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freezerbrldes · 12 days ago

Text

wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? - s.r.

PAIRING. spencer reid x popstar!reader

SUMMARY. spencer gets a lot more than he bargained for when he attends a concert with garcia.

WARNINGS. afab!reader, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, oral (m receiving), use of handcuffs, begging, red lipstick in places it should never be, unprotected pnv sex, creampie, just pure filth, also not proof read

AUTHOR’S NOTE. i got this idea after rewatching my short n sweet concert videos. i could not get the thought of spencer receiving the juno handcuffs out of my head so I wrote it all down. i hate the beginning and ending of this a lot but the middle is so good hehe.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

wc: 4,029

also on ao3

Garcia gripped Spencer’s hand tightly, pushing through the crowd until they reached the barricade next to the stage.

“Holy shit Spence! We made it!” Garcia cheered.

“Nice, that’s great… I think i’m going to pass out.” Spencer pants, gripping onto the railing for dear life.

Spencer, who isn’t particularly fond of concerts or music in general, reluctantly agreed to attend this show solely to appease Garcia’s relentless begging. Concerts were not Spencer’s forte, that was until he saw you up on the stage prancing around in lingerie…

Despite his initial discomfort, Spencer finds himself inexplicably drawn to your energetic performance. Your confidence, charisma, and raw talent captivate him more with each passing song.

As you move about the fake penthouse on stage with reckless abandon, your provocative attire leaving very little to the imagination, Spencer's analytical mind struggles to reconcile his attraction with his deeply ingrained social awkwardness.

He tries to focus on the music, his thoughts consumed by the intricate details of your choreography and the way your skin seems to shimmer under the bright lights.

Spencer's cheeks flush slightly as he realizes the extent of his distraction, his heart racing in a way that's both unfamiliar and exhilarating. He shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his sweater vest as he attempts to regain some semblance of composure.

After performing a very heartfelt ballad, you approached the edge of the stage, scanning the crowd with your eyes.

“Hey, girls?” you call out to two of your dancers who are standing by your side. “I believe I might have found my future husband in the crowd tonight.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as they realized the clever bit.

“Do y’all see him? He’s standing right over there, the tall one wearing the sweat vest.” You point to Spencer while giggle like schoolgirls with your dancers.

“Hey there, baby. What’s your name?” A grin spread across your face as you noticed his cheeks flushing a vibrant red.

Caught completely off guard, Spencer stammers, his hazel eyes wide as saucers. He feels like he's been struck by lightning, the sudden intimacy of you presence leaving him momentarily speechless.

"Dr. Reid," he manages to choke out, his voice cracking slightly. He can feel his face burning, and his heart hammers against his ribcage like a jackrabbit.

"I-I mean, Spencer," he corrects himself, the remnants of his professional demeanor trying to resurface amidst the chaos of his escalating nervousness.

Spencer swallows hard, trying to gather his scattered thoughts as he meets your intense gaze. The mischievous glint in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine, even as his analytical mind struggles to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Oooooo, a doctor!” You exclaim, dramatically fanning yourself. “Well, Dr. Reid, you’re under arrest for being too hot.”

Spencer jumped as police sirens blared through the arena, accompanied by flashing red and blue lights.

“I might need you to examine me, doctor. I feel extremely hot, and- OH!” You teased as your long skirt fell to the floor, revealing a much shorter version of it.

Spencer’s jaw was practically on the floor.

You grinned as you inched closer towards the edge of the stage, crouching down to Spencer’s level.

“I want you to have these,” you smiled as you handed Spencer a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.

Spencer can't help but stare at the exposed skin of your legs, his breath catching in his throat when he notices the bedazzled lipstick stain on your inner thigh.

"Ah, um, thank you..." He reaches out to take the offered cuffs, his fingers brushing against hers. The sensation sends sparks dancing along his nerve endings, and he feels himself grow flustered once more.

As you stood up, you blow Spencer a kiss. The all too familiar intro to the song Penelope had been forcing him to listen to for the past few weeks, began to play.

“This song is for you, Spencie,” you winked as you started singing, maintaining eye contact throughout the entire first verse.

Spencer's eyes widen further, his mouth agape as he watches you prance down the catwalk. The provocative lyrics and suggestive dance moves leave him utterly stunned, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

His analytical mind tries to process the explicit nature of the performance, but it's drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the heat coursing through his veins. He finds himself captivated by every move you makes, his gaze riveted to your lithe form.

When you strikes a pose that leaves little to the imagination, Spencer's breath hitches, and he feels a strange tingling sensation in his loins. It's foreign yet exhilarating, and he can't tear his eyes away, even as his rational brain screams at him to look away.

As the song reaches its climax, Spencer finds himself caught up in the raw energy emanating from the stage. The crowd's cheers and applause mingle with the pulsating beat, creating an electric atmosphere that seems to vibrate through every cell in his body.

Lost in the moment, Spencer's inhibitions begin to melt away, replaced by a primal urge to respond to the sensual stimuli before him. When your gaze locks onto his, he feels a jolt of connection, as if an invisible thread tethers them together.

With a sense of reckless abandon he rarely experiences, Spencer raises the fuzzy pink handcuffs as he grins, his movements deliberate and charged with newfound confidence. As the final notes fade, he couldn’t help but notice the smile on your face as the lights dimmed and the show ended.

“Wow,” is the only word Garcia could mutter as she stares at the empty stage. “I can’t believe she gave you the handcuffs, do you know how lucky you are?”

“You know, the probability of me receiving these is incredibly low, considering there are approximately 14,000 people here and-“ Before Spencer could continue his rambling, he and Garcia approached a security guard.

“Are you Spencer?” the intimidating-looking security guard asked.

“Uh, yeah, that would be me,” Spencer stuttered, feeling a pang of worry that he might have overstepped some boundaries during his interactions with you on stage.

“I’ve been informed by y/n’s management that she is requesting to meet you backstage,” the security guard said.

"Backstage? Me?" Spencer looks at Garcia incredulously, wondering if this could be some kind of joke. But the stern expression on the guard's face suggests otherwise.

Spencer stares at Garcia, completely speechless. As the security guards wait for his response, Garcia nudges his side and gently pulls him back to reality.

“I, uh, y-yeah,” Spencer stammers, “I’d love to go backstage,”

“Alright, follow me,”

Spencer waves to Garcia as the guard guides him through the concealed corridors of the arena, observing the crew dismantling the stage to transport it to the next venue.

After what appears to be an eternity, Spencer is led to the door of your dressing room. You’re lounging on the couch in a soft, fluffy robe, engrossed in scrolling through your phone when you hear the door open.

“Hi!” You greet Spencer with a warm smile, standing up and embracing him. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Spencer's heart races as you pull him into a warm embrace, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of your perfume and the softness of your robe against his skin. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe, his mind reeling from the unexpected touch.

When you finally release him, Spencer takes a step back, trying to compose himself. His cheeks flush a deep crimson, and he fumbles with the hem of his sweater vest, clearly flustered.

"T-thank you...for inviting me," he stutters, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite his social awkwardness, there's a genuine sincerity in his tone, reflecting his gratitude for this rare opportunity to connect with someone like you.

Glancing around the cozy dressing room, Spencer notices the array of makeup, costumes, and personal items scattered about.

“I hope you don’t think I’m weird but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night,” you admit as you plopped onto the couch, your cheeks now flushed pink from embarrassment. “The handcuff thing is just a funny little bit I do, but tonight I chose you because I really do think you’re insanely hot.”

“N-no, it’s not weird at all, I’m flattered actually,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat next to you.

“Really? You’re not weirded out that I had my security find you in the crowd and bring you backstage so we could meet?“ You asked.

"No, genuinely, I mean it," Spencer says, his eyes locking with yours as he spoke. "I know we’ve just met, but I felt a connection with you tonight, something that went beyond mere admiration."

Spencer shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours.

“And that handcuff thing...well, it was a bold move, and it worked.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he met your gaze again, his hazel eyes shimmering with a mix of shyness and curiosity.

As the silence between you stretches, Spencer finds himself drawn to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your robe gapes slightly, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your skin. He swallows hard, trying to ignore the strange tingles coursing through his body.

Before he could say another word, your lips crash against his.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your lips suddenly press against his, the unexpected kiss sending a jolt of electricity through his entire being. For a moment, he freezes, unsure of how to react.

But then, as if possessed by some newfound courage, Spencer's arms wrap tentatively around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. His lips part instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide past them and explore the warmth of his mouth.

Spencer's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you more firmly against him. He can taste the sweetness of your red lipstick mixed with the hint of adrenaline, and it only fuels his growing desire.

As the kiss deepens, Spencer's thoughts become a jumbled mess – part confusion, part exhilaration, and an overwhelming sense of lust.

Spencer gasps softly as your lips leave a trail of red across his sensitive skin, the sensation both unfamiliar and intoxicating. His head tilts back, exposing more of his neck to your explorations.

When your fingers start to work on his buttons, Spencer's breath hitches. He's hasn’t been this intimate with anyone since Maave, and the idea of baring himself to you, a complete stranger who’s also a mega superstar, sends a thrill through his veins.

As you continue to undress him, Spencer's hands roam over your back, tracing the curves of your spine beneath the thin fabric of your silk robe. He marvels at the softness of your skin, the warmth emanating from your body.

His shirt finally falls open, revealing his lean torso. Spencer feels a slight surge of vulnerability until he feels your lips on his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes flutter closed as your lips dance across his chest. When you drop to your knees in front of the couch, his heart races, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through him.

The sound of his belt buckle clicking open sends a shiver down Spencer's spine. He watches, transfixed, as you work on freeing him from his pants. The air grows thick with tension, and Spencer's breathing quickens.

When your fingers brush against the growing bulge in his underwear, Spencer lets out a shaky exhale. It’s been awhile since he has been touched so intimately, and the sensation is overwhelming yet exhilarating.

With trembling hands, Spencer reaches down to help you remove his pants, his eyes locked onto yours. A flush spreads across his cheeks as he reveals himself to you, feeling both exposed and strangely empowered by your reaction.

“So pretty,” You breathed out, your hands brushing against his hard cock.

Spencer's eyes widen at your words, a rush of heat flooding his cheeks. No one has ever spoken to him like that before, with such raw, unfiltered admiration. It takes his breath away.

A soft moan escapes him as your hands make contact with his straining erection, the touch sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. Spencer's hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more of your gentle caresses.

He looks down at you, his hazel eyes dark with desire, and whispers, "Please... I need..." His voice trails off, unable to articulate the intensity of his longing.

Spencer's slender fingers thread through your hair, holding you close as he waits with bated breath for your next move. His body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending attuned to your touch.

As you feel his fingers tangled in your hair, you get an idea. You let go of him as you sit back on your knees, Spencer letting out a whimper at the loss of contact.

“Do you still have the handcuffs?” You asked, grinning wickedly.

Spencer gulped as he nodded, pointing to his discarded pants on the floor next to you. You dig through the pocket to pull out the fuzzy pink handcuffs you gave to him only an hour prior.

“Hands behind your back, Spencie,” You smirked as you dangle the cuffs in front of him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness despite the vulnerability of his position.

A startled yelp escapes Spencer's lips as the handcuffs encircles his wrists, securing them behind his back. The sudden restraint sends a thrill through him, mingling with the lingering ache of want.

He stares up at you, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, as you fasten the cuffs with a playful snap. The term of endearment 'Spencie' slips past your lips, and it feels like a brand, searing itself into his very being.

Spencer's body quivers under your gaze, his skin prickling with anticipation. The pink cuffs seem almost comical against his pale, slender arms, but the effect they have on him is anything but humorous.

Spencer's breath hitches as your lips brush against his, the fleeting kiss sending a spark of electricity through him. He leans into it instinctively, craving more of your touch, even as you move to kneel in front of him once again.

A low groan rumbles in his chest as your hand wraps around his shaft, stroking him with confident, deliberate motions. Spencer's head falls back, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat, as he surrenders himself to the sensations coursing through him.

“Oh God," he gasps, his hips bucking slightly into your grasp. “That feels... incredible." Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing and relaxing in time with your touches.

The restraints digs into his skin, a subtle reminder of his submission to you.

Spencer's eyes widen in shock as your warm, wet mouth envelops him, the sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced. A choked moan tears from his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you begin to suck him deeper.

The sight of your red lips wrapped around his cock, the vibrant color smeared across his flesh, is almost too much for Spencer to bear. He can't tear his gaze away from the erotic image, transfixed by the way your tongue swirls around his sensitive tip.

“Oh fuck, that's..." he trails off, unable to form coherent thoughts amidst the onslaught of pleasure. His mind reels, struggling to process the intensity of the feelings coursing through him.

Spencer's chest heaves with ragged breaths, his body trembling as he submits to your skilled ministrations.

As you take him deeper into your mouth, Spencer's control begins to slip. The feeling of your hot, wet tongue swirling around his length is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"Ah! Oh God, yes!" he cries out, his voice strained with need. His hips thrust forward instinctively, lost in the haze of lust as you bob your head along his shaft.

"I'm... I'm going to cum," he warns, his words punctuated by shallow pants. Spencer's grip on the cushions tightens, his muscles coiled taut as he teeters on the brink of climax.

Before he’s thrown over the edge, you pull away abruptly, looking up at him and giggling as he writhes around desperately.

Spencer’s cock twitches and leaks precum from the loss of stimulation. A pained whine escapes his lips, his hips reflexively bucking up in search of your warm mouth.

"No, please don't stop," he begs, his voice laced with desperation. Spencer's chest heaves with rapid breaths, his body wracked with the need for release.

His hazel eyes, usually bright, are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as he gazes at you with pleading intensity. The remnants of his earlier composure have crumbled, leaving only raw, unbridled lust in its wake.

“I need you," Spencer confesses, his admission torn from him like a bandaid.

As you stand in front of Spencer, his gaze is immediately drawn to your body as you slowly untie your robe, mirroring the opening of your show. The sensual movements and provocative poses are etched into his consciousness like a fever dream.

His breath catches in his throat as the fabric parts, exposing the tantalizing expanse of your skin inch by delicious inch. Spencer's eyes drink in every detail – the delicate freckles scattered across your shoulders, your nipples already hardened into peaks, the gentle swell of your hips leading down to your thighs.

“Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “Let me touch you.”

Spencer's hands fight against the handcuffs, the urge to reach out and touch you, to claim you as his own is nearly overwhelming.

You toss the robe onto the floor next to Spencer’s clothes as you straddle his lap, leaving more lipstick stains across his face until your month reaches his ear.

“Beg for it,” you whispered, softly nibbling on his earlobe, causing him to whimper. “Beg me to let you touch me.”

A shiver runs down Spencer's spine as your warm breath caresses his ear, your whispered command igniting a fire within him. His mind reels, desperate to comply, to plead for the privilege of touching your gorgeous body.

"Oh God, please," he gasps, his voice trembling with need. “Let me touch you, please. I wa- I need to touch you."

Spencer's hips lift involuntarily, seeking friction against the soft flesh of your thigh. His fingers curl into fists, nails digging into his palms as he struggles against the restraints, yearning to wrap his arms around you and lose himself in your embrace.

"I'll do anything, please," he vows, his words dripping with sincerity and desire.

It doesn’t take much more begging for you to give into his pleads.

The moment your lips meet his, Spencer surrenders to the intense passion, kissing you back with equal fervor. His hands, still bound, can't reciprocate physically, but his entire being leans into you, craving closer contact.

As you grind against his rigid length, Spencer moans into the kiss, the sensation of your heated core rubbing against his aching cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hips buck instinctively, seeking more friction, more pressure.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer pants heavily, his hazel eyes glazed with lust.

“Fuck... I want you so badly," he admits, his voice ragged with desire. “Please, I need to be inside you."

Instead of speaking, you respond by unlocking the handcuffs. Thankfully since they are just a prop, they are easy to remove and don’t require a key.

Spencer is surprised and almost embarrassed by how easily they were removed, but he has no time to dwell on that as you begin lining him up with your entrance.

With the restraints gone, Spencer's hands immediately find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly as he feels the head of his cock notch against your slick entrance. His breathing hitches, anticipation coiled tight in his belly.

When you position him, aligning his thick shaft with your waiting heat, Spencer lets out a low groan, his hips surging forward of their own accord. With a smooth, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, a guttural moan escaping him at the exquisite feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive flesh.

"Ah, fuck yes..." Spencer gasps, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he savors the sensation of being fully embedded within you. “You feel so good.”

