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certaimromance · 1 month

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𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of crime and arms (normal warning in the series). spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.

Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.

That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.

You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.

Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.

You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.

“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”

“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.

“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.

“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”

Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.

“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.

“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.

“No.”

He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.

“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”

“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.

He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.

“You're giving me that look.”

You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.

“What look?"

“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”

The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.

“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”

You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.

But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.

“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”

Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.

“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.

“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”

You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?

“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”

Oh, he hadn't noticed.

Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.

“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.

Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”

A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.

“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.

“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.

“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”

“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.

Spencer really thought you were pretty.

It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.

Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid imagine #certaimromance<3

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strangersteddierthings · 11 months

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Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

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ssahotchnerr · 11 months

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Thinking about reader asking Jack what Aaron’s favorite meal is and then reader surprising him by making it when he comes back from a case? It may not even be his favorite meal, Jack could easily say his favorite instead 💀, but coming back to a home cooked meal has him like 🥹

cooking up trouble

STOP cw; established relationship, mentions of food, small burn description, brief suggestiveness 🤭, aaron being sooooo sweet 😣 wc; 1.1k

jack's besides you, standing on a chair and assisting - aka your little helper.

"careful." you gently warn, intently watching as jack stirred the boiling pasta. you were weary of the threatening steam, the droplets of hot water flicking out of the pot.

"i'm being careful."

"i know you are love, 'm just being cautious. sometimes boiling water has a mind of it's own and i'd hate to see it spit at you."

jack happened to burn himself once in the past, as the two of you were making cookies. he had merely grazed the baking sheet and the burn was less than mild, just a small tinge of skin that vanished within five minutes, but it had both of you in tears - in which jack did not witness on your end, you cried later that night in bed with aaron. it was an accident and no one was at fault, but you still felt awful.

and ever since, if jack wanted to bake or help with dinner, you complied, but were more on alert, extra careful, feeling partially at guilt.

you even considered putting the oven mitts on his hands for an extra layer of safety. however, they were much too large for him, would cover well past his elbow, and would make it more difficult to mix - the constraint potentially making it more dangerous.

in the distance, the click and shut of the door announced aaron's arrival home, and jack was quick to yell daddy! amidst stirring. meanwhile, you didn't dare to direct your focus to anything that wasn't jack. it doesn't take long for you to feel aaron's presence behind you, his familiar cologne invading your senses.

"hello." his voice is a little more singsong, lighter as he's happy to finally be home. aaron leans forward to kiss your cheek sweetly, then places one on the top of jack's head, more accessible than usual from the height given from the chair he's stood on. his chest is to your back, hands winding around your waist. "what's this?"

you peer back with a grin. "your favorite. we'd thought it'd be a nice surprise to come home to."

aaron paused. but due to the clear enthusiasm in your voice, and not wanting to dampen your spirit, he was quick to agree, hand running up and down your abdomen. "uh-yeah. it looks amazing. and smells even better."

you felt the hesitance in his posture, chest vaguely stiffening behind you, as well as noticed a hint of forced strain within his voice.

your heart dropped a bit, in surprise, carefully taking the spoon from jack, turning the stovetop's dial down a notch. "wait, is it not?"

another kissed was pressed to your temple, a hand splayed on your hip. "anything you make is my favorite."

"no." you huffed a laugh, turning around to face him and waving the spoon at him, "don't pull that. is this not your favorite?"

"well," aaron exhaled a breath, his head cocked a bit to the side as he considered how to approach the bench. he could try and convince you that yes, it was, but at your exasperated expression, he knew you wouldn't accept anything else. "it's good. but if i'm being honest, it wouldn't be my first choice, no."

your shoulders fell in slight defeat, but aaron craned his neck down to glance at jack, who had been suspiciously quiet. in fairness, aaron knew what was going on the second he realized what was cooking.

as if he could feel his father's stare, jack peeked up, eyes lined with the small guilt of being caught, but accompanied with a smile. he knew, that dad knew.

aaron's eyebrows lifted, the ends of his pursed lips raised in amusement. "but if i recall correctly, it may be a certain, someone else's favorite."

it took you less than a second to catch on.

"jack!" you whine-laughed, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you told me tortellini was your dad's favorite."

he blinked at you, playing up the innocence in eyes. "i thought it was."

"just like how you thought dad needed ice cream sundaes afterwards too?" you arched in eyebrow in question. that, you knew was jack's own request, but you decided to indulge him anyway when he mentioned it as the two of you were shopping for ingredients.

jack nodded with a toothy smile, clearly proud of himself. "uh huh."

