can’t keep coming here knowing that you and I aren’t together anymore… We can’t keep doing this… It’s not how broken up people are supposed to act and you know it…” You said, trying your best to sound stern and severe when truly you didn’t mean any of the words you said.

“I can’t beautiful… I can’t stay away… I can’t move on, I won’t. I don’t want to…You have my whole heart in your hands and I can’t just take it back you know ? It’s rude to take a gift back. And I was raised to be polite.” He responded with a teasing tone that you knew like the back of your hand

He wasn’t just saying that he couldn’t take back his heart, he was begging you not to force him to do so. He wouldn’t survive taking it back, even if it was in perfect state, filled with good memories and love, he couldn’t take it back. Because he would crush it himself to make sure he would never love again after you. And Peter had a certain talent when it came to defying Destiny.

“Hey, look at me.” He raised himself, seating up fully and grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up on his lap. You knew better than fight back, he wouldn’t mind injuring himself further to have you close to him. This man was an absolute danger to his own safety, an absolute terror.

“I love you princess, and I’d rather fall off a building and let myself crash than let you go that easily. I’ll spend as long as it takes, fighting to be yours again. Or at least officially, I’ve never stopped being yours anyways.” He declared, a grin on his handsome face. God you hated him and his stupid grin that made your heart beat so fast you felt like the motor of a fucking race car.

You exhaled shakily when you felt his lips against the base of your neck. Kissing tenderly on your soft skin, he started sucking and biting when you moved your face out of the way to give him more space. How could you resist him when you had craved him so badly ? You couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you didn’t.

“Peter…” You muttered, slowly rolling your hips on him.

He gripped you waist tighter, as if you would run away if he didn’t. He couldn’t let you go, not like that. You were his world, the drive he needed to keep waking up every day, the motivation behind his spider activities, everything he did led him back to you. He even found himself thinking about a family and the life you could live together and that, that killed him. Every moment spent thinking about it was a new reason to fight for you and your love. His heart was already yours, beating more and more for the woman he dreamt of calling his wife one day. Yeah, he would fight for you.

“I’m sorry buttercup… I love you… So, so, so much…” He repeated, his lips traveling around the skin of your shoulders and neck. You knew he was waiting for you to stop him, keeping himself focused and controlled to not lose it on you. You scent and the warmth produced by your body were intoxicating, but your little moans as he kissed sensitive points of you body were drugs he refused to let go of. You were his drug and if getting clean meant living without you, then he refused to do so.

You slid your hand over his large back, reaching all the way up to his nape and playing with his hair in an attempt to calm the rapidly disappearing control he had over himself.

“Peter, look at me baby…” His eyes snapped towards yours, entirely focused on you by the second you called his name. He tried to keep in a whine when you called him by this pet name he could never get enough of. “I love you too Pete, but you have to promise that next time you feel scared about us and what could possibly happen, you’ll talk to me. These are the stuff we deal with as a couple, not just you carrying everything on your back. Let me help you, not just because that’s my duty as your girlfriend, but because I fucking love you and that’s the only thing I want to do.” You smiled through teary eyes.

Poor Peter, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He had kept in so much tears in the last days, so much feelings that he refused to share, express with anyone because the only person he wanted to do that with was you. He couldn’t help but cry in silence, burying himself in your arms and muttering your name repeatedly. You chuckled against his forehead, kissing him tenderly and rubbing his back to call him down. You would have a lot of things to discuss, most concerning his tendencies to take on everything on his own. All that you would discuss it, later. For now, you just needed each other and you wouldn’t miss anymore second to be there for the other. Two months had been long enough.

The moment both your tears stopped, his lips were already on your, crashing against your and kissing you so passionately, you both felt dizzy from it. You had tried to get him to love less to not worsen his wounds but he wouldn’t have it, not until he was sure to have tasted you well enough. He needed to have the taste of your skin carved on his skin, he couldn’t imagine going on another period of time without it. His lips roaming your body and biting onto as much space possible to leave marks on you, you didn’t keep in any of your sounds. He would make sure you couldn’t anyways but you would do it. You had missed the feeling of him on you, his hands gripping your body parts and striping you naked under him, you had missed it all so much.

Hands tightly wrapped around your waist, he kissed stifled a laugh against your jawline when you cussed him out once more for abandoning you for two months. He internally started making a little list of all the things he would do to make it up to you. He would spoil you rotten, for as long as you’d allow him, not just to fix his mistake, but because he wanted you to have everything you deserved and beyond.