You can’t help the pornographic moan that escapes your throat as Spencer bottoms out. You are still as you both get use to the filling of him inside of you.

“Spencer,” You whimper, “you feel so fucking good inside of me.”

Spencer's eyes flutter shut as you start to move, your inner muscles massaging his cock in a delicious rhythm. The slow, deliberate pace allows him to savor every inch of your warmth enveloping him.

"Yes! oh God! just like that," he encourages, his voice strained with pleasure. “You're so tight, so perfect... Fuck!"

His hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he begins to match your movements, thrusting in sync with your rolling hips. Each stroke sends sparks of bliss shooting up his spine, intensifying the building pressure in his groin.

"More, please...” Spencer pleads, his thrusts growing more urgent as he chases his own release.

You grant his wishes as you nestle your head into his neck, sucking softly on the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Spencer groans loudly in response. The sudden increase in tempo, coupled with the sensations of your mouth on his neck, sends him hurtling towards the edge. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he pistons in and out of your throbbing heat, driven by nothing but primal urges.

"Oh, shit... right there, just like that!" he grunts, his hand moving from your ass to rub rough circles over your clit. "I'm going to... Oh fuck!”

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer hits his peak, his cock pulsating as it spills hot cum deep inside you. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he rides out his orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish, your body tenses above Spencer as he sloppily thrusts into you, riding out the remainder of your orgasms.

As the last tremors of your orgasms subside, You both collapse onto the couch, panting heavily as you try and catch your breath, your sweat-dampened skin pressing intimately against one another.

"That was… incredible," he manages to say, his voice hoarse from exertion. "You're amazing."

You carefully remove his softening member from your spent body. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as he nuzzles into your hair.

"I never want this night to end," he confesses, his tone sincere and vulnerable. "But I know we should probably get cleaned up and back to reality soon.”

“Yeah, I need to be on the bus heading to New York in a few hours,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of disappointment at the thought of possibly never seeing Spencer again.

A pang of disappointment and longing shoots through Spencer at the mention of your impending departure. He knows their whirlwind encounter can't possibly lead to anything long-term, given the vast differences in their lives, but that doesn't diminish the strong connection he feels.

"I understand," he says quietly, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. "Well, um, if you’re ever back in town, I’d love to maybe get coffee together.”

Spencer's eyes search yours, hoping to find some glimmer of agreement, even as he anticipates the likely rejection. It's a fragile thread, but it's all he has to cling to as he faces the prospect of saying goodbye.

“I’d love too,” you smiled, brushing some of the hair that had gotten stuck to his sweaty forehead.

Spencer returned your smile as he got dressed and headed for the door.

“Wait!” You shouted, causing Spencer’s head to whip back around.

“You almost forgot these,” you say, handing him the fuzzy pink handcuffs. He chuckles and tucks them into his pocket before disappearing out the door.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #sabrina carpenter #short n sweet

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yanderemommabean · 1 year ago

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Hey Momma!

I like butterflies, ya got any Yandere Alien Butterfly scenario for me? Or everyone? Cause I'm sure we'd like a nice Yandere Alien Butterfly~ 🦋

“P-Please! Please you have to-Ahh!” You sob, wincing and jerking as more of their invasive fingers inspect your body. It wasn’t a sob of pain either, oh anything but. You’ve been handed over for these insect aliens to inspect as a sort of treaty and well, they’re being /very/ thorough with you.

Their wings flutter here and there as they murmur and whisper to one another, you assume to speak about notes and what they’ve learned but you can’t help but notice the clipboards and tablets have been set aside for over an hour now, and they simply haven’t bothered to test anything more than your limits on pleasure.

Weren’t you supposed to be tested on with other items too? Wasn’t this more or less a death sentence from your oh so cowardly government?

“They react nicely when you press right here-” The one on the left states a bit louder, something you can actually comprehend, but you’re focus is cut off as they demonstrate what they mean-curling their fingers inside you just right and making your body pulse with pleasure once again, your eyes watering as they begin to more or less abuse that spot and make your muscles tense and shake.

You can’t even catch your breath as the one on the right nods their head, but moves to grab something off of the table beside them. “Yes but do you think their anatomy could handle someone of our size? I think this mating tool is about as large as one of us, shall we try it?”

Oh god you can’t even bring yourself to look up. You try to catch your breath while you can, laying back on the cold table bringing you back to your senses even if just slightly. You aren’t sure you want to know just how big that toy could be, your mind would simply break.

“Oh not to worry! They’re quite resilient creatures! But we do have to be careful, I like this one” one says, amused as they grab the item and flick the switch. “We have to be slow, humans can handle sizes better when relaxed and sedated. Our little specimen here should be able to take at least half before we run into any issues”.

Your walls flutter and pulse once again, and you hate your body for being so eager to start after finally catching your breath. It’s as if your instincts are trying to tell you to just lay back and give in, and really, you can’t fight that urge much longer. That buzzing sound only makes your legs want to squeeze together tighter, but not out of fear this time.

Oh you’re slowly becoming a mindless toy yourself aren’t you?

When the head of that large toy enters you, your breath catches and it can’t be helped when you arch up and brokenly cry, that stretch seemingly both painful and blissful. That vibration was only making your fingers and toes curl as the two aliens watched with rapt attention, slowly pressing the toy in deeper and deeper, listening to your feeble noises and adorable moans almost nonchalantly.

If it wasn’t for the heady scent in the air and the fact you could see their own members sliding out in arousal, you’d think they were genuinely bored with experimenting with you. You catch a glimpse between weak twists of your body, and those dangerous eyes hold something more primal than they did when you first entered the room.

They were doing this for more than just research, that’s for sure. You’re at their mercy until they get bored, if they even do.

“Go ahead. Climax. We know you have more in you, we’ve studied your vitals and liquids, you aren’t dehydrated yet” the one on the right bites out, eager and needy as he leans forward to turn the toys vibrations up. “You look so good like this, human. Stuffed and needy, begging to be bred and made into the perfect mate. You must feel so neglected if you’re this sensitive to what we use”

You can only manage a whimper, eyes rolling back as your breath catches and that thick, pulsing toy hammers inside of you. It’s no use in fighting it, you couldn’t fight the multiple other attempts either. You cave, body lurching and head lolling back as you cry out and loudly gasp for air, feeling your hole clenching down and trying to make sure that large toy doesn’t leave, milking it for all its worth as you rock your hips to ride out the fifth intense orgasm of the day.

The two butterflies coo and croon in your ear, you think they’re praising you even but everythings so blurry and sounds like it's underwater, you can’t make any of it out.

“Good job human, such a good job. That’s it, deep breaths…When your breathing is back to a stable condition let’s see if we can’t fit in the rest of the device. I’m sure you won’t disappoint us”.

(-Mommabean, hiya! Sorry for any typos! Anyway I hope you enjoyed, feel free to tell me what you thought!)

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere exophilia #mommabean #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon #yandere smut #yandere alien bugs #yandere alien butterflies #yandere aliens #yandere butterflies #experimentation tw #experimental torture tw

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lovegalor333 · 3 months ago

Text

lord please save her for me

paige bueckers x fem oc

story info • chapter one • chapter two

hello baddies! 💋⭐️ nsfw! smutttttt munch fingering all the good stuff cheating 😵‍💫 i don’t want to talk too much but my head is a mess lol and it has been for a while and i have zero motivation to write and everything i do write, i hate. lowkey wish i never started this but i will see it out until the end. love yall x

chapter three:

“i missed the way you taste.” paige mumbled into lenis core inbetween flicks of her tongue. she had leni sat on the couch, legs spread, face buried inbetween while she kneeled on the ground. one hand was planted firmly on lenis thick thigh and she squeezed it each time leni moved, trying to keep her in place. her other hand was tweaking and pinching lenis nipple and the petite girl groaned in satisfaction at paiges touch.

“fuck- i missed this feeling.” leni moaned, head falling back to rest on the couch.

“how much?” paige mused, the vibrations from her words making leni shudder, “s-so much.”

paige pushed up lenis legs so they were bent, feet on the couch, “hold your legs for me len.” paige instructed, placing lenis hands on her calves, keeping her spread out position in place.

her slender fingers teased at lenis folds, already dripping with arousal from paiges mouth, “don’t tease paige.” leni breathed, bucking her hips up needily. “i’ve thought about this everyday for the last year. having you like this again. legs open, pussy calling my name. i’ll tease until you’re crying if i want to.” leni had almost forgotten what paige got like during sex. it had been so long, paiges dominant ways had faded from her memory. but she missed it. salacious words and tight grips, the thought alone made the girls heart race.

paige didn’t tease for long, leaning down she let a glob of spit fall from her mouth straight onto lenis cunt. she spread the saliva around before gently pushing two fingers in. “fuckkk.” her movements started off slow and soft, basking in the feeling of lenis walls finally being around her again. but paiges head was spinning just as much as lenis. she had missed this so much, she didn’t want this moment to end. she wanted to go round after round, all day long.

she was quick to fasten her pace, squelching sounds and heavy breathing filling the room, “shit- keep going paige. don’t stop.” leni urged and she moved her hips, pushing herself further onto to paiges fingers. leni was losing the ability to hold her legs open, arms falling slack but paige didn’t care, she simply held lenis legs open herself as she continued driving into her. with a third finger now in the mix leni could feel the stretch and it made her toes curls and eyes screw shut, the feeling could only be described as euphoric.

“does she fuck you like this?” paige rasped, pressing her thumb to lenis clit. the girl was unable to speak, any words that wanted to come out were stuck in lenis throat and revealed themselves as chocked moans. “i said does. she. fuck. you. like. this?” paige repeated and with each word came a hammering to lenis g-spot. she shook her head giving the blonde some form of response but that didn’t satisfy paige, “say it. say it or you’re not cumming.”

“fuck paige, no!” leni gasps, “no one fucks me like you.” her thighs begin to shake as if speaking had somehow pushed her over the edge, any energy she was using to make this moment last and not finish too quick had gone. “anyone?” paige halts her movements, fingers stationary inside leni.

paige had been lenis first, she knew that and she took pride in it. she wouldn’t have cared either way, she wasn’t a slut shamer but there was something about knowing she was first girl person to touch leni, make her cum, have her screaming her name, that was personal to paige. she had assumed that leni had slept with riley but who else?

“how many people have fucked you since me?” paige asks leaving leni confused and chasing a high that was quickly subsiding. “what?” leni pants, looking down at a kneeling paige. “how many people have fucked you? been inside you but never made you feel the way i do?” she curves her fingers earning a short gasp, “jesus paige! i don’t know, two…three?” “including riley?” she curls her fingers again, “f-four.” “four people and i’m still number one?” “yes paige, fuck yes. you’ll always be number one. just let me cum…please.” leni begs throwing her head back in frustration.

“never forget it leni. never forget how i made you feel. how i make you feel. this pussy is mine, you understand?” leni knows better than to simply nod, “yes, paige.” “good girl.” and with that paige finds her stride again, ploughing into leni with no mercy.

she knew the girls body like the back of her hand. she knew what she liked and she was about to show her that she never forgot. dipping her head down, paige licked her lips before diving into leni sopping cunt. leni had an immediate reaction to paiges mouth, her thighs closing around her head. paige was encapsulated but she loved it, the wetness in her boxers only intensified the harder leni squeezed.

“shit paige- right there.” leni mewled and paige smiled into her cunt as she felt her tensing around her fingers. the moans spilling from the pretty girls mouth and the way her body twitched and writhed on the couch only spurred paige on. she sucked her clit into her mouth and pushed her fingers as deep as they could go. leni was incoherent at this point and paige was in her element.

“gonna- gonna cum paige.” leni choked out as she reached for paiges head. paige wanted to speak, she wanted to talk leni through it but she was trapped by the girls thighs, completely buried in her, she couldn’t breathe let alone talk but she made sure leni knew she was right there. linking her free hand into lenis she held it tight as the girl came undone on her face. thighs tightening, body shaking, a string of curse words being cried out.

paige basked in the reaction lenis body had to her. legs limp and quivering. chest heaving, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. “you’re so fucking hot.” the blonde expressed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, edging her way up until she was face to face with leni. she kissed her slowly, hands trailing up her sides as she did. “wanna feel you paige.” leni whimpered as her own hands found paiges waist band, pulling the string on her sweats to loosen them, “im all yours len, go ahead.”

leni and paige switched positions so paige was laid on the couch and leni tactfully pulled down her sweat pants and boxers and they pool at her ankles. leni was never a tease, she couldn’t resist, she didn’t have enough self control to take her time with paige. she pushed her fingers into her own mouth, making them slick enough to slide into paige, “shit len.” paige rasped as her eyes focused on the way leni moved her fingers inside of her.

lenis movements were precise and perfect and her fingers knocked into the gummy spot inside of paige over and over. her thumb rubs circles over paiges clit, making her blue eyes rolling in her head, “fuck leni, right there.” paige murmured and leni listened, focused and determined to make paige cum. “want you to cum for me p.” leni cooed, slipping another finger inside and paiges back arched at the stretch, “im gonna, dont stop.” the blonde begged and again, leni listened. her fingers continued to pound in and out, paiges wetness dripping down and onto the couch. her thumb work was nasty as it swirled and pressed on paiges swollen clit. the athlete had fucked multiple people since breaking up with leni, so many so she’d be embarrassed if leni asked her to put a number on it like she did her. but one thing paige knew for certain was, no one made her feel the way the curly haired girl in between her legs made her feel.

paiges heart was palpitating, stomach tensing and legs twitching as that familiar tightness built in her abdomen, “i can feel it paige, i know you’re close.” leni purred and she lowered her face to paiges cunt, sucking her clit into her mouth and thats all paige needed to push her over the edge. “fuck- im cumming.” she groaned out, latching onto lenis curly bun and pushing her face into her.

leni continued to ride paige through her high, tongue still swirling and fingers still hammering. leni could have continued until paige came again and again but her ringtone rang out from her phone on the coffee table and stopped her in her stride. before the brunette girl could see who was calling her, paige had her phone in her hand and swiped to answer the call, pressing the phone onto speaker and holding it out to leni. seeing rileys contact illuminate the screen made lenis jaw drop.

“hello, len? are you there?”

“uh huh, im here.” lenis voice was shaky as she glared at paige who just smirked back.

“im leaving work early baby, wanted to see if you needed me to bring you anything?” paige rolled her eyes at the use of the pet name and leaned forward so she could reach lenis hand that was just buried inside of her.

“um…no, i’m go-” leni couldn’t finish her sentence because paige had gripped her hand and pushed her wet fingers into her mouth.

“what len? are you ok?”

“mmhmm.” leni tried her best to talk while paige pushed her fingers deeper in her throat.

“you don’t sound it. lucky im coming over, i’ll look after you.” paige rolled her eyes again before hanging up the call and leni immediately pushed her away.

“that was fucked up!” leni fumed, standing up from the couch and pulling on her discarded panties and shorts.

“that was hot.” paige corrected her, also pulling up her boxers and sweat pants.

“paige thats my girlfriend and she on her way here. you need to leave…like now.” lenis quick change of character confused paige and the blonde girl frowned behind her glasses.

“leni. i just ate you out-“

“yeah, you still need to leave. you can’t be here when she gets back.”

“what is happening right now?”

“i don’t know paige. i never know what’s going on between us. you really need to go.” leni wrapped her blanket back around her and she walked to the door.

“have you not heard everything i’ve been saying? i ended it with camilla. i want you, len.”

“i heard you paige. i just need to think.”

“what the fuck was that then?” paige motions to the couch that her and leni were just on. images of their bodies on each other’s running through her mind.

“i don’t know paige. you’re like a drug. i can’t stop but it’s not good for me.”

“so you just fucked me, let me fuck you and now you’re going to play happy families with your girlfriend?” paige was raising her voice now, what was leni playing at?

“stop asking all these questions paige! i don’t know! i don’t what i’m doing! i don’t know what i’m thinking! please just leave.”

“i’ll leave but this isn’t it leni. i know i fucked up back then but i promise you, it’ll be different this time. just trust me, please.” leni was holding the door open, refusing to look at paige.