"okay you sneaky little bug," you hoisted jack up from the chair, placing him down. "how 'bout you go set the table. dinner's just about ready."

as jack scurried off to the dining room, again, an embarrassed laugh escaped you. "i feel silly-"

"sweetheart," aaron stopped you. "this is wonderful. a homecooked meal, prepared by my favorite person. with the help of my son, although the cunning sous chef? there's not much i can complain about."

"but i thought-"

"whatever you thought, still applies. i am surprised. i'm thrilled to be coming home to a warm dinner. i'm touched you thought of me. i'm so sick of takeout, you have no idea."

by your slight off-putting expression, aaron could tell you still weren't convinced. hopefully, his next playful remark would further settle you, easing your mind.

"i also think it's hilarious jack managed to pull this on you."

you immediately snorted a laugh through your nose, prompting a laugh to exit aaron too. "i have a soft spot for the hotchner boys, what can i say."

"and we love you for it." aaron teased, giving you a quick kiss. "do you need help with anything else?"

you nodded, your expression softening to normal, one of content. "there's fixings for a salad, if you wanted to quickly throw that together?"

the two of you worked silently, simply enjoying each other's company; aaron tossed the salad together, complete with romaine, miscellaneous vegetables, adding a garlic vinaigrette. meanwhile, you oversaw the sauce, making sure the salt amount was just enough to bring out the flavor, but not overpower.

"what is it?" you asked suddenly, tapping the spoon against the edge of the pot to return any lingering sauce.

"what's what?"

"your favorite meal. i can't believe i don't know."

"i already told you." aaron pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. "anything you make."

you retreated with a hmph and a playful eye roll, resisting the urge to smile. you lifted the pot from the stovetop, trailing over to the sink to dump the pasta into the strainer. aaron followed, fingers slipping into your belt loops and pulling you against him suggestively.

"if you're looking for a PG answer, that is."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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barcaatthemoon · 6 months

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serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||

leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.

it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.

you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.

it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.

"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"

"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.

"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."

"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.

"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.

"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."

"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."

"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.

"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.

"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.

"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.

"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.

"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."

"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"

"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."

"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"

"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"

"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.

"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."

"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader

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duke-daemon · 8 months

Text

hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo

okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3

just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.

hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.

now for the characters!

---

VAGGIE VALTIEL:

starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.

CHARLIE:

next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!

the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition

tangent time!

as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)

back to the characters

Alastor:

note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning

with that being said...

alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does

(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)

Angel Dust:

TW: brief discussion of SA

this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.

i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.

LUTE:

so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...

with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties

i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.

Adam + Final Thoughts

i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell

final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios

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forgeofthenine · 29 days

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Ok so we've had tail HCs for a non-tief SO, how about some tail headcanons WITH a tief SO? Which of the boys would notice them doing the horny tail thing at them first? Would they notice but pretend NOT to to be polite, or just start doing it back and confusing everyone in the party except for Karlach etc etc 👀👀 - my tief!Tav would like to know, for a "friend", who may or may not be very horny for Dammon *wink wink nudge nudge* XD

Surprise, guess who's dropping in :)

I'm currently rotting away at home while recovering from a work injury so I thought I'd finish this request up. Luckily I shouldn't be away from work too long (though the injury is looking slightly more iffy recovery time wise than we first thought). I hope you all enjoy, I love some casual tail stuff being dropped in my requests. I'm also slightly shocked that it's taken me this long to write for a female character considering I'm very much bisexual...

The Bachelors (+Karlach) when your tail gives away your feelings

Dammon

Dammon is a very perceptive person, deceptively so

Having lived in the hells for even a short time will do that to a person

Naturally, he tends to look at peoples body language

So you can bet he notices every little curl and lift of your tail when you come to visit his forge

He's also quick to show his own interest, curling and flicking his own tail in a less than subtle way

If you didn't realise that you were even doing 'the tail thing' you'd definitely notice Dammon doing it back to you

It's honestly something he finds extremely flattering, having someone showing such open interest in him is a definite ego boost

And Dammon is a very confident man, he has no qualms about anyone seeing him return such a display of affection

When the two of you are together it's like you're having full conversations only through your tails

Your party members also have no idea why Karlach is always laughing at the sight and leading them away

She will tell you later on to "hurry up and get on with it" with a firm slap on the back

Dammon is definitely a very happy tiefling when you take her advice and wrap your tail around his for the first time

Zevlor

He genuinely convinced himself that he's just imagining things

This poor, tired paladin is so convinced that someone like you would never see him in that light

So when you start doing the tail thing Zevlor completely ignores it at first

It doesn't matter how obvious you are, you could bend over his desk and curl it up over your back like you're in heat, and he'd still believe it's not what he thinks