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never leave you again. I promise…” He promised, lips attached to your ear and sharing every sound he made because of you.

Every groan, moan and curses coming out of his mouth, you heard and each one made you sink further in this endless pit people called love. You were done for, it was official. Peter was officially everything you needed right now and you were comfortable with the life you had decided to live.

You sung his name like a mantra when his fingers parted your folds and lapped at your core, pulling violent orgasms out of you. His own throbbing cock didn’t matter at all when he could be satisfied by pleasing you. The pleasure, so high and violent that you had been crying in pleasure, his name never leaving your lips once. It was all you knew, all you cared for, all you wanted.

Looking up at your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, he was never satisfied, never getting enough of you and the taste of you. Your sweet juices pooling in his mouth and drowning his every senses, he couldn’t stop. Or simply didn’t want to. He would spend his life between your legs if you allowed him.

“Come on princess, I know you’ve got one left for me… Just one more okay ? For me ?” He pleaded, biting your sensitive inner thighs and enjoying the little whimpers coming out of your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from cumming, unable to handle another violent orgasm like the previous ones.

The moment he entered you, girth throbbing and desperate to be held tightly in your warm heat, he felt like passing out. He had stopped bleeding a while ago and felt his wounds heal rapidly. This had simply cemented the fact that you made his world spin so fast, he lived in a constant state of dizziness.

You felt so familiar and real, he couldn’t believe that he had ever lied to himself this blatantly when saying that dreaming of you would be enough. Nothing was enough compared to you, not even dreams of you. The feeling of your skin, warm and sweat covered against his was unmatchable. And nothing would ever be able to make him feel like he felt with your velvety walls wrapped around him so tightly he could suffocate. He had missed you so much, he could cum from this alone.

“F-Fuck, princess… I-I can’t… Fuck… I missed you so fucking much…” He groaned, voice strained from trying to sound as stable as possible.

You on the other hand didn’t feel much different. You had missed every part of him but feeling his pulsating cock in you spread this burning feeling all through your body. This lava like sensation was a violent reminder of how much this man could do to you. He could tear your world down and rebuild it as much as he wanted, you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

Holding your thighs apart and biting on the swell of your breast desperately, his hips drove into your pussy, spreading you open further and further around him. His entire body was covering yours, god he was so fucking tall, you could only see him. Your hands were spread over his back, nails gripping tight in his skin and leaving deep red marks on the way. Your moans echoed in the room and his head, you sounded like an angel, a goddess even, one that he would worship for the rest of eternity and never get tired of it. He had missed you so much, everything about him was screaming in joy to have you again.

Fuck, anyone should be checked in a mental institution for loving someone else that much, loving them enough to completely disregarding their own safety. He should probably tell you about the rookie mistakes he made in fights because he would see things that reminded him of you. Today had been one, he had seen a cat and remembered how you mentioned wanting to adopt a cat with him. You’d name it Spider Kitty, he thought the idea was absolutely genius.

He kept your tits, heavy and supple in his mouth, sucking onto you vigorously and letting the vibrations of his groans and moans get muffled by your skin. You yourself couldn’t hold your sounds anymore and he didn’t want you to, but the vision of your fucked out state, drooling and biting onto the bedsheets that you gripped so tight, you tore it up, was too beautiful to pass up on.

“Look at me gorgeous… I want you to see how much cum I put in you… I want you all filled up with me… Keeping it all deep in you, it’s all yours… All of me is yours…” He moaned, plowing into your wet cunt deeply.

The only sounds heard now were only your cries of pleasure and the sound obscene sounds of your skins slapping against each other. Both of you, desperate for each other, did not stop until the early rays of sunshiny started showing. Both spent but happier than ever before, laid comfortably in the arms of the other. Your head rested on his chest with your body nuzzling to his side, your leg perched on top of his. One of his arm held you tightly while the other drew shapes over your naked body, roaming from you ribs to your belly and descending to your thigh. He was watching you carefully, loving the feeling he was basking in, comfort, peace, love. He had never felt so lost before but your absence had scared him in a way he refused to live again.

He kissed your forehead tenderly, smiling when you scrunched your nose in your sleep. Even in your sleep, you were so gentle with him, laying your fingers softly on his wounded chest. He let out a heavy sigh, not one of exhaustion but of happiness. He was at ease and so were you. He fell asleep a few minutes later, lips still pressed against the crown of your head.

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