“give me time.” was all the girl said and paige didn’t argue, she simply kissed lenis cheek and walked out of the apartment.

closing the door behind paige, leni let out a frustrated breath, sinking down to the floor, she rested her head on her knees. she knew she had a decision to make but she had worked so hard to heal from paige and she wasn’t sure she could through that again but there was something about paige that had her in a chokehold. something so consuming and overwhelming that she couldn’t ignore it.

paige was equally as frustrated and confused. with her head rested on her steering wheel, her heart raced and her eyes stung, if she blinked, she was sure she would cry. and that’s how she knew this was different. paige bueckers had never cried over a girl. she’d never cared enough to be emotionally involved but leni was different. she was like no other and it scared paige but she was willing to look that fear in the eye if it meant she got to call leni hers.

thank u for reading baddies! as always let me know if u wanna be added to the tag list 💋

tag list: @unadulteratedcyclepaper @heart4caitlin @jadasogay @avvwritesstufff @bueckersp

story info • chapter one • chapter two

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wlw #lovegalor333 #lgbtq #fanfic #paige bueckers fanfiction #lord please save her for me #lpshfm #sophs works 🪽

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unconventional-lawnchair · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you’re taking requests from the rivals prompt list but if you are I was thinking these two fit perfectly with barty.

“When we’re done here, we can go back to hating each other. Deal?” “You’re not going to believe this, but I think I actually prefer things like this.”

“So, what are we? Friends? Rivals? Friendly rivals?” “Well, that kiss we just had might point to another option…”

Do You Some Good {Blurb}

Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

CW: Dubcon Kissing, bickering, closed spaces, Barty being a dick- reader too

WC: ~2k

AN: I am sorry I couldn't find a way to make the second quote to work properly 🫡

You crept through the stacks, heart hammering in your chest as you scanned the shelves for the book Madam Pince refused to let you check out; The Layman’s Guide to Active Practical Potioneering. Remus had been too proud to ask for help, but you’d seen how pale and shaky he looked after every full moon. You weren’t going to let him struggle alone- not if you could find something to ease the pain of his transformations.

Gripping your wand tightly, you muttered, “Lumos,” casting a faint glow over the spines of dusty, leather-bound books. Your fingers trailed along the gilded titles until you spotted it, tucked precariously on a high shelf. You stretched onto your tiptoes, fingers brushing the spine when

“Wow. Never thought I’d see the Gryffindor Golden Girl playing burglar in the Restricted Section. Recon I've seen it all now.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes even before turning to face him. Sure enough, Barty Crouch Jr. stood there, leaning against a bookshelf with that insufferable smirk plastered across his face. He looked completely at ease, like he belonged here, which only annoyed you further.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You shot back, placing one hand on your hip. “Plot world domination? Pick on a few first-years- oh, wait, is this the part where you monologue about how clever you are for catching me?”

Barty straightened, giving you an exaggerated, mock-hurt expression. “You wound me, darling. I don’t monologue. That’s for the villains in bedtime stories. I prefer to keep things… hands-on.”

You snorted, turning back to the shelf. “Congratulations. You’re the first person to make breaking and entering sound even more pretentious than it already is.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Pretentious or not, you’re the one getting caught. Should I summon Filch now, or do you want to grovel first?”

You spun to face him, your eyes narrowing. “And what exactly are yo doing here, Crouch? Collecting dark magic recipes for your villainous scrapbook?”

He shrugged, looking entirely unbothered. “Unlike you, I have permission to be here, darling.” He paused for effect, letting the smugness seep into his tone. “But please, do go on about my moral failings while you’re stealing from the Restricted Section.”

“Oh, shove it, Crouch.” You snapped, brushing past him. “You wouldn’t know morality if it hexed you in the face.”

“Morality.” He mused, stepping into your path, “is for people who don’t win. Which reminds me- you don’t even know what you’re looking for, do you?”

Your glare was enough to send most people running, but Barty just grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “As a matter of fact, I do,” you retorted, holding up the book triumphantly. “And you’re going to stay out of my way.”

“Right. Because you’re such an expert on potion-making,” he said, crossing his arms. “Let me guess; you’re going to throw random ingredients into a cauldron and hope it doesn’t blow up in Lupin’s face?”

The use of Remus’s name struck a nerve, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you mirrored his smug tone. “And here I thought you were just stalking me for the cliff notes, but no, you’ve got the whole story. Bravo. I’m impressed.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “You should be. I know exactly what I’m doing here, unlike you, who’s about five minutes away from making a mess you can’t fix. Want me to show you how it’s done?”

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, please. The day I take advice from you is the day I decide to believe you have a heart, Barty.” You sang his nickname so sarcastic and so bloody pretty, he thought. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You sure about that, love? Because I think you’re out of your depth.”

Your chin tilted up defiantly. “And I think you’re out of time. Do you hear that? That’s Filch, and he’s going to catch both of us if you don’t stop flapping your mouth and move.”

Barty cocked his head, listening for a moment, and sure enough, the faint sound of footsteps echoed through the library. He grabbed your wrist without hesitation, dragging you into the shadows of a nearby alcove.

Pressed close together, you glared up at him. “Let go of me.” Yoh hissed.

“Not until we’re safe,” he whispered back, his grin returning. “And I don’t mean from Filch.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart pounding more from the proximity than the danger. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am, saving your skin.”

“Saving me?!” You whisper-yelled, leaning closer. “If anything, you’re making this worse!”

Filch’s voice grew louder, and Barty’s smirk only deepened. “Relax, love. I’ve got it under control. Unlike you.”

Filch’s footsteps drew closer, the sound of his grumbling cutting through the heavy silence. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Barty’s smirk melted into something sharper, more decisive.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you, love.” He murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You barely had time to process his words before he tilted his head down and kissed you.

At first, your brain short-circuited, caught between shock and outrage. He actually had the audacity to-! But the noise of Filch muttering about “students sneakin’ about where they don’t belong” pulled you back into the moment. Your hands moved instinctively, clutching at his robes, unsure if you were about to push him away or keep yourself upright.

And then, something shifted.

The kiss wasn’t just a ploy to keep you quiet; it was… intense. Annoyingly good. Infuriatingly, maddeningly good. His lips were warm, insistent, and- Merlin help you- you found yourself kissing him back.

Barty’s hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed you further into the shadowed alcove. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a confidence that made your stomach flip. You hated him for it. Almost as much as you hated how your knees wobbled slightly under his touch.

Filch’s footsteps paused, his muttering fading for a moment. Your heart jumped into your throat, panic surging. But Barty only pulled you closer, as if the heat of the moment could hide you both from the threat entirely.

It worked. Filch grumbled something about “bloody cats” before his footsteps retreated. The tension in the air seemed to ebb slightly, but Barty didn’t pull back. Neither did you.

Eventually, the sound of silence returned, leaving only the quiet hum of your shared breath and the pounding of your heart. Finally, you shoved at his chest, breaking away with a sharp glare.

“What the hell was that?” You hissed, your face hot enough to rival the surface of the sun.

“A brilliant distraction,” Barty replied smoothly, his smirk making a triumphant return as if nothing had just happened.

“Oh, brilliant, was it?” You snapped, wiping your lips with the back of your hand, though the gesture felt half-hearted. “Is this your idea of helping?”

He leaned casually against the wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, we didn’t get caught, did we? I’d say it worked perfectly.”

You stared at him, torn between yelling and hexing him. “You kissed me.” You accused, your voice low and sharp.

“I did.” He agreed, looking completely unapologetic. “And, if I might add, you kissed me back. Enthusiastically.”

Your jaw dropped. “I-! That was not-!”

“Oh, it was, darling.” He stepped closer, his smirk softening into something dangerously charming. “You can keep pretending you didn’t enjoy it, but I was there. You weren’t exactly complaining.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat. Barty’s hand brushed against your wrist, his touch as infuriatingly gentle as it was deliberate.

“Tell you what.” He said softly, his voice teasing but laced with something more. “When we’re done here, we can go back to hating each other. Deal?”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let him see how rattled you were. “Deal,” you bit out, your voice steadier than you felt.

Barty moved forward again, leaving you to press your back against the wall. “Believe it or not,” He chuckled. “I think I quite prefer you like this.”

Barty’s grin widened, sharp and insufferable, as he lingered in the small space between you, the closeness feeling far more deliberate than necessary. His tone dipped, dripping with amusement as he added, “All flustered. A little breathless. It’s… cute.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, the urge to slap that grin off his face growing stronger with every word. “Cute?” You hissed, barely keeping your voice low enough not to alert Filch. “I’ll show you cute when I hex you into next week.”

He chuckled, infuriatingly at ease, and took a slow step back, as if giving you space was some kind of favor. “Now, now, let’s not resort to violence. We’ve already had our hands full tonight, haven’t we?” His gaze flicked to your lips, just for a second, before meeting your eyes again. “Besides, it’d be a shame to ruin our… collaboration.”

You glared, brushing past him with a sharp shove. “Collaboration? Merlin’s beard, you’re delusional. You ambushed me, kissed me, and somehow think that makes us a team.”

Barty followed at a leisurely pace, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, come on, darling. Admit it. You’d still be stumbling around in the dark if it weren’t for me.” He plucked the book from your hands before you could react, holding it just out of reach. “What’s in here, anyway? Something for your precious Lupin?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of Remus, but you refused to show weakness. “Give it back, Crouch,” you demanded, your voice deadly low.

He tutted, wagging the book teasingly. “Temper, temper. I’m just curious. You’re a Gryffindor, after all- so noble, so self-sacrificing. What could possibly be worth breaking the rules for? Risking your perfect little record?”

You lunged for the book, but Barty dodged easily, his laughter echoing softly in the restricted space. He glanced at the cover, raising an eyebrow. “The Layman’s Guide to Active Practical Potioneering.” His tone turned mocking. “Oh, how riveting. Let me guess- you’re planning to save the day again? What exactly are you planning to brew there, love?”

“It’s none of your business.” You snapped, trying again to grab the book. This time, he let you take it, his smirk never wavering.

“Touchy, aren’t we?” He mused, leaning against the nearest shelf. “I don’t know why you bother. Lupin’s a big boy; he can handle himself.”

You froze for a fraction of a second before stuffing the book into your bag. Was that jealousy in his tone? “You don’t know anything about him.”

“Maybe not,” Barty said casually, inspecting his nails. “But I do know you. You’ve got this little savior complex, don’t you? Always rushing in to fix everyone’s problems. It’s endearing, really.”

Your jaw tightened, his words cutting closer to the truth than you liked. “I’m not doing this for you or anyone else’s approval, so spare me your analysis.”

Barty pushed off the shelf, stepping closer once more. His voice softened, but his smirk remained. “Maybe not. But you should be careful, darling. All that heroics can get messy. And I’d hate to see you get in over your head.”

His tone was almost genuine, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then he gave you a wink, and the spell broke. “Don’t flatter yourself, Crouch. The only thing messy here is your personality.”

You turned on your heel, heading for the exit before he could see the faint blush creeping up your neck. His laughter followed you, echoing through the stacks. “See you around, darling. Don’t forget- if you need help, you know where to find me.”

You didn’t look back, but his words lingered long after you left the library, your heart still racing for reasons you refused to acknowledge.

Bloody git.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #mauraders era #hp marauders #mauraders #barty crouch jr x you #barty x reader #barty crouch x reader #barty crouch fanfic #barty crouch jr fanfic #barty crouch jr x reader #barty jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #bartemius crouch junior #bartemius crouch jr #Bartemius crouch jr x reader

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meraki-sunset · 7 months ago

Text

Motherfucker got rejected

I just read the entirety of The Book of Bill with my friends. We read it out loud in the darkness using a flashlight and signed all 4 of our names in it. Haven't laughed so hard in a while (and then almost cry, but that's later)

Heavily recommend it if you're a Gravity Falls fan.

Still recovering from Bill's backstory. Rambling ahead Heavy spoiler alert. He was loved, he was 12, he was the only one in his 2D universe able to see on 3D, he just wanted to show them the stars. And now he doesn't even remember what the fuck he did, only the chaos, the screams, his shaking hands covered in blood and then nothing at all, just a glitchy void in his memories and his universe being gone. And he carries the last spec of his dimension in his hat, and CONFIDED to Ford and showed it to him. And when Ford asked what killed his dimension, he froze before saying "a monster", he sees himself as that. Fuck. ALSO when giving the reader advice on how to seduce someone he said to (paraphrased) "lock them in a pyramid and sing to them until the fall for you" which is what he did to Ford, he also said to gift them rats, which he gave Ford too, the book is full of shit like that, motherfucker guided and interrupted the reader all the book but specifically never interrupted Ford's pages, and when threatening to kill him if he didn't open the portal, he gave him 3 days to do it, which ruined his plans in the end, and he said he doesn't know why he did that, but implying he did it because in some twisted way he cared, the same way he still offered him to join him during weirdmagedon even after the whole betrayal thing. And when Ford cut tied with him, he got hammered and asked the cashier, while heavily drunk, for "one sixer, please" and cried when they told them they had no idea what that was, later taking the phone from the cashier on a call with 911 to say (paraphrased because my book is in Spanish) "Hi, mom, it's billy, i want--- i'm coming back from school soon, remember to cut the crust of my sandwiches or i'm--- where did everyone go? WHERE-". His mom called him Billy, HE WAS BILLY, and since he was the Pines twins's age when he destroyed everything, he assumes he's just that age when talking to her, coming back from school. And now he's in therapy jail? And i don't get if he's totally dead or if he's a ghost, he aparently can reencarnate if he heals, but he fucking hates therapy jail, and he's getting desperate to get out, and he doesn't... look good. Can't believe i feel actually bad for the triangle. I'm- jeez, I can go on for hours. Bill Cipher having feelings (and a crush on Ford) was not on my 2024 bingo card, but i fucking love this book. God I missed that guy so much.

#random #this has nothing to do with this blog but whatever #book of bill #bill cipher #the book of bill

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ironstrange1991 · 5 days ago

Text

Affection

Pairing: Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,9k

Synopsis: A night at one of Tony's parties ends in a serious fight between you and Supreme and now he must find a way to make you forgive him.

Warnings: Use of the word "Whore", SMUT: prenetrative sex, angry sex, orgasm denial.

A/N: This one was supposed to be a brain rot smut, but I ended up developing the emotional part much more than the smut itself, however I really liked the result and I also thought it matched the inspiration that was the song. it is within the Multiple Stephens universe because I needed to include Defender Strange for plot reasons. I hope you like it and have a good reading ;)

Supreme Strange was a affectionate man. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or the most attentive. He definitely wasn't as sweet as Defender or as understanding as the good doctor, but he prided himself on being a affectionate boyfriend. To his own standards. Sure, he used to get a little mean when he got jealous and you said he had a sharp tongue when he drank, but so what, right? Saying I love you or go fuck yourself were two ways of saying he cared, it was affection all the same.

He sighed, checking his phone for the tenth time that morning alone, acknowledging that maybe he had crossed the line in the last fight you had. Just a little. You refused to talk to him, you didn't answer his texts, and you were clearly waiting for a formal apology, but he wasn't the least bit inclined to do so once he knew that, even though he had crossed the line in his reaction, he had every right to be angry.

It all started at one of Tony Stark's parties. The night had started off really well, the three Stephens were there, you were happy about that because it wasn't common for the three of them to go out with you. You both had drunk that night. Stephen and Defender not much, but he had drunk a lot and you had allowed yourself a few glasses of champagne. You danced, to electronic music, which he hated, but at the time it seemed fun, you kissed, you made love in one of the tower's rooms - although making love wasn't exactly the name he would give to what you did there - and everything was fine until he saw you full of smiles and looks with Thor Odinson. You were friends, he understood that, but from friends to what he was witnessing there was a huge distance. You were practically sitting on the Asgardian's lap while you idiotically tried to lift his damn hammer. - And Supreme found himself wondering if you weren't trying to lift something else from the Norse god. It was indecent and ridiculous and he found himself wondering why the others weren't as outraged by the scene as he was. They both just watched the scene from afar and laughed and talked to each other like the good friends they were.

In the end, Supreme couldn't contain himself, much less hide his displeasure with the allegedly innocent joke, and a minute later he was dragging you by the arm to the huge balcony of the building and hurling every kind of accusation and insult that his dirty mouth could muster.

"I can't believe you're saying that!" You replied indignantly and slightly offended.

"Oh no? That's because you can't know what I'm thinking." He spat back, "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you looked there? As if having three cocks isn't enough for you. Do you need another one?"

"You're drunk," you accused, and your eyes filled with tears, but he didn't let them move him.

"I'm not the one embarrassing myself for everyone to see. You should be ashamed of yourself acting like a fucking whore." He said, and your answer came too quickly for him to defend himself. You slapped him hard in the face and then raised your fists against his chest, striking him while you gave in to your tears and rage.