And everyone can see the way you're pining for him, curling your tail up and away from your body every time he speaks

Zevlor is also mildly scandalised by how open you are with the gesture, only learning later from Karlach that you have no clue what it means

It becomes a regular thing for you two, much to the dismay of all the other tieflings around, purely because Zevlor is just slightly too embarrassed to mention it

It's only after the tiefling refugees are safe, and he's had a few drinks in him, that he'll indulge your long standing desires

Though it's only in private that he'll respond to it, his tail carefully curling and winding around your own

Rolan

The first time Rolan sees you curl your tail like that he almost chokes on what he was drinking

Your fussing over him as he coughs doesn't help the blush growing on his cheeks

He tries to ignore when you do it, despite the fact his own tail itches to reciprocate

Once Cal and Lia see you lift your tail while talking to Rolan it's all over for him

The teasing is absolutely endless, to the point he'll start to blush when you merely enter the same room the three siblings are in

It's a wonder he doesn't simply pass out when you do the tail thing while talking to him with your crew and the other tieflings around, he looks like he's about to

As much as he enjoys the sight, it's all horribly embarrassing that everyone knows, though it's not embarrassing enough for him to stop you

It takes a long time, and plenty of confidence gathering, but Rolan does eventually do the tail thing back

He has to make sure you two are absolutely alone first, but it's very apparent when he returns the gesture

Though, Rolan looks just as grumpy as always while doing it

Karlach

Karlach has few ways of showing affection to people she cares about while her body is still a walking furnace

When she sees the way your tail curls and lifts as you speak to her she's absolutely beaming

Karlach responds almost immediately, her tail mirroring your own in a clear expression of interest

The others in the group can't figure out why the two of you are animatedly moving your tails, they end up deciding it's just a normal tiefling thing

If you don't even realise what it is you're doing and question why her tail is 'like that' she'll absolutely cackle

Expect to never live it down and to always be lovingly teased over it

It becomes a regular thing for everyone on the crew to see, they do ask questions when the two of you don't do it while talking to other tieflings though

Karlach doesn't only express her interest in how her tail moves, you'll get plenty of flirting from her too

But doing the tail thing is a simple way for you two to reinforce your interest in each other until you're able to touch her

Dammon, having seen how you both interact, is hardly shocked at how quickly Karlach intertwines her tail with yours when she's able to touch others again

She's still going to do the tail thing to tease you though

#bri answers #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 dammon #baldurs gate 3 dammon #dammon x reader #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #bg3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 rolan #rolan x reader #bg3 karlach #baldurs gate 3 karlach #karlach x reader

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silverzoomies · 8 months

Text

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you. You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...” His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выгл��дишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!

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cutielando · 10 months

Text

thank you | r.c.

synopsis: in which he can't thank you enough for loving him

my masterlist

Rafe was a lot of things, but you'd have never thought that he was a hopeless romantic.

When you first started dating, he wasn't overly affectionate or loving per se, just like you expected him to be.

However, that all changed after he confided in you about his problems with his father. More specifically, after you caught the two of them in an argument.

He had texted you in the morning asking you to meet up later in the evening to have a sleepover, but you had arrived 2 hours earlier to surprise him.

"God damn it, Rafe!" you heard a booming voice shouting as soon as you opened your car's door.

Just as you closed it and went to get your things from the trunk, you heard glass shattering from inside.

Assuming the worst, you immediately ran inside towards the noise, which proved to be coming from the kitchen.

When your boyfriend came into your view, you couldn't help but gasp.

His eyes were bloodshot, he had a massive bruise covering his jaw, he had a busted lip and his knuckles were bloodied and bruised.

"What happened?" you asked, walking in and seeing Ward on the floor and some broken glass underneath him.

The two men looked at each other, both of them fuming.

Rafe said nothing as he took your hand and led you up the stairs to his bedroom, not saying a single word the entire time.

"Are you okay?" you asked him once you were alone in his room.

He didn't say anything but looked at you with the most broken expression you'd ever seen. He looked so small, so fragile just standing there after being to a pulp by his own father.

"No" his voice broke as he managed to utter out a single word.

You sighed and pulled him into your arms, your hands running up and down his back. He was holding onto you for dear life, like you were going to vanish from his arms in the next second.

He started sobbing into your neck, letting out everything he had been keeping bottled up for a long time. Your shirt was soaked by his tears, but you couldn't care less.

Rafe needed you and you didn't care about anything else other than him.

You stayed like that for a good 15 minutes before he started to calm down and his sobs quieted down.

"Do you want me to run you a bath? You could lay on me and just relax in the warm water" you whispered in his ear, afraid that speaking any louder would disturb the quiet atmosphere.

"Yeah, I'd like that" he said, slowly pulling away from you.

You gave him a small smile, trying to show him that you were there for him and everything was going to be okay. You weren't leaving his side until he felt better.

He gave you a smile back and leaned down to peck your lips slightly, any more contact hurting his busted lip.

You stepped out of his arms and quickly worked your way around his bathroom, lighting some candles and choosing some bath bombs to put in the water.

"Baby? The bath is ready" you told him as you stuck your head through the bathroom door.

He slowly stood up and undressed as you did the same, folding his clothes and putting them on the washing machine.

You got in the tub first and leaned against it while Rafe got in after and laid with his back against your chest.

"You're too good for me" he whispered as you kept tracing imaginary lines on his chest with your nails, trying your best to calm him down.

"No, I'm not. You deserve the best life has to offer. You're such a kind soul, baby. You came into my life and made it so much better, gave it a meaning and someone to keep fighting for. Baby, I love you so damn much, it's you and I until the end of the road. I'll always be here when you need me and you will always have my support in everything. Don't ever doubt that" you finished your speech by kissing his neck and cheek.

You couldn't see it but Rafe had tears in his eyes, but this time they were happy tears.

He never thought he would find someone who would want to be with him despite his many flaws, his anger issues, his jealousy problems, his family problems, everything.

But here you were, loving him for who he was, with his flaws and problems, with everything that he represented. And he couldn't be more grateful for you, for coming into his life and showing him that he deserved to be loved and showing him what love really was.

"I love you too, so fucking much, Y/N. I can't even understand why you are with me but I am so damn grateful you are. I can't live without you, baby. My life is not the same without you in it and I will do everything in my power to keep you and make you happy because you deserve the best. Thank you, for everything, baby"

He turned his head and kissed your lips, sealing a silent agreement between the both of you that neither of you was going anywhere.

You were in it for the long haul and nothing could change that.

Nothing and nobody could come between the two of you and your love.

Nothing.

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 months

Text

Day In | Vox x Fem Gen Z!Reader

A/N — f/c = favorite color. It's used like once, but I thought I should clarify for anyone who might get confused <3. Just a little nonsense drabble showing what a classic day off could look like.

Warnings: Valentino existing

Word Count: 440

Summary: Spending a day with the Vees in the tower — only so much could happen

"I hope when you microwave those leftovers later, the container is piping hot but the center of the food is colder than your dead heart." Your cool tone pierced the silence of the room, with your arms crossed over your chest, noting how Vox didn't even look in your direction, instead glancing to Valentino to see his reply.

After what happened in your first month, you weren't all that surprised that he was avoiding you as much as humanly possible.

"I can just mix it up and put it back in for a couple more minutes, I thought you were smarter than that." The moth demon replied.

"That's not the point I'm trying to make, asshole. And you know it."

You had been forced into spending 'quality' time with everyone on the very rare day off.

Avoiding talking to Velvette about the design concepts you drew up for her, and your obvious problems with Vox that stemmed from you being, as he put it: 'a disrespectful little shit'; your only other option was to immerse yourself in spending time with Valentino.

Not your greatest moment.

The bitch wouldn't let you touch the f/c jewels to bedazzle your phone case because he was insistent on using them for his new gun.

It was downright hoe behavior.

"You should calm down, Miel."

You cringed and reached for the glue and the jewels that happened to be your second favorite color. "Don't call me that."

"Why are you taking those ones?" Valentino questioned, glancing at the box of jewels that now laid before you.

"Because I fucking can, Mothman."

"Voxy ~ she's being mean."

The TV demon groaned and looked as if he wanted to slam his screened face into the table until he blacked out from damage to the motherboard.

Velvette snorted and took pictures 'for memories'.

"I wouldn't be mean if you weren't hogging the best color." You huffed, annoyed.

"That's a lie, you and I both know it, babes." Velvette piped up, the sketches before her long abandoned.

"Fine, I'd be less mean. . . What should we eat?" You questioned.

"The flat faced prince picks tonight." Velvette announced.

"Go fuck yourself." Vox said smoothly, although he glitched.

You groaned.

"Pick something good. Or else." You threatened lightly. The boys had a habit of picking stuff only they liked, which left you and Velvette to be the more considerate ones so that you didn't have to hear their bitching.

"Italian?" Vox questioned the table.

"Sounds good." Valentino hummed, placing the last jewel on his gun.