"You bastard, I hate you. I fucking hate you." You said it over and over until he grabbed your hands and pushed you against the wall, keeping you trapped there and making you look at him.

“You're mine, do you understand? Fucking mine!" He shouted and then kissed you roughly. Too roughly. His kiss, always full of love and passion, felt more like an assault to him, and he liked it.

You tried to fight him, but there wasn't much your small frame could do against his muscular body other than surrender, and that's exactly what you did, and somehow he knew that was where he really hurt you, when he made you see the power he had over you. But you kissed him back, even if you were angry, and it was impossible to know if the night would have ended differently if the two of you hadn't been interrupted by Defender Strange. Always him. The good Samaritan.

"Supreme, let her go." He heard him say just as he had taken your lips by force again and you were giving in. "You're drunk and you're hurting her."

Supreme could have started a fight right there, but he just stepped away, looking at his other self with disdain. "If you were half the man you think you are, you would be as offended as I am by that deplorable scene." He accused.

"Because I'm a better man than you are, I know there was no malice on either side. They were just having fun, and you would know that if you weren't so sickly jealous."

"Because I love her." He said through gritted teeth.

"Because you confuse love with possession," Defender replied and Supreme felt an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face, but he just walked right past them both, walked back to the lounge, grabbed his suit jacket that was hanging on the chair and left.

When he woke up the next morning his head felt like it was going to explode and the memories of the fight seemed distant and to some extent not a big deal, but when you didn't look him in the face during breakfast, he understood. Three days later he was checking his cell phone waiting for you to answer the countless texts he had sent just that morning while he was confined in the compound waiting for the Avengers meeting to end. He was leaving on a mission with Barton, Rogers and Romanoff in a few days and he didn't want to leave things as they were, but deep down he knew he had messed up terribly with you, even his narcissistic ass understood that his reaction wasn't normal and the fact that everything had happened at a Stark party, in front of your friends, only made things worse for him.

...

You were tired and it wasn't even noon yet. To be honest, you had no idea how you would get through that day and your mind kept playing with excuses to get up, grab your things and leave the office. Your cell phone wouldn't stop buzzing with texts from Supreme, each one more eloquent than the last and you knew their pattern well. First he would apologize saying that he had overreacted, then he would blame you for something you hadn't done, then he would say that even if you hadn't done anything wrong, you should avoid that kind of situation once you knew him and knew he would be angry. Again, he would blame you, but then he would apologize for the overreaction he had, and the cycle would go on and on.

He was so different from the other Stephens that sometimes you wondered if it was possible for them to be the same person. Stephen would never treat you like that. Defender would never talk to you like that, but Supreme always found a reason to take out all his frustrations on you and you hated him in those moments, but you couldn't help but love him in all the others.

"Y/n? Did you hear what I said?" You heard Phil saying and were dragged back to your reality inside the office, to the sound of the extremely loud air conditioning, the incessant typing on the keyboards of the computers in the booths next to yours, the hurried footsteps and the ringing of the phones.

"I'm sorry." That was all you said and he stared at you for a minute, rolling his lips and then repeated the question.

"The Link Dynamics files? I need to deliver everything to their lawyer this afternoon. Tell me you didn't forget!"

Of course you forgot. "Of course not! I'll finish reviewing them. I’ll bring them to your desk in a minute."

Phil's worried frown turned into a wide smile "You're the best, Y/n." He said and left.

To some extent, the desperation to finish your work in time for the 1pm meeting helped you forget about the issue with your problematic boyfriend and thus you managed to avoid the intrusive thoughts that told you to run away from work and lock yourself inside your room to watch bad TV shows and eat junk food.

By the end of the afternoon there were at least twenty texts that you didn't bother to read and when you got home the Sanctum was silent and your chest was enveloped by warmth when you smelled food coming from the kitchen indicating that Defender had already arrived. You took off your shoes and left your bag and keys on top of the sideboard and followed the smell to the kitchen where you found him distracted by the stove.

You didn't bother to announce your arrival, instead you approached and wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his back.

"Hi there" He chuckled, stroking your arm lightly and continued with his work. "Long day?"

"You have no idea." You groaned.

He hummed, finishing stirring what looked like a very juicy and fragrant stew. "Since you’re here, taste it for me and help me decide if it needs anything else." He asked, gently turning and bringing the spoon to your mouth, his other hand under the spoon to make sure not a drop would stain your white blouse. It was a fish stew and although you hadn't seen it, you could taste the potatoes and carrots, as well as paprika, thyme, garlic and olives perhaps. You hummed, slowly savoring it and then pretended to think for a second. "More salt, perhaps." You finally said and he raised his eyebrow.

"Really? That's not what I had in mind. I thought more pepper."

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine as it is. It’s just that you know me, I like my food with a little extra salt.”

He smirked. “I guess a pinch wouldn’t hurt.” He turned and added a pinch of salt to the stew and stirred it gently and you found yourself staring at him. He looked gorgeous, even though he looked completely normal. He wore black sweatpants and a gray long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair was tied back in its usual ponytail and his feet were bare. You loved it. Seeing him in his most natural, domestic form, doing normal things like cooking. The image always made your heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t expect you to cook tonight. I thought you’d be tired. I was already deciding between having a sandwich for dinner or ordering something.” You confessed, watching as he turned off the heat on the pot and removed a pan of gratin vegetables from the oven. He carefully placed it on the counter. "I was anxious. You know how I get before missions. I thought it would be a good idea to have a proper dinner before I go."

You couldn't hide the pout you made, and he smiled at you quickly. "I'll be back in three days." You crossed your arms. "The last time you said that you were gone for almost two weeks."

He let out a small laugh. "I know, but this time is different. I have no reason to believe something so big could happen to keep me away for so long."

You nodded, still reluctant. "I still wish you didn't go."

"Me too." He confessed and dedicated himself to setting the table and you smiled watching him arrange each plate and dish in its proper place. He was always meticulous in this matter and you found it super charming. Although the Sanctum had a beautiful dining room, you were used to eating in the kitchen. It was spacious enough and had a certain comfort that the sterile living room lacked. The smaller table could seat six people, but Defender was used to always setting out four plates. That night, however, he hesitated when setting out the fourth, but did it anyway.

You sighed as you watched him finish arranging everything and finally gave in to the matter that hung over you like a gray cloud.

"I know I can't leave things as they are, but I don't know how to move on as if nothing had happened."

He finished setting out the cutlery on the table and then rolled his lips, thinking of the best way to say what he was thinking.

"Say it."

"He's not gonna change, baby. We've been at this too long to understand that this is just the way he is, and I can say that for sure because he is me."

You shook your head. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that. You would never talk to me like that."

"But the man I was would. I've evolved, baby, I've gotten better with time and pain, but Supreme is the way he is, and you've always known that. You were already irritated with him from the start, remember? But you fell in love with him anyway."

You lowered your eyes because you couldn't bear to look him in the eye. 'Because he's you and you're Stephen.'

"Yes, I know. We are Stephen and I’m pretty sorry for that" He said nodding. “You know I don’t blame you for falling in love with him. I just need you to understand that he is the way he is since the beginning and we don’t have any reason to believe he’s gonna change.”

Somehow you felt guilty about the situation you had put yourself in at that party. Even though there was no malice in the joke with Thor, you had a few more glasses of champagne than you should have and that affected your judgment. Sober you would never put yourself in that situation knowing that Supreme was there watching you and by understanding that things didn’t get any easier.

"It's just... I hate him sometimes." You confessed, feeling the weight on your chest intensifying.

"But you love him anyway." Defender finished. "It's okay to admit it. I know. I always knew, since day one."

"What should I do then? I can’t pretend nothing happened." You asked, genuinely lost, but he just smiled politely.

"Rule number 16, baby."

You sighed. "You guys can't interfere when I get into a fight with another Stephen."

"Exactly. And I think I interfered too much that night, but I don't regret it, tough. I just can't tell you what you should do. However, I can tell you what I wish you wouldn't do."

You waited.

"Let him go on a mission without you guys having resolved this."

You stared at him, understanding very well where he was going with this. If something happened and Supreme got hurt, you would never forgive yourself. "Now I hate him even more." You sighed and Defender came closer, pulling you to nestle into his chest. "Love and hate are awfully close, baby. Now, let’s forget this matter for a bit so we can enjoy our meal together. What do you think?"

You nodded and he smiled contentedly, gently lifting your chin to kiss you. He did it slowly, just a touch of lips that lingered over time and made your knees go weak. It was how he got everything from you. Gently and lovingly. With Defender Strange things were always that way.

When your lips parted you let out a little moan and then confessed "I love when you kiss me like that."

He frowned "Like what?"

"Like you. Soft and gentle. You can get anything from me like that, Defender Strange."

He let out a little laugh "You think I'm soft, huh?"

You smiled feeling your face blush "Only with me. Outside you are a feared and highly respected sorcerer."

"Okay, good to know I can keep the appearances." He hummed contentedly and then kissed you again the same way.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you're super sweet."

"Thank you, baby." He said, smirking and kissing you one more time before pulling away and ordering, "Now I think it's best if you go upstairs and change. We don't want the food to get cold."

You nodded, reluctantly pulling away from him.

"While you're at it, tell the doctor that dinner is ready. He should be in the library." He asked.

“Okay” You said walking away.

...

Supreme was distracted on the phone, confirming the last details of the mission when he heard a knock on the door. He had gotten out of the shower and was in front of the mirror, gathering the courage to shave when he was interrupted by the call from his fellow Avenger, and they had been on the phone for several minutes. Since he took a while to answer, he heard the sound of the bedroom door opening and a voice calling him, but he didn’t bothered to answer.

"I believe everything is fine, but if you have any questions, you can call me later, Romanoff." He said, hanging up the phone.

"Supreme" Defender called and he threw the towel in the sink, giving in to laziness and leaving the bathroom.

"Dinner is ready. I thought you would want to eat with us instead of here." Defender informed, entering the room.

Supreme shook his head. "I don't want to be where I'm not welcome." He said simply. In the last few days, you had refused to sit at the table with him and that had broken his heart deeply, but he understood, or at least he was making a huge effort to understand.

"She's still mad at you. God knows she has her reasons, but she's not okay with the way things are." Defender sighed. "She misses you. Just apologize and get it over with, Supreme."

He stared at his feet for a few seconds. "I really messed up, didn't I?"

Defender chuckled nervously, "That's what you always do. You let your emotions speak louder than reason. It's amazing how different we are in that way. I have so much trouble acting with my heart instead of my head, but with you it's all the time."

Supreme sighed heavily, putting both hands on his hips, his head still down, and then nodded, glancing at Defender regretfully. "I love her. I'm jealous of her. When I saw her..." He stopped, shaking his head to rid himself of the memory. "I know I should control it, but I can't. She's mine” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Ours. She is ours. This... I can understand this thing we have because it's us, but when any other man gets close to her, I just lose my mind."

Defender nodded, "She loves us, Supreme. There is no one else. But we need to treat her much better. You need to treat her much better, Supreme. What you did... the things you said to her were unacceptable."

"I just said it, I wasn't thinking straight..."

"You called her a whore."

Supreme looked at him in surprise "I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You hurt her. She told me."

"Of course she did." There was no way to refute that. Defender was right as always and Supreme wanted to go back in time to erase that horrible night, but he couldn't do that. He needed to deal with the consequences of his actions.

"Say you are sorry." Defender ordered with his authoritative tone that always made Supreme's blood boil in his veins.

"Do you really think I haven't done that before?"

"Do it again. Say it like you mean it. Say it bluntly, without apologies, without blaming her for something you did because that's what you always do!"

Yeah, there was no way to refute that either.

"Why do you even care?"

Defender sighed, "I told you. She loves you and misses you. That's why." He said, turning to leave the room. “I just can’t stand to see the sadness in her face.”

Supreme went back to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked fine. His defined chest and visible biceps were a source of pride for him. After all, the hours he spent at the Compound gym listening to bad music had to be paid for somehow, but at that moment all he could see were the bags under his eyes resulting from sleepless nights. He knew Defender was right and he was wrong, and that was hard for him. His narcissism made everything about him, you said, but what you didn't know was that being like he was could hurt him a lot.

When he finally went down to dinner, he found you and the other Stephens already eating. Apparently, Defender had cooked that night and you were all delighted with him, giving little compliments while humming with each bite of food.

"I mean it. That's the most delicious flounder I've ever had in my life." You said, which made him almost roll his eyes, but he held himself back.

"You're still here. I thought you'd already left." Doctor Strange said as Supreme sat in the place reserved for him and right in front of you.

"Tomorrow. We're still working out some details." He answered while serving himself.

"What's the situation?" The doctor asked.

"Possible misuse of ancient magical artifacts in southern Russia. Some people died in unnatural ways, which caught the attention of the Avengers. They could be relics, which I doubt."

"I remember Wong saying he has an inventory of all the magical relics on this planet so if one go missing he would know." Defender confirmed. "Whatever it is, it's not sorcery."

Supreme took a forkful of food and had to hold back his satisfaction. It was indeed delicious and somehow that only made him feel even worse. How was it possible that one of them knew how to cook so well and the other two could barely boil water to make spaghetti?

"Witchcraft, perhaps. We've faced things like this before." Doctor Strange guessed. "You could ask Maximoff for her opinion."

"No, I can handle it." He said, glancing subtly at you. You were eating in silence now, but you must have been staring at him because your eyes met, and he could see your cheeks turn pink before you looked away.

Doctor Strange shook his head. "It's up to you, but dealing with witchcraft can be dangerous." "No. It's fine with me. I've dealt with plenty of witches in my universe." He bragged and then sipped from his glass of the white wine Defender had chosen for the evening. An excellent choice, to say the least.

Stephen didn't press the issue, but you looked directly at Supreme for the first time that day and spoke visibly irritated. At that point he suspected that the sound of his breathing was enough to irritate you. "Let's hope your arrogance doesn't get you killed one of these days, Stephen. I honestly don't know how you can stand yourself."

That hurt.

"Come on doll, don't be like that." He found himself begging as he watched you stand up and threaten to leave the table. The idea that you would rather give up such a delicious meal than endure being in his presence was devastating to him.

"Don't call me like that!" You almost yelled at him, which made him snap too.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He almost shouted the words, standing up as well. "I'm sorry. I hurt you and said things I shouldn't have. I overreacted and it wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. I'm so sorry."

He couldn't believe how saying those words felt like it lifted a weight off his chest. He needed this as much as you did, apparently.

However, it took you so long to show any reaction that the relief was quickly replaced by the fear that he had somehow managed to make everything even worse. You just stood there staring at him. The other Stephens didn't dare say anything. Supreme was pretty sure they were barely breathing for fear of breaking some stupid rule of theirs by interfering. "Honey... I love you. Please, talk to me. Forgive me. It wasn't your fault, it was my fault and my fault alone and I'm sorry for saying otherwise and I'm sorry for being the way I am, but please, I can't take this anymore. I miss you." Your reaction to his words was so abrupt that he barely realized what you were doing when you ran and went around the table and then threw yourself into his arms. The next thing he knew, he had your head in his hands and was kissing every inch of your face, forehead, eyes, nose, cheek and only then did he kiss your sweet lips and the little moan you let out when he deepened the kiss made his whole body tingle.

"Finally" he heard one of the Stephens say softly.

"Why did it take you so long to say it?" You asked against his lips.

"Because I'm a fool." He heard himself say and then pulled you back to his lips.

...

There were so many types of sex and you loved every single one of them. Lazy sex, when you woke up in the morning together and could afford to stay in bed late. It was usually slow and unpretentious. There was also homecoming sex, when Stephen came back from a mission after being away for weeks. It was always hard and desperate and full of sweat and saliva. Midnight sex, when one of you woke the other up to make love, sometimes it ended in cockwarming and both of you fell asleep without cumming, but that was never the goal.

That particular night you were introduced to a different form of sex, one that everyone talks about but that you had never experienced: Makeup sex.

You barely realized how you got to the bedroom. One minute you were eating dinner and the next you were devouring Supreme's mouth as he slammed the door behind you and you jumped on his lap. A moment later you were both naked and he was directing his cock at your entrance.

He wasn't gentle, actually, the thing about makeup sex is that it's not gentle. There's too much feeling involved and a desperate need to satisfy a pent-up desire.