Sounded better than steak for the second night in a row. . . For the second time that week.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin vox #fem reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin x reader #vox imagine #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #gen z reader #x reader

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luxxid · 2 years

Note

Request for Genshin characters reacting to their s/o getting dressed up? (Like it’s rare to see them be extra radiant than they already are? 😍)

PRETTY DOLL!

in which you look absolutely pretty for them <3

ayato, albedo, al haitham, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, tartaglia, heizou, scaramouche.

the smile on ayato's ephebic face seemed to drop as it was split agape, crimson settles on either side of his face, seeming to reach on his forehead, his aquiline locks covered his embarrassed figure. "well~ how do i look?" you inquired teasingly, twirling around in your tight fabric, oh how adorable you looked. the blue cotton fabric hugged your dips and curves so nicely. his gaze only deepened as he let out a deep sigh, as if he were trying to take it all in; the long sleeves, the puffy skirt, the way it all fit you so perfectly. you could see the admiration reflecting from his eyes, and you knew he was thinking it too - you looked absolutely heavenly. "y-you look gorgeous love." he mumbled, not taking his eyes off of you. oh, how could he not? you looked way too ravishing for him to control the growing bulge. "but i think you would look even more alluring without all of this." he ended before you felt the sensation of his warm lips against yours.

albedo was smiling to himself, almost as if he was amused by your sudden appearance. not that he wasn't. although, you did look a bit too bodacious for him to control. thank the seven archons that klee wasn't here. the beige dress that reached till your knees matched his hair, his eyes lit up, his grin widening as he welcomed your presence warmly; he couldn't help but be charmed by your outfit and demeanour. his steps were directed to you, almost immediately forgetting about what he was experimenting about. his eyes travelled your whole figure before he averred teasingly "you must have cast a spell on me with that dress, or I'd still be in there, testing my theories." his hands casted to your face before he guided to his face, moulding his lips against your neck. his hands wandered around your thighs, softly grabbing the plush. oh well, you were more interesting than his studies.

al haitham displayed no expression, but his actions spoke louder than words. he tossed his book onto the nearest desk before pinning your hands to the wall, the puffy sleeves dangled lightly above you. "you sure know how to get my attention," he said with a teasing smirk, as his eyes locked with yours. "now I have yours," he added, his voice low and alluring, as he leaned ever-so-slightly closer. "I thought I'd have to do something a bit more daring to get your attention," you replied with a smirk, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "i guess i was wrong.". he raised an eyebrow, his face betraying a hint of surprise. "that's a bold statement," he said, his voice still low and alluring. "but I'm intrigued." that being the last thing he stated before his lips and yours were conjoined in a warm and loving embrace.

diluc was almost as red as his hair. "do i look good?" you questioned, noticing his visible change in demeanor. he trailed off, his eyes brightening with an intensity that made your heart flutter. His words hung in the air as he stepped closer, his hands wrapping around your waist. "let me show you just how beautiful you are," he breathed against your lips before kissing you. his lips were soft and gentle, and you felt like you were melting in his embrace. his gaze made you feel like the most desirable person in the world.

kaeya's visible smirk seems to widen even more, almost as if he had expected you to be adorned in this fabric. kaeya teasingly commented, "you look quite ravishing, my dear" as he stepped closer, admiring the way the dress hugged your curves and how your hair was let loose in a coy manner. he was happy that no one else other than him wasn't around to witness the moment, as he was certain he would be less than pleased if anyone else was present. he leaned in, brushing your cheek with a soft kiss and whispered, "this dress is as beautiful as you are, my love." his cold lips sent shivers down your spine. his frigid hands desperately tugged at the sleeves of your dress. good luck walking tomorrow!

kazuha abides a bleak smile, soft chuckles emitted from him as he toddled closer to you. holding your hands in his, he teases, "you look absolutely ethereal, dove" his fingers tangle with yours, intertwining in the process. his voice is low and soft, yet with a hint of playfulness in it. he smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. you can't help but smile back, feeling the warmth of his touch as you squeeze his hands. he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a few moments before he draws back and stares into your eyes. you both stand there, lost in each other's embrace, before finally he breaks the silence with a whisper, "i love you."

tartaglia was carmine stained, his breathing erratic. oh god, you looked so heavenly. his concentration had only come upon him when your melodious giggles had reached his ears. the feeling of two velvety hands placed on either side of his cheeks were felt, as he gazed upon you. his hands sorely rattled against your waist before pulling you closer to him. "do you feel as beautiful as you look?" he whispered, his lips hovering over yours. he kissed you again, this time more passionately, and you felt your knees weaken beneath you. "why, yes i do." you stated, a playful smirk crept up on your as you placed your arms over his shoulders. "then why don't you prove it?" he teased, pulling away to look into your eyes. you winked and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the room and into the night where a million stars shone in anticipation for what was to come. checkmate childe!

heizou's hands twirls with your locks, dandling every strand. his other hand travels up to your figure, feeling the mundane plush. his burgundy locks fall over his head as he draws closer to you. his fingertips linger, drawing a line from the nape of your neck down to your lower back. heizou teases you by lightly stroking your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet firm, as if he was trying to memorize your body with his fingertips. you can tell he's taking his time, savouring every moment as if he's trying to commit it to memory. "trying to impress me, my love?" his voice chaffed, his lips slowly curve into a soft smile as he meets your gaze, sending a spark of excitement through your body. abruptly, he stops and pulls away, leaving you wanting more. he looks into your eyes, his own smouldering with desire. "I'm sure you can do better than that, let me show you" he murmurs, that being the last thing before his lips sank against yours.

a scarlet tint powdered scaramouche's face, his eyes gloating into your contour, almost as if he just couldn't keep his eyes from gawking straight at you. his deep crimson cheeks were accentuated by his intent gaze, as if he was trying to captivate you with his piercing stare. "are you okay?" you asked concernedly. "shut up! you know what your doing." his voice came bouncing back. scaramouche's face was flushed in red. his eyes darted away from yours, as if he couldn't handle the intensity of your gaze. his cheeks were a brighter red than before, and he stammered nervously as he spoke. "I-I'm fine," he said, trying to regain his composure. "are you blushing? that's cute," you teased, raising your eyebrow playfully. scaramouche's blush only deepened, and he avoided your gaze, unable to hide his mortification. "oh yeah? i'll show you what's cute." his words melted against you before his pallid lips hit your stark warm lips. once again, he won!

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #ayato x reader #albedo x reader #al haitham x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #heizou x reader #scaramouche x reader #fluff #genshin x reader fluff #:(((#idk bro #tumblr algorithm

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bonebabbles · 15 days

Text

Ivypool's Heart: Finished

Just completed reading the new super edition! I'm pleasantly surprised by this one. Overall, this was a very good book, MUCH better than the past 3 which were some of the most boring and unnecessary entries to the entire franchise.

If you were on the fence about this one, I'd recommend it. Just take this warning; it does the Warrior Cats thing where it harps pretty strong on parenthood and nuclear families being a borderline essential part of life, including a ton of bashing on how uniquely horrible this makes the Sisters.

If you can get past that, it's a pretty solid story about grief that makes some really fun additions to the WC lore, including the wildcats, StormClan, and a broad expansion to the afterlife system.

Meandering thoughts below the cut;

One of IPH's biggest flaws is pacing, but it's not nearly as bad as the past 3 SEs.

Not to mention, this is a pretty small SE. If you're ever bored, it won't last long.

Before the book introduces the Wildcats, it REALLY meanders. It'll pick up, but you will have to wade through relatively uninteresting scenes of the cats traveling and talking about their feelings unprompted.

A lot of "quicktime events" happen out of nowhere to fill pages with cats running away from random bullshit.

There's a horse carriage, an apple picker, dogs, weasels, foxes, a storm, traffic, humans, boats, sandwhiches. It's endless. My eyes glazed over during most of these scenes.

I know a lot of people were dreading Ivypool being nasty and unreasonable during this book, but honestly? I was hoping for it and didn't really receive it.

I find her most compelling when she's holding a grudge, acting on her anger, and generally working through messy issues. But aside from her just thinking about being annoyed or angry, she's really not snappy at all.

I feel like there could have been a lot more interesting and organic conflict between Icewing, Dovewing, and Ivypool's personalities instead of boring Quicktime Events. In fact, I felt like Icewing and Dovewing were kind of underutilized.

The conversations often feel quite stiff, especially in the first half. Everyone is very understanding of each other, respect boundaries and knows not to push too far, resolve their personal issues very easily, etc. It's kinda... unnatural.

Personally, I found that disappointing because I WANTED to see the cats actually process their grief over the course of the book. Watch them act out, maybe get in an fight or two and resolve it for the sake of the mission, have them come to a greater understanding of each other, etc.

Because Icewing and Dovewing are both so motherly and gentle and we're in Ivypool's POV, we don't really get to see them process their grief because of that.

They're not TOTALLY neglected though! I just... wanted more from this group.

However. I wanted LESS Rootspring.

I understand he's there to process the loss of Bristlefrost with Ivypool but god, every time he was on screen I wanted to push him aside and talk to Icewing lmao.

Stop trying to sell me "cool, mellowed from grief" Rootspring. He's a silly little hyperactive man and you will never be able to convince me otherwise.