"Shit, honey..." he cursed through his teeth as he finally buried himself inside you. The stretch was welcome and before he could say anything that would ruin the moment, you shut him up with another kiss, using the situation to your advantage to take control of the kiss. You used the support of your hands on his shoulders to bounce on his dick and your eyes rolled back with pleasure and you found yourself confessing on his lips.

"Oh I missed this. I missed you."

He groaned contentedly holding you by the ass and helping you move up and down on his cock, but a minute later he was throwing you on the mattress and coming on top of you. He entered you quickly and your legs locked on his hips while your nails dug into the skin of his back. He forced himself against you like a desperate man, it was something primal and delicious and your body responded to each thrust with the same desperation, producing more and more of that wetness that made him slide inside you with frightening ease and at the same time made an obscene squelching and wet sound.

"Fuck" He rasped between your lips "You're so fucking wet for me, honey. Feels so good."

You just hummed in response, at that point your mind was completely incapable of formulating a sentence, your heart was racing and there were so many emotions involved.

"I missed you so much. I'm sorry, love. I promise I will be better. I just... was so jealous. I am so jealous of you all the time and when I saw..."

"Shut up, Stephen" You said using all your strength to push him off of you. He didn't resist, he just rolled over on the bed and let you go on top of him. You slid him inside you again, taking control with a certain desperation and he allowed it. Supreme was not submissive, in fact he never allowed himself to be in a position where he was not in control, but that night he did not hesitate to let you ride him and you did it with force, with anger, with something more than just the pleasure you felt. It was as if by subjugating him like that you were making up for everything he had put you through in the last few days.

It didn't last long. And you didn't care. Your eyes closed, feeling the familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach and you didn't fight against it, you kept moving, grinding against him like an animal in heat as sweat ran down your neck and your breathing became labored and labored. The muscles in your thighs ached with the intensity of your movements, but you didn't care either, you needed to keep going, you needed your release, you needed that sweet catharsis to wash your soul and body and maybe then you could leave everything that happened behind. Sex as a cure. When the knot finally broke you let out a moan so loud that you knew anyone inside the Sanctum could hear it, the orgasm so strong it felt like you were going to pass out right there. It was over. You were his and he was yours and love had healed everything. Love would always heal everything.

...

Stephen had never felt that way before. It was easy to say that he had never seen you act that way before. The way you used him to reach your high was almost offensive, as if he was nothing more than a cock you could rub yourself against until you got what you wanted and that should have made him angry, but on the contrary, it was fucking hot. Maybe, and just maybe, he could understand the appeal that submission had with Defender. It was sexy with you.

However, when he realized that when you were done you simply dismounted him and threw yourself on the bed without giving him the chance to join in that bliss with you, he understood. The sex hadn't been for him, and you still hadn't said you had forgiven him.

You lay there in silence, and he chuckled nervously feeling his dick throb in protest. He ran a hand over his face and then turned to look at you and there were tears in your eyes and his heart broke into pieces knowing that it was his fault.

"I never meant to make you mad, you know? I was joking. Thor is like a brother to me. All of them..." You stopped as your voice broke and then took a deep breath before continuing. "They're my friends."

He was silent for a minute. All the adrenaline from the unfinished sex was quickly fading and replaced by remorse. "I know."

You wiped a tear that ran down the side of your face and then smiled at him, and the smile was sad. "There is only you, Stephen."

It wasn't easy for someone like him to admit when he was wrong, but in that moment, Supreme understood how cruel his behavior was and how he always managed to hurt you even when he knew you were the person he loved most in the world. How fucking contradictory could that be? His stomach churned with self-disgust, but he took a deep breath and cupped your cheek gently and pulled you in for a kiss. Soft, slow, completely unlike the sex had been, but with the same intensity of emotion involved. When your lips parted he could feel his eyes wet with tears he refused to shed and he was finally ready to tell you how sorry he was for everything when you covered his mouth with your fingertips and smiled.

"I know. I don't want to talk about what happened anymore, I just want to stay here with you. Please."

And how could he deny that? So he pulled you into his arms and you eagerly snuggled into his chest while he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its delicious scent. You were so sweet, so fragile and at the same time so strong. There was nothing he could say to explain how much he loved you, he just hoped you could see it in his gestures. Even the bad ones.

You were silent for a few minutes. The orgasm that had been denied to him long forgotten. His blackened fingers continued to slide slowly down your arms and you drew circles on his chest with your nails. It was comfortable and intimate, and he didn't know anything better than that.

It was you who broke the silence after several minutes. Your fingers were now playing around his lips as if outlining a goatee that wasn't there.

"You need to shave." You said and there was a hint of irritation in your voice that was almost comical, and he couldn't help but tease you about it.

"I really don't get it. I thought you liked men with beards. You live with two of them, after all."

You tsked petulantly as if it was obvious what you needed to explain.

"I like beards, not stubbles. They itch and give me allergies. And besides, they give an air of sloppiness that doesn't suit you. I'm used to seeing you always impeccable and I like it. It must be the only good thing about your narcissism."

Ouch. You could have forgiven him - though you refused to say so - but he knew it would take you a while to let it go completely. Either way, he deserved it. Whatever treatment you decided to give him, he deserved it.

"I'll shave in the morning," he said obediently.

You hummed and went silent again for a long time, long enough for him to notice your breathing becoming more regular and low and your body weighing more in his arms and just like that he knew you had fallen asleep. He stared at the ceiling with a relieved smile on his lips, but the relief was contained and he found himself remembering a random moment from last week, but at that moment as he replayed it in his head it gained a new meaning. You and he were in the living room, it was Sunday, his day to be with you and you had decided to spend that time together at home instead of going out. You had dinner and were watching a movie sprawled on the couch. His head was in your lap while you stroked his hair. It was a normal and routine moment, but Stephen passed by you and observed the scene with a disapproving look and teased "You don't deserve her."

At the time he responded with an ironic "Fuck off", but when he remembered, after everything that had happened in the last few days and everything that had happened in his universe, Supreme knew it was true. He didn't deserve you.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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bloodyinkandquill · 6 months ago

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Ban Hammer x Reader

it is two am, istg do not write on this until the morning me, i will hate you i have to be up in five hours let’s go to bed

ok i didn’t write this but i did stay up another hour and a half listening to a true crime podcast so…

- You’d think dating a 6’11 demigod who owns the most secure prison in Inpherno would not be on someone’s to-do list, but for you it was different, you knew him more than just the fearsome warden, to you he was your lover and honestly, a bit of a big softy

- Ban Hammer was big, he knew that, really strong too, so he was more than just a little afraid of hurting you, especially if he had his big and sharp armor on, he liked being physically affectionate, but he did worry about hurting you, so he’d wait until he’d taken off his armor you hug you, which did sort of feel like being swallowed whole since he’s such a large man, but it felt safe and warm so you never minded it

- He was gruff and tough but after a long day he enjoyed just laying face down the couch as you stroked his head pulling it to rest on your lap, he’d just lie there as you tried to convince him to get up, take off his armor, get some water, etc, he’d grumble about it but eventually get up

- Hope you like golf, he loves taking you to go golf, he’d never admit this but it’s mostly because when he does good you tell him how great of a shot he was and other junk like that and he enjoyed the praise, if you didn’t like golf he wouldn’t mind you sitting back as long as you were there together, and you were paying attention to him, he may be your boyfriend but he’s very clingy like a puppy, he also loved receiving praise from you, he already thinks very highly of himself but hearing you say those things feels even better to him

- He’d probably take you on very fancy dinner dates, to those really nice restaurants, though you have to make the reservations because he can be a little high strung and will demand certain things like a good seat, or a discount, so to avoid him getting mad at some poor waitress you make them for the both of you

- Like mentioned he’s super cuddly and snuggly, he loves just holding you as he sleeps, or sitting very close to you to the point he’s practically on top of you, you sometimes have to tell him that’s he’s crushing you, he moves immediately and feels bad, you tell him it’s fine but how about you sit on him instead

- Unironically uses sorta cheesy pet names, you’d expect him to be more creative with it but I feel like he’d use ‘baby, babe, sweetheart, etc’ though something funny he does is he has his voice and then his warden voice, loud and commanding to demand respect and fear, sometimes he forgets to turn it off when he gets home so he gets home and says in a gruff unamused voice ‘babe i’m home!’ to the point it sounds sorta angry, you crack up and he clears his throat before saying it snot that funny, as you’re doubling over in laughter

- The first time you met Windforce was terrifying, he loved you but he loved his mom more, if she said she didn’t like you that would be it, and if you pissed her off you feared her wrath, luckily she thought you were fine, obviously she has a distaste for mortals but you make her boy happy so she puts up with you, maybe not fully liking you but she doesn’t mind you, as long as you don’t annoy her she doesn’t care

- Thought meeting Windforce was scary? One time Ban Hammer said his whole family was having a dinner party, Firebrand organized it trying to keep the family all together and connected, and Ban Hammer wanted to bring you to meet all his uncles and few cousins, you didn’t wanna say no but holy shit you were terrified, you were about to meet literally the entirety of the SFotH, which was definitely intimidating, luckily they all at the very least didn’t dislike you, and you got to meet Flipside which was cool, but holy shit when you go home you let out the biggest breath ever since you were so on edge the whole time

hope you enjoyed! had fun writing it and thinking of all this junk, anyways до свидания!

#x reader #phighting #phighting x reader #phighting!#ban hammer x reader #banhammer x reader #phighting ban hammer #ban hammer phighting #banhammer phighting #phighting banhammer

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dreamingofbucky · 2 years ago

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IS IT TOO LATE?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: He casted you back to your universe. But now he's back and you don't know why. you thought he hated you for the longest time. But that's furthest from the truth.

tags/content warnings: very much angst. heart strings will be pulled at. consensual smut. p in v. love confessions. soft!miguel. fangs are used for pleasure. begging. size kink. praise, like tons of it. mig and reader healing themselves together.

Word Count: 4.2k (whoops)

author’s note: not beta read. mild midnight miguel thots. more angst though with a very happy ending. idk i was in my feelings lol

You could sense him close to you. You always did, even despite your spider senses.

It was like he’s infected himself into you even years later, unable to get him out of your system.

You were in your kitchen, putting away some dishes when you got the feeling of him being near. It was like a prickle at your neck that grew and grew until every hair on your body rose. You whipped your head around the kitchen and narrowed your eyes to find him. You couldn’t though, he was always good at hiding himself.

“Miguel?” Your voice drifted throughout your apartment. It fell flat though and a sigh wringed out of your throat once you realized he wasn’t there anymore.

But then your spine stiffened to its own accord and you whipped your head this time toward the hallway. You grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands before you made your way. You weren’t on guard, but you kept the towel on your shoulder just in case. Your spider strength would probably work just fine, but you didn’t know what he’d want.

“Miguel? I know you’re here, somewhere,” you called out again with more tenacity in your voice.

There was a creak in the living room and you increased your pace until you were at the entrance, flicking on the light that flooded the room. He wasn’t hiding. He was in the corner, staring at a photo on top of your fireplace.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, fingers reaching for the towel on your shoulder.

His broad shoulders slumped for a moment before he finally turned. He was in his blue and red suit, the one you knew very well. He looked better than the last time you saw him. His face though, was contorted in an expression you couldn’t read.

“I–uh, I’m not sure why I came,” he finally mumbles.

You take a step forward and tread lightly. It’s been four years, so you really didn’t know why he came. This was his decision anyway, to leave you and keep you at a distance.

“It’s been years,” you remind him. He finally turns completely and his brown eyes gleam red a little and then fade back to the rich color you once loved.

The man you once swore you loved forever, until he didn’t. Your heart tugged at the memories of what you and Miguel had. Attempting to push those thoughts away to keep yourself from spiraling like before, you clear your throat.

He finally replies. “I had to see you.”

No reason. Nothing else. Just those five words.

You take another step forward and he does too.

“You can’t just come here without an explanation,” you pushed. Your irritation was starting to increase and your patience was starting to thin for your ex.

Miguel is quiet as he stays grounded. But your senses heightened when he lifted his hand and turned his wrist toward you. Before you could react in time, a bright orangish red web shot out of his wrist and latched onto your chest. You grunt as he pulls you into him, closing the distance. You grab the string of the web and pull it off your shirt, but it's stuck.

“Miguel,” you bite. A smile curls at his lips before a talon comes out of his pointer finger and he snips the web.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

“You’re here, because?” You press again. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you were hoping he’d tell you what he needed you for.

“Spider Society misses you.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sure they do,” you quip.

It wasn’t your choice to leave them. To go back to your universe and live out your days. It was Miguel who pushed you to this point.

You even got engaged two years ago to who you thought you could live the rest of your days with. And then things took a turn. Things didn’t work out. He felt like you were stunted by him in this universe. Although you still did your best to be the Spider-Woman your universe needed, it wasn’t enough.

It was like the action of Miguel casting you out back to your universe made you lose your spark. Made you less of who you were meant to be.

You hate him for it. Well, you did the first year before you started to make a life for yourself here. It didn’t work out, obviously.

The thing was, you never really understood why Miguel did what he did. It was so quick, so sudden, casting you out. You thought you were doing well in Spider Society. You made friends, you aced missions. So what did you do wrong? You even loved him to your best ability.

Was it because you couldn’t put universes first before anyone else in your life? Miguel was so bent up on the idea that sacrifices had to be made when it came to being Spider-Man. Guess that included you.

You were a sacrifice he had to make for a reason you still didn’t know.

“Just wanted to check in, see how you were,” he says in an almost whisper. He drops his gaze to your lips and you gulp. No, you couldn’t feel like this for him. Not anymore.

You lift your hand and press your palm to his chest. He looks at it before his brows furrow. His hand then reaches over and caresses yours. His fingers fiddle with your ring finger.

“Your ring, what happened? Where is it?”

You sigh, attempting to turn on your heel and get away from him but his fingers move to your wrist to keep you there. You knew he’d know about you getting engaged. You got your spider senses alerted whenever he was near the first two years you were gone. You knew he was checking up on you frequently. Until he stopped. He didn’t know the engagement was broken off and you lived alone in that small apartment.

“Miguel, let me go.”

He doesn’t budge, so you press your other palm against his chest for leverage but he doesn’t move an inch. Your emotions are getting heightened from it all and you can feel tears start to spring into your eyes. You feel pathetic.

“What happened?” He repeats, his eyes turning soft and curious.

“Nothing happened. You happy?”

“No–” he shakes his head. “Tell me.”

You sigh, not wanting to fight with him. You had years of it when he started becoming too focused on stopping Spider people from disrupting their canon events. Those fights ended up pushing you both to a point that couldn’t be turned back around.

“Miguel, I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day. It’s late.”

“Dime qué pasó,” he almost pleads.

Well, if it made him let you go then you had no other choice. You took a deep breath and stared at him. You needed him to know what he did and how it resulted with you no longer having an engagement ring.

“He left me, Miguel. Does that make you happy? He saw how much I couldn’t handle being so far away from my people. From my friends. From you. He saw how it ruined my life being stuck here. I tried so hard to fake it until I was happy, but he saw through it all. He loved me so much that he let me go. Unlike someone who casted me out–”

“I didn’t cast you out because I didn't love you,” he interrupts with a growl. His face leans closer and your core flutters.

Fuck, your body could still react to him like no time has passed.

“We were young,” you argue. “That wasn’t love, the longer I had time apart to contemplate it. We were simply infatuated, but that wasn’t love.”

“It was for me, sabes esto.”

“No, it wasn’t Miguel,” you bite.

Miguel is silent, dropping his hand. You take a step back, a deep breath leaving your lips. His own shoulders move softly with his breathing. Some of the strands of hair at the top of his head fall over his temple and forehead. You want to so desperately lift a hand and brush them back in place. But that's not something you can do anymore.

You take another step back, finding yourself sitting on your couch. You placed your elbows on your knees and took a deep breath. You heard his footsteps follow and he knelt down, placing a finger under your chin and lifted you enough to see him. To look at his eyes that are yearning for you to speak to him.

“Mira, I lied. They didn’t miss you. I did. I stopped checking in on you to give you space. To move on.”

You scoff. “You can see how well that worked out.” You lift your naked ring finger to make a point.

“I needed to see you one last time.”

This brought you to straighten your spine and look at him with widened eyes. “Last time?”

He nods.

“What do you mean, Miguel?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not going to check in on you ever again. You won’t be bothered by me. I’m taking some space from Spider Society as well. They’re better off anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. He was going to demote himself from the society he created for us? One of the best places you’ve been able to call home for years. You missed it dearly, you couldn’t deny that.