As a silly little hyperactive semi-manthing myself, it would have been a lot more cathartic to see a clown like me going through grief. Not to mention just generally make for better chemistry with the group.

Between Ice and Dove who are already quite chill as characters, Whistle could have used someone more goofy to bounce off of.

I REALLY didn't like the whole implication that Rootspring is going to move on from Bristlefrost and "find a mother" for the kittens he wants so badly, though.

Erins PLEASE remember that adoption exists. He does not need a wife to be a dad. I'm beaming myself directly into your brains and telepathy-ing directions to the nearest cat adoption agency

aaaaaand on that note.... yeah. I did not like the way that this book leaned so hard on the whole "nuclear family" dynamic. Ivypool has had like two major interactions with her husband and one JUST happened in this book.

It especially bugged me that they leaned into Ivypool having been a very active mother, when we saw very little of that in the ACTUAL book. It wasn't even mentioned that Fernsong was allegedly the primary parent of the kittens when they were young.

But... I was able to look past it and just accept the book in a vacuum. There's a lot of good here.

Like the wildcats.

While I'm still wary of these being Scottish Wildcats and reserve my misgivings about the misuse of species that are very unlike domestic cats... I LOOOOVEEE the culture they've set up for them

I LOVEE the way that individual spirits reach out to the kits, guiding them through life

I LOVE the connection to StormClan

I LOVE their idea of the elements and general spirituality

And I LOVED the fact that a big part of Ivypool coming to terms with her grief was the expansion of her worldview. The way that she realized the religion she was raised with is quite small, and that there is an immense beauty in coming to understand other cultures, accept their advice, and see the world as they do.

I just wish the book had been able to tie that to a flaw that Ivypool has expressed since her very introduction back in OotS-- that she's smallminded.

It would have been a FANTASTIC way to really tackle and address that flaw, and pay off literal decades of set up. I really wish she had been messier in this book because of that!

But, digressing.

I'm over the moon that the team's actually playing with the series' spirituality! After such a long time of them outright avoiding some of the weirder elements in the series, like Rock and Midnight, it's exciting that they're finding some freedom in making new magic lore for themselves.

Hopefully, in the next few super editions, we'll be able to get some more insight to StormClan and the Wildcats.

The book really hits its stride in the second half because of this, and the ending chapters are actually fantastic. Some of the best stuff that's come out of the series (on purpose) in a loooong time.

#bones reads iph #Ivypool's Heart Spoilers #And with that... I must now consider what to keep for BB and what to not.

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 year

Note

I just wanted to say that the way you characterize and talk about Miguel has actually really helped me with thinking about how to write for him 😭 genuinely I love the way you describe him as an actual like person and not just some sex addict or someone who's extremely distant and cold. I hope you continue writing mild Miguel because it's so refreshing compared to all the other shit I see 😭💕

THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS A MIGUEL SAFE SPACE AND LIKE- CAN I BE REAL FOR A SECOND???

MIGUEL ISN'T AN ASSHOLE YOU PEOPLE ARE JUST MEAN - A.K.A -

My Defense & Evidence of a Milder, Non-aggressive Sympathetic Miguel O'hara.

[This is a half-break down half rant about Mild Miguel, when we see Miguel's true nature, and what fandom gets wrong about him. I have my evidence.

this is shorter than my usual posts but I'm going absolute apeshit Miguel Mode by the end so sorry you have to see that.]

I think Miguel and Hobie are the two most complex characters in the film. Like - both of them equally.

It's just really easy to explain one over the other.

I feel this way because every character we see in the entire movie - Miles, Gwen, Peter, Jess, Rio, Jeff, The Spot, everyone - is forthcoming and clear about their intentions and motive throughout the movie.

When we're watching the movie the first time, we understand Miles motive, and Peter's, and Gwen. In real time. It's there and stated. Miles wants to save his dad, Peter wants to be a better mentor, Gwen just wants peace basically.

But when we're watching for the first time - we have no idea what Hobie OR Miguel is capable of until they do it.

They are the two we're surprised by. (And they're also exact opposites who somehow don't seem to be complete adversaries)

They're the only two within the film who we are left to speculate their motive, their drive, and what they'll do next.

They're the only two in the film who are truly meant to catch us off guard with their behavior.

Leading up to Hobie's big twist, there was a LOT of misdirection. I think the same is true for Miguel...but like..the fandom isn't picking up on the misdirection AT ALL.

I have a lot of ideas and thoughts about Miguel and his character and honestly I think it's the exact opposite of what the fandom sees.

But when its's Hobie, it's very easy to understand him, just read the wiki on Punk and you're good.

But I don't think anyone has look closer at Miguel yet.

I genuinely believe that the reason Miles got away was because Miguel went soft.