“You can’t just leave them. They need you.”

Miguel’s eyes cast down and this time it’s you bringing a hand under his chin and lifting enough for him to look at you. You scoot a little closer to him where your knees brush. A fire burns in your belly.

“They don’t. I hurt people. I hurt you. I need space and time before I can come back and delegate again. I took things too far.”

“So you’d rather disappear than try to fix things? Did you ever plan to allow me back to Spider Society?”

He shakes his head. “I thought you’d be content here with him. You seemed so happy.”

You laugh. “That wasn’t happy, Miguel. That was coping.”

His thick brows furrow. “No, you were happy.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself? Are you really trying to control the truth? I wasn’t happy. I thought I could play along with this life to deal with everything. I was in survival mode. It was purely a facade. Imagine being introduced to a safe haven and then being stripped of all access to it and its people. That’s what happened to me. I had no choice but to try to make a life for myself here.”

Miguel is quiet for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His forehead wrinkles as he thinks deeply.

“This would be easier if I hated you.” He finally mutters.

Now you’re the one raising a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Call this an atonement,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, but I’m not sure bringing you back would fix things. What happened can’t be undone.”

“I never asked for you to fix it. I’ve learned how to make this my home. It was a home before I got my Spider abilities and it could be my home after.”

“But you’re not happy. You just said so yourself,” he counters.

You huff out a breath, exhausted at all of this back and forth. Why was he really here? If he wanted to see you one last time he could’ve done that without making himself known. He could’ve creeped in the shadows to do it.

“What do you want?” The words are sharp and roll off your tongue like venom. His hands raise and rest on your knees. He’s still kneeling and he scoots closer. A hand travels up your thigh and you suck in a breath.

“One last time,” he repeats so softly you almost miss it.

“We already had our one last time,” you say quietly. You remember that last time you felt him near you. That was when you truly thought that was the last time you’d feel him in your universe.

“No, bebita,” he responds gruffly. “I need you one last time.”

His words aren’t registering in your brain.

“You made it very clear you didn’t need me.”

“Will you let me finish?” His eyes connect with yours and your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“Finish then,” you push.

“It’s easier to hate you because then I could move on. I never did, bebita.” The nickname rolls off his tongue in a way that makes your core flutter and you clench your thighs.

“I–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Casting you out was the worst thing I did. I couldn’t take it back, my pride wouldn’t let me. I loved you so much, but I couldn’t say it. It was always on the tip of my tongue. You were it for me, bebita. It crushed me even more to see you making a life for yourself here. Finding a partner to be with, that was the worst of it. It took me months to deal with that one. But I couldn’t risk losing you to the things we did for the universes we saved. Pushing you away was the hardest thing to do, but the safest. If I didn’t have you to sacrifice in life or death situations, then that's what I had to do. I couldn’t lose you in those ways, I just couldn’t.”

His confession brings tears to your eyes and you wrap your hands around his neck. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. You take a deep breath and he does too. Soon, your breathing becomes sync with his.

“You hurt me,” was all you could say.

“I know, bebita, I know. I’m so sorry. I loved you–I love you so much. It felt like the only way I wouldn’t lose you.”

“But you ended up losing me anyway in the process,” you remind him. He nods.

“I lost you anyway. Please forgive me. Or did I come at the wrong time where that’s not possible? Is it too late?”

You contemplate it for a moment. You hurt for so long with his decision, but now you know why. He did it because he loved you so much. It reminded you of your ex-fiance. He broke things off because he loved you and wanted you to find your true happiness. He knew it wasn’t with him as much as he wanted it to be.

Funny how it’s the same concept with Miguel, but not quite. Miguel’s way was harsher and broke you. But he’s here now apologizing and on his knees.

All the feelings of your life with Miguel come back surfacing. The good and the bad. But he was the best thing in your life.

“And what would we do after this? Would you just leave and never see me again? After everything that’s been said?”

He grabs your cheeks and pushes you back a little. His face is pained as he thinks of a response. He leans in, kissing your forehead before kissing your nose and then your cheeks. “I don’t know anymore. Lyla asked me the same thing.”

You smiled softly. “Lyla… I missed her.”

Miguel smiled as well, tears in his eyes. “She misses you everyday. She might be the reason why I came tonight.”

“I’m glad, then,” you say. This brings another smile to his face and your heart warms. Your whole body warms.

“Miguel,” you whisper. He leans in again, pressing his lips to your nose. You inhale his scent for a moment.

“I can’t repair what’s been done.”

“You can’t,” you concede. “But we can take it day by day.”

“Really?” He says with a little happier tone.

You nod. “But you can’t do that again. Don’t push me away. Don’t make me think you hate me. That I was the worst thing in your life.”

A sob pulls through you and tears cascade down your cheeks. Miguel is quick to brush them away with his thumbs. He finally brushes his lips against yours and you stiffen at the movement.

“Can I?” He asks softly.

Instead of answering, you lean in to close the distance. His lips were soft and the memories of kissing him all over filled your senses. Your body still craved him, you just pushed those feelings as down as you could.

He continues to kiss with passion, like a man starved. His tongue presses against your teeth and you part your mouth, allowing him inside. He groans a little at the feeling and a moan escapes your own lips.

“Let me make it up to you, por favor,” he asks, moving his hands to your thighs and running them up until they find your hips. You hitch your breath at the feeling and you nod.

“It won’t make up for all these years, but you can try,” you say with a little spite and a little tease. Something in you wanted him to work for it. You couldn’t just forgive this easily, he had to know how much you hurt all this time.

“I’ll live the rest of my days making it up to you then, bebita,” he kisses you once more before moving his hands from your hips to your backside. He pulls you hard closer to him before you’re straddling your hips. You squeal from the sudden movement and then he rises. He starts to walk as you continue to kiss, as if he mesmerized the layout of your apartment from his check-ins. This brought another flutter to your core and you needed him in more ways than one.

He enters your bedroom and plops you on the bed softly. You shift yourself up to the pillows and he climbs the bed alongside you. Your hands come up to his hair, making their home in his strands as he continues to attack you with kisses. He moves his lips to your neck and you moan loudly, bucking your hips up. He groans from the sounds.

“Bite me,” you plead through breaths.

“Estás seguro?” he asks, lifting his lips from your neck for a brief second. You push his head back down to your bare skin and nod.

“Yes, please, Mig. Bite me like you used to. Fuck me like you used to. Make me whole again,” you plead. You can’t help the tears that come back to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. He doesn’t notice though, which you’re grateful for.

He obliges though, kissing your neck and then you feel something piercing you. His fangs sink into your skin and it feels wet instantly. You moan through it, leaning down to bite his own neck.

“F-fuck,” he moans once his fangs pull out. He lifts his head to look at you and it’s like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. His eyes light up and then turn into a feral thing you were so used to in the past.

Miguel knew how to be gentle with you when he could, but you always noticed the way his eyes would turn red with a primal need to love you until you were thrashing and screaming his name, clenching around him.

You needed him to go that far. You wanted him to.

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper finally.

His eyes search yours before he nods and snakes his hand under your hair and wraps his fingers around the strands until he can pull your neck the other way. He leans in and you feel that pain again as he sinks his fangs into the other side of your neck. Your hips buck up again and you gasp.

“Smell so good, taste so good,” he murmurs. His lips travel lower, kissing your collarbone. He helps you out of your mundane clothes before you’re lying naked in front of him. With a press of his watch on his wrist, his suit pixelates into nothing until he’s there naked over you. You forgot for a moment his suit does that.

“Please, Mig,” you say in deep breaths as you feel his erection pressing against your hip. You reach down blindly, feeling for his cock and then caressing it in up and down motions. He groans through this and curses under his breath, jutting his hips further into your hand.

“Need you,” he pleads.

“You have me,” you assure him.

He lifts himself on his knees which causes your hands to fall from his cock. He then begins to stroke himself and you spread your legs around him. His eyes glance down at your core and your cheeks heat.

“So fucking pretty and wet already for me, bebita. Just like I knew you’d be.”

You just nod as you stay transfixed on him, rubbing his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance. You didn’t care for him to prep you, you needed him now.

“It’s going to hurt, tell me to stop if you–”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. You made a point by reaching down and grabbing his wrist around his cock and aligning yourself with his tip. You pressed his tip against your fold and you both gasped. You shut your eyes briefly at the wonderful sensation.

He always fucked you so well, that was something you missed. And now he was here, doing just that.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” he grunts as he presses himself into you, inch by inch.

The pain soared throughout your body with each inch, but you didn’t care. You finally had him again and your cunt clenched around him. He moaned at the movements, but you couldn’t help yourself.

When he finally pressed into you all the way, you both took deep breaths. He leaned in, pressing his palms into the mattress to support himself. He shifted a little, moving inside you and you whined.

“So big,” you gasped.

“You can take it, bebita,” he cooed. “You always did so good for me, you can do it again. Okay?”

You nod, biting your lip as he moved his hips to slowly pull out of you and then he slammed back in, causing you to shift up on the bed from his strength. He curses under his breath again and you whine at the stretch of him. His girth was bigger than you remembered and you swore he was splitting you in half, but you loved it.

“More, more,” you begged and he obliged. He snapped his hips back and forth into you, earning a cry from your lips at each thrust.

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he groans as his hips start to grow sloppy. He was getting closer to his release and you were too.

Your core tightened and your pussy clenched around his cock in a beautiful way.

“So close,” you mumbled through his thrust.

“Come with me, bebita,” he says before leaning down, sinking his fangs into your neck once more. This makes all your sensations come alive and you can’t hold back anymore. Your legs wrap around his waist, causing him to push deeper into you and hitting the best parts.

“I’m going to–” you screamed before you felt everything explode. You saw stars, your body was shaking, and he was holding onto your tightly. He dropped his head into the crevice of your neck and muttered nonsense as he came right after you. Rope after rope of his cum filled you up and you clenched around him even more, milking his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as his hips stuttered and he collapsed over you. “Please don’t do that, not gonna last the night.”

You giggled, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. You both breathed intensely but you were so fucking happy.

“I love you, bebita,” he finally says, lifting himself to look at you. He wipes a strand of hair that was stuck on your forehead. You grab his face and kiss him. He moans deeply and his cock twitches inside you.

You squirm underneath him. “I love you too, Miguel. Always have, always will.”

He kisses you back with more passion. “You mean it?”

You nod and laugh as he tickles your side. You try to squirm away, but it’s hard with his cock still in you. Your pussy flutters around him again and he groans. “Bebita, that will only make me go for another round.”

“I know,” you confess with a smile.

You had years of catching up to do, anyways. You didn’t plan to leave that bed anytime soon.

Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around you before flipping you both over. His back plopped on the bed and you were straddling him above, your head laying on his chest.

“You don’t have to ever forgive me,” he whispers, stroking your bare back. “But I hope you give me the time to make it up to you.”

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. He cranes his neck to look down at you.

“It’s not too late,” you finally answer and those words were all he needed to hear.

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse #spiderman #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 8 months ago

Note

Hello, hello! Congrats to the milestone! For the festivity may I wish for a fic with 1/A; 2/Canon- adjasond; 3/Hurt/Comfort and 4 is up to you. If it fits your jam, would be an outsider pov be possible? 👀

Thank you so much for the ask, I definitely gave myself some feels writing this one! I've never done a Wayne POV before, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out. 🥲

Your first warden

Words: 999

Rated: T

Tags: POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Child neglect; Child abuse; Alcohol abuse; Drowning; Referenced parental death; Eddie had a shitty childhood; Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Hurt Eddie Munson; Recovery; Caretaker Steve Harrington; Hurt/comfort

The first time Eddie almost died, he was two years old.

Al had insisted on bringing him along for that fishing trip. A proper men's day out, he'd said. Of course Al’s idea of a proper men's day out was hitting the booze the second they arrived. By the time Wayne heard him snore, little Ed had already wandered off.

He found him floating face down between the reeds a few yards away. The water lillies and the pretty lights rippling on the surface must've drawn him in. Wayne thinks he lost five years of his life in the seconds between pulling him out and the kid's first coughs filling the air.

“‘s okay, kiddo,” Wayne murmured as he rocked the both of them, tears and lake water drenching his flannel. “‘s okay. I gotcha.”

The ruckus drew Al, of course. He took one look at them and yanked Eddie away by the arm, slapping him hard across the face.

“Quit howling, it's your own damn fault for going in the water. And you,” his eyes found Wayne's and his face twisted into something ugly. “Who d'ya think you are, his fucking guard dog? Keep your nose outta things that don't concern ya.”

And maybe it was because Wayne never liked being told what to do, least of all by his drunk, deadbeat brother - but he promised himself something on that day.

For as long as Eddie would need him, he'd watch over him.

He'd often think back on that promise over the years. Teaching Eddie to ride a bike. Letting him sob into his shoulder at his mom's funeral, daring Al to say something about being a man one glare at a time. Taking him in when he showed up on his doorstep, bruised and beaten, hair shorn so short his scalp was bleeding in places.

Wayne never regretted his decision, and he never broke that promise.

Until the day Eddie almost died the second time.

The beemer parked by the new trailer is a sight he should be used to by now. Still, Wayne can't help but grumble as he makes his way up the porch steps.

Don't get him wrong, he'll be forever grateful to the Harrington boy for carrying Eddie out of literal hell, but he isn't sure if this new friendship between the two will ever be anything but bizarre to him.

Maybe it's because the Harringtons don't mingle with the likes of them, or maybe it's because the lad is the exact type of kid Eddie hates with a passion, usually.

Maybe it's because Wayne has noticed the way Eddie looks at the boy. He's always had a way of getting in too deep, Eddie has. Drawn to pretty flowers and rippling lights that'll slip through his fingers when grasps at them, luring him in until it's too late.

The first thing he hears when he steps inside is a thud, followed by a wince. He's just taken the first step when Harrington barrels out of the kitchen and into Eddie’s room, completely unaware of Wayne standing in the door.

“Eddie? What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” comes Eddie’s reply, and Wayne knows that tone. The just-got-caught-doing-forbidden-shit one. “Just trying to put up this fucking thing.”

Toeing off his boots, Wayne hovers closer to the half-open door. A look inside reveals Eddie, sitting on the bed with a sheepish grin on his face and that giant banner he made for his band beside him. Harrington, back turned to the door, huffs and picks up the hammer lying on the ground.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds, climbing onto the bed and gesturing for Eddie to hand him the banner. A few swift movements and knocks of the hammer later, it’s hanging. “You could’ve opened a wound. Again. What do I need to do to make you stay in bed, tie you up?”

Eddie grins toothily. “Okay, one: I am in bed, technically. And two: oooh, kinky.”

Wayne groans soundlessly. Harrington rakes a hand down his face, plopping down cross-legged on the mattress.

“Eddie.”

Their knees bump together. Now that he has turned and he can see him in half-profile, Wayne recognizes the concern on Harrington’s face. Eddie’s grin shifts into something softer.

“I know,” he says, watching his hand fiddle with a loose thread on his pajama pants. “It’s just … It’s annoying, not being able to do anything on my own. Being such a goddamn burden all the time. To Wayne, to the kids. To you.”

“Hey.” Harrington’s hand settles on top of Eddie’s. “You're not a burden. We're all glad you're here. I'm glad. You know that, right?

Eddie flips his hand, tangling their fingers together, and Harrington doesn't pull away.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs. “I know.”

Harrington smiles, reaching up to cup Eddie’s face with his free hand.

“You just wait,” he winks. “You'll be back to walking on tables in no time. And in the meantime …”

Eddie melts into the touch, lashes brushing the other boy's palm as his eyes flutter shut.

“In the meantime, you got me.”

“I gotcha,” Harrington confirms, and leans in.

Wayne is just about to sneak away when the kettle whistles in the kitchen. The boys turn … and then they all just sort of freeze.

“Hiya, boys,” Wayne rumbles when they're still silently gaping at him a few seconds later.

“Mr. Munson,” Harrington croaks. “I mean … sir. I mean … hi?”

“Wayne?” Eddie blurts. “H-how long have you been standing there?”

Wayne considers that question while both boys continue to stare at him with matching scarlet blushes coloring their cheeks. Their hands are still lying entwined on the mattress between them.

“Long enough, I reckon,” is what he finally says. “I'll take care of the kettle, Steve. You lads stay put.”

And with that, he closes the door on their confused faces and makes his way into the kitchen. It's been a long day, and he's looking forward to resting his feet.

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#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

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love-is-patient · 2 years ago

Text

I have religious trauma.

I was raised in a household where my dad wanted to be God, and so characterized Him in a way that left me constantly paranoid.

God was a judge, God was a debt collector, God was a hammer waiting to strike.

My mother was likewise delusional to a point. She used religion as a manner of control, manipulating my egotistical dad and our chaotic little world so she could feel better about herself.

I was abused in the church. I’ve been so many churches since childhood I can’t count them.

I was told I was possessed because I was a child with adhd and couldn’t sit still in a pew. I was told that if I didn’t see visions or speak in tongues, I wasn’t saved. I was told that I must be thinking about God at all times or I wasn’t good enough. That I was lukewarm, unlovable, unworthy.

I was too afraid to take communion. I cried and turned away from the altar multiple times because I was a too dirty to touch the offering.

I was told so many awful things that I grew up with a persistent religious paranoia on top of my already anxiety inducing life.

So… why am I still a Christian, after all of that?

Stockholm syndrome, right?

It would be easy to write it off as that, but I did turn away from religion. In the back of my mind. I stayed cautious in case God was still watching.

It wasn’t until I got rid of the destructive influences in my life that things changed.

My perception of God changed when I left the awful people using His name in vain- or for personal gain.

When I grew up, learned to be discerning about the character of people.

Many people live under the assumption that I did- that God is a tyrant who is waiting for you to mess up so he can smash you and send you to hell. Paradoxically, that almost makes Satan sound preferable.

But that’s not who God is, and he doesn’t want people to go to hell.

Even if you haven’t had good parents, you’ve seen what they’re like. They get excited to share experiences with their children. The first taste of lemon, the first puddles to splash in. First words, first laughs, first steps.

God wanted that for us.

Satan got jealous after his rebellion in heaven. He saw God had something good and wanted it for himself again - even if it was just to spite God.

He offered humanity a choice and we took it.

We can debate why it happened until we’re blue in the face, but what matters most are God’s decisions afterwards.

Everything that has happened since the fall has been God trying to bring his wayward children back without force.

Just like when you see that friend of yours making the same bad decisions day after day, and you know their quality of life would improve if they just stopped. It’s heartbreaking, frustrating. You can give them all the advice in the world but they’ll just keep on doing the thing and complain to you about every headache afterwards.

Now you know a little what God feels like.

Only God is a little more patient than we tend to be.

God doesn’t ask much from us, not as much as people, which is weird to think about.

God doesn’t measure your worth by how good you are at your job, how badly you do in school. He doesn’t equate your value to how rich or poor you are, he doesn’t judge you the same way people do.

The first thing he asks of you is to love him and love each other.

He loves us so much that he opened heaven again if we ask for it.

He came down as flesh and blood in Jesus and took all the punishments we should’ve had. In Jesus death and resurrection, we have a way home.

All he wants for us to do is acknowledge that.

He doesn’t hate you if you can’t pay tithe. He doesn’t talk behind your back if you make a mistake. He doesn’t demean, debase, abuse.

Why am I still a Christian?

Because God was there for me when people weren’t.

God didn’t abuse me as a kid, people did, and used God as a shield.

God didn’t lie to me, call me names, break my things - my parents did.

God didn’t order me to do unbelievable things in order to reach him - my pastors and teachers did.

God didn’t tell me I’m unworthy - people did.

Even if you don’t believe in God, if you’re angry at him, feeling hurt and betrayed.

Maybe take a closer look and see if it’s really the people around you making you miserable, instead of an untouchable, invisible hammer.

#religious trauma #church #Christian #faith

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pavosnoctua · 11 months ago

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cw: yandere, dark themes, obsessive behaviors, forced marriage, possessive behaviors, controlling behaviors, implied isolation, implied non-con touching, implied forced starvation. afab reader. mdni, minors dni! i do not condone the behaviors in this fic.

my first time writing a yandere fic. please lmk if i am missing a tag or warning!

You don't know why but Diluc one day tells you that he is giving a few more freedoms - slightly begrudgingly but you won't be alone outside. The winery is well staffed, Adelinde will be nearby so be good.

(Maybe Adelinde felt a twinge of sympathy for you, hearing you cry every night when Diluc would get too rough with you. You delude yourself into thinking this)

Be good is what you repeat to yourself as you step outside into the sunlight since he brought you here - it feels like ages ago, unreal to you, with the way the warmth of the sun hits your skin and you have to initially squint at the brightness. The Manor is so dark in comparison - it's windows always covered and the lighting so dim.

Adelinde watches you with the same hawkish look Diluc does, and you're not sure who you'd rather have following you like an unwanted storm cloud.

So, you meander around the property within the limits given to you. You soak up the sun, take in all the smells - everything you've missed for the last six months. All that can be taken away on a whim.

You're smart - you like to believe you're smart but you find a path that hasn't been used and Adelinde is currently distracted because of Hillie and Moco, you consider. One foot in front of the other.

Liyue is only a half a days walk from here.

Just follow this path while everyone is distracted - your heart hammers in your chest as you stand, frozen.

"Is everything okay?" Diluc startles you, you quickly turn to face him and look down, hoping that act appeases him. "Are you ill? Let's get you back inside-"

"No!" You shout, jerking away. He looks unimpressed and you clear your throat. "I mean, no, I'm fine. Just...spaced out."

Diluc makes a noise and you wish he'd go away so you could plan your path of escape.

"Come. Let's eat outside today for lunch." It's an order. You obey, glancing back at the path longingly - hoping it'll still be there in a few days if you are allowed back outside again.

Mercy comes through the sake of the woman who serves as Diluc's eyes. You are allowed outside on a weekly basis, you've been good and sweet and obedient. You sleep with Diluc, kiss him without crying - go along with his whims and delusions.

And one day, when the staff is too busy to watch you, you slip away. The path is overgrown and unseen. You step forward.

And again.

Further into the forgotten bushes and trees until you come to a clearing. The Winery is still in view and the path is vaguely there.

Liyue is a half a days walk, you tell yourself - looking at the shitty shoes you're wearing. The delicate clothes.

And as you turn and walk, vaguely remembering the map - a hand grabs you and jerks you back. Red, hot. You scream.

You swear at him, tell him how much you hate him as he looks at you with hurt and betrayal. He yells orders for that area to be blocked off, says doors are to be locked down as he drags you back because you won't walk for him. You claw at him and more words tumble out. Adelinde simply watches.

"You got greedy." Diluc snaps as he shoves you into your shared room. You cannot cause a scene anymore - watching his Vision glow with his growing emotions. You do not wish to deal with burns on top of the scrapes and bruises you just got. And whatever punishment he'll inflict on you now. "I never should have agreed to let you go outside. I could have lost you!"

"That's the point." you mutter. His eyes burn.

"What?"

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him in the eyes. "I said what I said."

Diluc is quiet for a moment - as if thinking. Finally, he turns to Adelinde, who only looks at you with pity and disappointment.

"They are to not receive a meal for the next two days. No one but me is to see them."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm doing this because I care about you." Diluc tells you but you only just stare at him. He considers many things in that moment but chooses to leave instead, door half slamming behind him.

You don't wince anymore.

"You should have been grateful for what you were given," Adelinde tells you as she goes to work to make your bed, pick out different clothes. "Do you understand that I had to convince him to allow you such a freedom?"

"I'm sorry." you say, automatically. She does not answer, opting to leave you alone with nothing more to say.

#yandere diluc #diluc #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc x you #yandere diluc imagines #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #mine.txt

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miniwheat77 · 2 years ago

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Mean!141 + König.

I read this blurb of König being mean to reader while fucking her and now I’m running with it.

!CW! NSFW, Smut, slight dark themes, overstimulation, spanking, cockwarming, blackmail, cnc, non-con, coercion, oral sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any

König:

“So pathetic.” He breathes. His hips are hammering into yours, the edge of the desk is digging into your hips and you’re crying. He’s stretching your pussy out, the sheer size of him was too much, he smirked when he seen your eyes widen at seeing him, and now. Body lurching forward with every hard thrust he takes into you, allowing you to cry out. He doesn’t care who hears. He doesn’t care who comes in and sees you split on his cock. Crying for him. He’s got both of your hands behind your back. Holding them there with one hand. The other abusing you in other ways. Pinching your nipples, rubbing your sensitive nub, slapping your ass. Anything to hear you crying for him. He takes a tight grip on both of your wrists, holding you tightly as he fucks into you. “You won’t disobey me again.” He growls. “Say it- erbärmliche Heulsuse.” His hand clapping against your ass has you crying out again. “I won’t disobey you again König!” You cry. “Wrong.” He growls. You lurch forward at his abuse, hand slapping your ass again. “I won’t disobey you a-again Colonel König- I won’t!” You cry.

He grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you back into him. “Now cum.” He growls. His warm breath against your ear. So you do, with a cry, leaking around his cock. Fluids mixing with his. He cums with an animalistic growl. Filling you to the hilt with his cum. When his thrust finally halt, he holds you still, cock still buried deep inside of you. He loves cockwarming, and you’ll obey him. He loves the way you cry. “You’ll be back tomorrow after chores.” He growls. You nod your head. “Yes sir.” You pant. He slides out of you, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel him spilling back out of you. You know better than to move away, knowing how much he loves to watch his seed leak down your thighs. He redresses himself, standing behind you with a stern glare, arms crossed over his chest. Admiring your bare ass as you lean over the desk. His slick still wet between your thighs. “Stand up, turn around.” He growls. You do, turning to look at him. He grasps your chin, kissing you hard. It’s sloppy and he can still feel your drool from him fucking you dumb. “Get dressed, you’re excused.” You nod your head. Reaching for your clothes.

Soap:

The deep chuckle that leaves his lips sends shivers down your spine. He’s tormenting you and you hate it. “Oh come on, pouting now?” He rolls his eyes. “You need my help with the Humvee, I want something out of it.” He looks over at you. He told your Captain that he was just showing you the ropes with the Humvee, you were newer than everyone else, he was helping. That’s all. Oh how wrong your Captain was to let you go with him alone. “Soap- not like this.” You grit your teeth, tears filling your eyes. “You’re driving us back, and you’re not going to tip one thing over while doing it. Or I’ll tell Captain.” He smiles. “No!” You cry. You get so frustrated so easily. He laughs, still taunting you. He’s just being mean, making fun of you. “Than you know what I want.” He smirks. “Oh come on, you’re being such a bad girl right now. Do you want me to tell Captain Price just how bad you’ve been?” He’s reaching across the seat, hand gliding over your thigh. “Back talking me when I’m just trying to teach you, disobey me.” He clicks his tongue. You stay silent, avoiding his gaze. He starts the Humvee, and you jump. “No! Okay- I’ll do it.” You breathe, “that’s a good girl, now get in the back seat.” He smirks.

A few minutes later, he’s pounding you. He’s already made you choke on his cock, making fun of you and taunting you the entire time. Belittling you until you were sobbing, now, he’s fucking you into the window. Your face is up against it. Your hands are clutching onto the seats of the Humvee, you’re crying and drooling, pussy soaked. “Why are you crying hm? Just give into the way my cock makes you feel.” He clutches. “Please- can I ride you? You’re being too rough!” You whimper. He laughs at you, taking a few more deep thrusts into you before finally letting up, sitting in the seat and letting you climb on top of him. “You like my cock baby?” He looks up at you. Wiping your tears away for you. You nod your head, sliding down onto him and lifting your hips up. You’re holding onto the back of the seat, using it to help lift yourself up. He groans out. “Yes- you’re just too rough.” You whimper. “You’ll learn to take it rough, don’t worry.” He smirks. “You’ll learn to be my perfect little fuck toy, won’t you?” He smiles. He grasps your hips, starting to thrust up into you. You start squirming and crying. “Such a fucking crybaby.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ll take my cock however I want to give it to you, and you’re going to thank me. No more complaining.” His hand claps against your ass, making you cry out. “Thank me.” He growls. “Thank me for my cock.” He growls, thrusting up into you harder. “Thank you for your cock Johnny- thank you thank you-“ you’re chanting it, tears spilling from your eyes. “Good girl. Such a quick learner.” He smirks.

Captain Price:

Captain Price was always so mean. Even since you first joined the taskforce. His punishments were always rough. Getting sprayed with ice cold water, making the entire task force do laps for your mistakes. You walked on eggshells around Captain Price and even the entire task force knew it. One day though, that all changed. He started being nice to you, at least that’s what they thought anyways. He was nice and kind and never punished you. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them though. Because late at night. When you’re laying on your stomach and he’s fucking into you from behind, his body weight forcing you down. The first time it happened, it was the heat of the moment. You kissed him in anger, apologized profusely. He was angry with you, livid even. He was your Captain, you could get him into trouble. He didn’t realize it until you pissed him off the next time around, that this could be your new punishment. So to everyone else, he looked kind. But in private. In his room alone late at night. They had no idea.

Since you’d had a crush on him before, he caught on pretty quickly. He was already mean but in bed he was just a bully. Talking down at you until you were sobbing into his hand as he fucked into you. You did anything he told you too. Let him fuck you any way he wanted to. He’s pushing your face into the mattress with a handful of your hair, hips clapping against yours, but your sounds were muffled by the mattress. “Such a bad fucking girl-“ he groans, tilting his head back. “I know you like this. Know you like being degraded by me.” He chuckles. Your cheeks are burning but he can’t see it. “Always get so fucking wet when I’m mean to you, my dumb little crybaby.” He smirks. “Got to give you the benefit of the doubt though, even though that’s not what you want. This fucking pussy is so sweet and tight.” He growls. “How am I supposed to teach you a lesson when you love your punishment huh? You want me to stop fucking you, little crybaby?” He chuckles, lowering himself. His chest was up against your back, and he can hear your shallow breaths. You’re crying. He tugs your head back by your hair, a cry leaving your lips. “You want me to stop?” He growls. “No- no! Please-“ you gasp. “Please don’t stop fucking me Captain Price. I’ll be a good girl from now on, I promise. P-please don’t stop.” He’s smiling. You’ve done so good, maybe he’ll even let you finish. He’s got you right where he wants you. Beneath him.

Ghost:

Ghost is by far the meanest, especially when it came to you fucking up. You found that out the hard way when the two of you were alone on a mission together and you did something risky, something that could’ve gotten yourself killed. He was furious. You didn’t even get a chance to explain yourself before he was shoving you back into the brick wall behind you. He was yelling, and when you started crying, he froze up. His eyes darkened, face was stone cold. He walked away from you mid-sentence. You didn’t understand why. You were alone in the showers, and when you heard the door open you expected another girl, but it quickly set in that you were the only girl on base. When you looked up and seen him approaching you. Massive man with a skull mask on. You were intimidated. He pushes you back into the small lockers for your items and you made an attempt at covering up your naked body but he pushed your hands away. He had your face pressed up against the lockers in no time as he hammered his hips into yours, the completely lewd sounds being made should’ve been what was egging him on, but it wasn’t.

It was your cries, he loved hearing them. He hated to admit it but he loved seeing you cry, and now. Crying out of pleasure, crying because of him overwhelming you. It was pure bliss. His fingertips will surely leave bruises, your body will show the aftermath of Ghost for at least a week. He’s doing everything he can to hear those pretty sobs, and he’s so mean. Such a bully. He’s bullying your nipples and sensitive clit, overstimulating you so that he can hear those pretty cries even if you’re telling him that it’s too much. You can take it, he reassures you that you can. “Ah! Simon please-“ you tilt your head back. He inhales the scent of your hair, fingertips rubbing furiously at your clit. “You can take it. We both know you can.” He breathes. “This is what you get for being such a stupid girl, putting yourself in danger like you did.” He clicks his tongue, tight grip on your hips, one of your legs raised slightly as he had the perfect angle to fuck into you. When he spins you around, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose, taking your nipple into his mouth and being so mean. Bullying your poor sensitive nipple and sucking it until it’s swollen and red and you’re crying so much. When he cums, it’s a little unexpected. But it’s the perfect amount of time for you to let out the perfect mewl. Finishing around his cock. He can’t help but pinch your nipples between his fingers, fucking you through your orgasm. He overstimulates himself in the process but he’d do anything to hear you cry. Anything.

Gaz:

Since Gaz was the closest to your age, he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin. He reminded you a lot of a high school bully. When you first joined the task force, he harassed you constantly. You were quiet, never talked back. You took his harassment. It went on for months and months. It was annoying and he was just a jerk, a bully. One day during dinner in the mess hall he said something and set you off, and you finally fired back at him. You embarrassed him a little bit in front of the other members which pissed him off. You stood up and hurried off to your room, mad and upset. He rolled his eyes, told a lie about how he was going to go after you to apologize. He went after you but for not the reasons he said. He barged his way into your room, locking the door behind him. In no time he had you sprawled out on your bed, bullying your pussy with his tongue and fingers. He was edging you until you couldn’t handle anymore, crying. He told you to cry into the pillow, but you were being loud, which only made him meaner. He was growing annoyed with you being so loud, pushing the pillow into your face more as he nudges your clit with his nose, abusing your pussy even further. “You’ll learn not to talk back to me, you fucking crybaby.” He growls.

He pulls you close to him, forcing you to lay on your stomach. “Put your face into the pillow, if I hear one cry from you that isn’t muffled, you won’t get to cum.” He growls. You nod your head, gasping into the pillow when he thrusts inside of you. He was huge and you weren’t ready for him at all. “Just cry into the pillow sweetheart, be a good girl for me and I’ll make you cum.” He pants. Your bed is only squeaking a little bit, thank god. But he’s not really making any attempts at being quiet. His groans are loud and even though your cries are muffled, they’re still audible. You’re clutching the sheets so hard and he can’t help but smile. You were being so good, he wants to praise you. But he knows you like it. You like when he picks on you. The tip of his cock bullies it’s way through your folds, nudging up against your cervix and he’s getting close. “Kyle?” You whimper. You look back at him, teary eyes and messy hair. He nearly busts right there. “Yeah honey?” He groans. “I’m close” you whimper. He smirks. “You can cum. Since you’ve been so good.” He breathes. He continues thrusting into you, covering your mouth with his hand because he knows the pillow won’t help. Your scream is muffled when you finally cum on his cock. Tightening down around him so perfectly. “Oh fuck- fuck I’m going to cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He groans, his voice is unsteady and desperate and a growl leaves his lips when he finishes. “You’ll learn to be a good girl for me.” He mumbles into your ear, cock still buried inside of you.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig cod #könig smut #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #ghost cod

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

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Got Your Tongue

CW: NSFW, first time blowjobs, Top Male reader, breath play, Implied Switch reader, Implied Switch Ghost, Ghost's self hate is showing, idk if I characterized him well, long word vomit fic again :/

Ya'll are free to thow requests/thirsts/asks my way, srs my brain rots can only go so far lads.

Ghost is like a feral cat; you never know what the fuck he's thinking and it drives you both up the wall. Hell, most of the time you can't tell if he actually wants to be with you.

You'll go days if not weeks without touching each other until you start pondering if you're going mad and looking too deep into whatever this is, and the next time you're doing something as mundane as making tea he'll suddenly be there— his large and firm chest pressing against your back and burying his face into your neck, wrapping strong arms around your waist and clamping his teeth on your neck deep and long enough to leave a bruise. And when you find your voice to ask what he's doing he'll give you a deep noncommittal grunt with a thousand meanings, grab the tea you were making and disappear like his namesake as if he hadn't just given you a heart attack.

Or after a deadly mission he'll use his overbearing bulk to bully you into the first secluded nook or broom closet or whatever he finds and push you against the wall until your ribs are groaning so he can steal the remaining air in your lungs with a harsh kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You can never mind his brutish ways when every kiss with him feels like the first and the last, desperate and eager you'll kiss him until you're both lightheaded and your hands are grabbing at his belt. But even the slightest attempt at going further will make things stop. "Good," He'll say in the same tone of voice like he's just won an argument, then he'll be gone again, leaving you confused and aroused.

Ghost isn't dumb, knows the state he leaves you in because he feels the same way — aroused and sad and confused and angry. He knows it's his fault, knows he should talk and ask for what he wants. But his childhood, his life, his death, had shaped him into a man of action and violence, and there's always this sick feeling he gets in his stomach when he holds you like he knows he'll break you like he has with everything else in his life; fuck up the first good thing he's had in a while.

Pathetic, he is.

Even more pathetic because he knows how smitten you are with him. He can feel your eyes on his body when he goes on a bulk, glued to his arse and thighs that barely fit in his jeans because of course that's where most of the calories go, knows you have to concentrate to keep your fingers to yourself because otherwise you'll be trying to squeeze and feel up and use the added chub his chest and stomach develops like a bloody stress ball.

He's a downright wretch for how your gaze makes him feel, how his heart hammers just a bit faster in his chest when you do a double take and how a sense of power burns in his veins when you snap at recruits after you catch them staring at his arse.

He's still shit at expressing that and it's getting on his nerves. Lucky for him, you're running out of patience too.

Next time he has you pinned to a wall after a mission it's in your shared bunkroom and you've been dancing( more like stumbling) around each other like dogs for weeks. He kisses you in the same desperate overbearing way he always does, like he expects to never see you again so he's taking everything you'll give him, your teeth clacking together and moans echoing into the other's mouth.

Your heart sinks like a stone when he pulls away to catch his breath, mask pulled up to his nose, muttering the dreaded "Good,".

You're quicker this time, each hand grabbing his arse cheek before he can disappear. "Not good." You pull him back into you, chests pressed together and hips shifting until you feel his cock against yours so you can swallow the sharp inhale he makes. "Stop fucking blue balling me."

"So fockin' needy." He grunts against your lips in a tone that makes it both a praise and an insult. Simon puts his paw of a hand on your sternum and tries to push you away, something white hot zapping up his spine when you don't yield, your chest hard and solid beneath his hand as if to spite his belief.

"Only because you keep scampering off." You argue and have half a mind to bat his hand off your chest but the fear of him leaving has your hands digging firmly into the meat of his arse. "Come on Si, talk to me, do you want this or am I barking up the wrong tree?"

He tries. His mouth opens slightly but trepidation and displaced anger clogs his throat, so he answers in his own way. Simon's hands slide to your shoulders and then to your head, pulling you painfully by the hair until you're kissing him again. He leans fully into you almost crushing you, and the strange buzz in his head when you don't even flinch that has him trying to convey through his body what he can't through his words.

"That's not an answer." He feels you frown against his lips before you're pulling your head back against his grip to look at his half covered face. "Just nod or shake your head, okay? Don't need an essay here."

He swallows and doesn't even have to think before he's nodding his head.

"Good." You can't even hide the relief you feel, tilting your head to kiss him softer before nibbling on his lip. "Can we get you out of those clothes? Need to see you so bad right now."

"Fine," He manages, pulls you by your hair to kiss you again, barely helping you when you try taking off his clothes. You've fucked before, but this feels different with you now on the receiving end instead of him, and he's grateful when you don't try taking off his mask so you don't see how nervous he is.

"Can you lay on the bed love? Wanna try something new, okay?" You say and greedily run your fingers along the light patch of his between his pecs, trailing down his happy trail to give his cock a few dry jerks.

He grunts, bites your shoulder in retaliation, before he submits and lets you rearrange him how you want. "What shit are you planning?" He demands as he looks at you from where he's laying across your bunk with his head hanging off the foot end of it, making blood rush to his head.

"Something good." You muse, unzipping your pants just enough to free your cock, and now Simon understand why you chose this position— it inverses your sizes, makes you loom over him and his cock throbs painfully at how small he suddenly feels. "You know you can tap out." You remind him.

His eyes shift to yours, blown so wide they're just pools of black, and he glares at you. "Stop wastin' time." He growls and reaches out to grip your thighs and all but throws you on him.

"Who's needy now?" You giggle when you catch yourself with your hands on his firm and chubby pecs, tilting your head down to watch him lay kisses and small licks along the underside of your shaft. God if the sight of it doesn't make your cock twitch, feeling his heartbeat as you squeeze and play with his pecs definitely does.

"Still you." He huffs and opens his mouth to take you inside, the new angle letting you easily push past his teeth and tongue and straight into his throat. He tries to breathe and fails, throat fluttering and gagging before you quickly pull out so he can breathe.

"Si-"

"Shu'it." He grows before you can ask if he's sure, pulling you by your thighs and taking your cock deep into his throat again. He's better this time, figuring out to relax his throat and hollow his cheeks and only breathe when you pull out just enough for air to pass through his larynx.

"God, fuck, Simon." You can't help but moan at how hot and tight his mouth is, stuck between watching his throat bulge from your cock and his entire body jiggle with every shallow thrust of your hips. The sight of his cock standing tall and proud just from how deep in his throat you are has you flexing your muscles and biting your lip in a desperate attempt not to cum immediately.

He groans, the sound vibrating around your shaft, his heart hammering in his ears louder and louder every time you bottom out. Distantly he knows he should want to fight back and gain control and dominate, like he should feel adrenaline and violence run through his veins because he can hardly breathe and has to struggle not to choke.

But he doesn't; the lack of oxygen hits his brain better than any drug on the market and makes his head nice and fuzzy and calm. He doesn't even feel his eyes close and just focuses on the feel of your cock in his throat with a sense of euphoria settling over his weary body and mind like a weighted blanket. He lets himself float in bliss, sometimes remembering to run his tongue over the veins in your cock or to suckle on it when only the tip remains inside.

He barely hears you praise him, your once careful pace quickly gaining speed and intensity when you see how fucked out he looks when his lips are stretched around the base of your shaft. Your deep thrusts make his body jiggle in a mesmerizing way, his thick thigs spreading open and cock leaking steady drops of precum.

"I'm not gonna last long Si." You try to warn him but Ghost just humms drunkly, suckling eagerly on your cock as best he can. Even blissed out he's good with his mouth, and you don't last long.

You pull out with just your tip remaining inside, letting him get in a deep breath before you're pushing inside balls deep, hunching over him and cumming down his gullet straight down his esophagus. He gurgles, throat bobbing as he swallows what he can and chokes on what he can't.

"You're okay, you're okay." You sooth, pulling out quickly and helping him sit up, smacking his back to help him breathe again. "You broken?"

He coughs, shaking his head numbly, voice low and scratchy when he says, "Negative."

Before you know it he's pulling you by your hair into a kiss. You melt into him, not bothered by your seed on his tongue as you kiss him back just as deeply as he does you. You pull away when you feel his hold weaken a bit, resting your forehead against his, wiping sweat from his cheek. "God you look so pretty."

He grunts, tugs on your hair in revenge for your words. You catch his eyes shift to his own cock. "Look what you caused." He mumbles, laying a chaste and drunk kiss on your lips. "Fix it."

You can't help but giggle, kissing him again as you feel him melt against you.

#centerpieces of the hoard #top reader #x reader #male reader #top male reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader

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reminiscingtonight · 1 year ago

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The Talk

Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: A short one for our Arsenal girls' win

[WOSO Masterlist]

Leah’s not stupid.

Leah may be rash, hard headed, and a little reckless sometimes, but she’s not stupid.

It’s obvious how something has changed with you. You, her sweet baby sister, went from watching trashy TV on the couch with her most nights to not even bothering to stay home after practice anymore, always sneaking back into the house at early hours of the new day when you think she’s still asleep.

Leah likes to think she’s a good sister. Someone you’ll always turn to if you need help or if you have anything you want to share with her.

But obviously what she likes to think can’t be further from the truth because two months pass and you’re still sneaking around, taking muted phone calls around the corner, never spending more than a few minutes alone with your sister anymore.

Leah likes to take pride in her observation skills. But honestly she can point to your inability to be subtle that helps her figure the whole thing out. It begins as pink cheeks whenever a certain new striker comes near you. The eyes that linger too long when you are all in the gym together for a quick weight training session only adds on to her suspicions.

Leah has also noticed the way long limbs often trail after you, stumbling into the nearest bin whenever you laugh at a not-so-funny joke made by the girl in question. Alessia’s often found sat near your side whenever the girls have a movie night, or whenever the lot of you go out for a meal together.

Leah considers her suspicions confirmed when you disappear after a night out at the club with the rest of your teammates and Alessia is also conveniently missing as well.

So, the next day after practice, Leah decides enough is enough. No more sneaking around, no more lying. She was going to take matters into her own hands and put an end to everything. It’s about time she lays the hammer down, even if it comes at the risk of you hating her.

The opportunity arrives when Alessia is called away to the physios. Leah lingers in the hallway after practice ends, pretending to busy herself as she awaits the striker’s return. When Alessia finally finishes her session, she’s walking down the hallway, head down, entranced in her phone when a hand shoots out, gripping tightly against her forearm and yanking her into a nearby storage closet.

The shriek she lets out quickly dies when she meets the familiar eyes of her national team captain.

“Leah!” Alessia gasps, trying to pull in a breath of air at the surprise.

Leah’s eyes narrow at the younger girl, hand only tightening its grip against her arm. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Russo. Because I definitely do, and I have to say, I’m not amused so far.”

“I…” Alessia trails off, trying not to look too rattled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Watch your next words carefully, Russo. I don’t take well to liars,” Leah warns, voice dangerously low.

Alessia’s mouth clamp shuts.

You warned her about this. On your first date out, you warned Alessia about how protective Leah could get.

“I think we should wait to tell Leah. There’s no telling what she’ll do.”

So she agreed, not thinking much about it.

Until she got the offer to play for Arsenal. And then her access to you was unfiltered and oh-so easy.

Where the two of you used to be so cautious about not letting anything slip, faced with the ability to see each other whenever you wanted was just too good of an offer to pass up. So gone were the nights you’d entertain Leah’s want for sisterly cuddles. Gone were the days you went out for after practice smoothies, relishing in some quality time with your sister. Now you go out on dates with your girlfriend because you can. You can take her to all the places around London, take all the time you want mindlessly strolling about just because you can.

Though now that Alessia is thinking about it, maybe the two of you should have tried a little harder to hide your relationship. Because faced with a slightly fuming Leah Williamson glaring down at her, Alessia has the sinking suspicion she’s not getting out of here alive.

“You’ve been keeping (Y/N) out until the late night hours every night. I oughta have you benched for the next couple games just for that.”

Alessia’s eyes widen even more in fear. Did Leah actually have the power to have her benched? Alessia has no idea. But she’s not willing to flirt with the idea.

“I love her, Leah. I really do. She… she makes me feel things that I didn’t think I ever would.”

And once she starts, Alessia can’t stop.

“I would never hurt her, I hope you know that. I feel so lucky every day that I get to call (Y/N) mine. I thank my lucky stars that she chose me because I think she can do so much better. I wake up every day so in awe of her and I love her so much that sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe. I love her every single second of every single day, and I’ll continue to love her until we either break up or I die because let’s be real I’ll probably keep loving her even if we ever do break up. Not that I want to break up with her though! I would never break up with her,” Alessia rambles on, not seeing Leah blink as she slowly becomes overwhelmed with the amount that the younger girl is saying.

Leah didn’t really come into this thinking too much. Her goal was to scare the star striker a bit, but the younger girl’s word vomit of appreciation for you, though lovely, is a bit unexpected.

Alessia also seems a bit taken aback herself, face steadily reddening as embarrassment floods her system.

Alessia doesn’t have much time to think it over though. Suddenly the door beneath her back disappears, light flooding into the room as the two of them go toppling out of the closest.

Leah swears when she crashes to the ground, Alessia’s bony frame not doing much to cushion her fall.

When Leah looks up, she finds you staring at the two of them, mouth slightly agape in confusion.

Alessia pales when she realizes it’s you who opened the door. She scrambles to push Leah off of her, the older girl glaring at her as she lands on the cold hard ground. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Leah, on the other hand, simply rolls her eyes before getting onto her feet. You’re watching with wide eyes as she comes to a brief stop in front of you, pausing long enough to brush the lightest of kisses against your cheek.

“She passed the sister test. I approve.”

She pinches your cheeks between her fingers as an afterthought, and your look of confusion quickly turns into a scowl as you swat at Leah’s hands. “Leah Cathrine, get your grimy hands off of me.”

“Bring Lessi around for dinner some time, yeah?” With one last loving pat, Leah gets on her way, leaving the two of you to stare after her as she slowly turns the corner.

Alessia nervously rubs at the back of her head when you turn your gaze onto her.

“What did you tell her, Less?”

“I…” It’s times like these that Alessia can really see the resemblance between you and Leah. Narrow eyes full of suspicion but still filled with love. Alessia hedges her bets that you love her more than you’ll dig for answers.

“I love you?” The words are paired with an unconvincing smile, Alessia not eager to repeat her word vomit.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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