He was watching the videos of Gaby to remind himself why he was doing this - why he had to stand his ground, but when Miles started panicking, and begging to know how much time he had left - Miguel slipped up. He went soft.

And he told him 'two days'.

You can see it in Miguel's face when Miles is asking.

That's not the face of a man considering assault. That's not anger. He's wavering.

He didn't have to tell Miles how long he had left. But he did - why? Cause he thought 'I'd kill for two days with Gabby. A lot of people get less warning about death - Maybe he can spend those two days with his fath-'

and then Miles is like 'word?? two days to stop you?? iight im out also fuck yall' - which understandable have a nice day

But like......Miguel wouldn't have said it if he knew it would fuck him over. He didn't KNOW Miles was radicalized cause he didn't know Hobie had spoken to him. He thought that telling him might convince him. If he knew Miles was gonna run - there's no need to tell him anything.

He could've lied and said "I DON'T KNOW. But maybe let's talk about this."

But he didn't. He slipped up.

He's SOFT. Everytime he's mean, or angry - He has to think about it. Like when he looked at Hobie - and thought about it. He has to MAKE himself do it. It isn't natural to him.

Nobody else in the room was gonna answer Miles. Miles wouldn't have known. But Miguel told him two days. And because of that, that specific slip-up, Miles is trying to save his dad.

Why? Because he's SOFT. CAPITAL S SOFT.

Miguel is not a raging monster. Or aggressive. Or manipulative.

He's a guy who thinks he's holding the universe together with duct tape and a kid is in front of him begging to know how long they have left with their father and he tells them and because of that they get away and now everything he worked for is gonna emplode in his face because he had a SOFT SPOT FOR A KID AGAIN AND DID SOMETHING HE SHOULDN'T AGAIN AND TOLD HIM AND NOW PEOPLE ARE GONNA DIE AGAIN BECAUSE HE MESSED WITH THE MULTIVERSE AGAIN FUCK-

Like...yeah- he snapped. A normal person would snap. I've snapped for way less and a lot of other people have.

Granted, we don't go mauling children.

I don't know, I just feel like he's an incredibly layered character.

Because when he's ranting and screaming at Gwen like an irritated school teacher we're already like 'oh fuck you dude but also fuck you ;)'

so when he's right there doing things like this - we don't see it. The same way we don't see Hobie's stealing - because we think we have him figured out.

We don't see Miguel's tenderness.

Because we assume we know who he is - he's cold and aggressive and rude and hates Miles,

but like...is he really?

Miles is getting upset - and the whole conversation leading up to it Miguel has talked to him from a far, hands when Miles can see them. He's not trying to stand over him, or intimidate him. Miguel knows he's scary. He knows how to be scary.

He isn't trying to scare Miles. The exact opposite. He's trying to comfort him.

And when Miles starts lashing out - Miguel is genuinely surprised. That isn't the look of someone who THINKS he's about to hurt this kid.

He's telling Miles, hands up "Hey, sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you." He immediately lets go, backs up.

I just---- FUCK, PEOPLE THE MAN IS STANDING RIGHT THERE THATS MILD MIGUEL LOOK AT HIM

If you really really think Miguel is naturally aggressive, or angry, or cold -

If you write him that way -

I ask that you rewatch the leading up to Miles' escape. Look at his body language. Watch him, and look at his face. That's all I ask.

I just kjsjrghjkSIGHIDDGU I CAN'T STAND FOR THIS INJUSTICE AND EMOTIONAL ILLITERACY

HES NOT A GOOD GUY BUT LIKE....HE'S ... THE ONE YALL ARE SERVING...COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MAN.

He's SOFT. The same way he caved for Gwen after a little pushing. He caved for Miles after a little pushing. That's why he told him two days. SOFT

MILD MIGUEL, SOFT MIGUEL, WANTS TO DO THE HARD THING BUT FUCK HE CAN'T DO IT MIGUEL, HAS TO STAND COMPLETELY STILL AND UNMOVING TO NOT CAVE TO MAYDAY MIGUEL, MIGUEL WHO LOVES PEOPLE BUT KEEPS HIS DISTANCE AND SHUTS HIS MOUTH BECAUSE PEOPLE GET HURT MIGUEL MIGUEL MIGUEL

I'm going to go Miguel Mode.

If understanding Hobie was a house, the fandom is standing out on the road.

If understanding Miguel was a house, the people aren't even in the same neighborhood. We're in the next state over. Other side of the globe. Off base by like 12 zipcodes and 4 times zones

Mild Miguel. Please tell me you're seeing this.

Am I crazy for thinking that the slip up - of telling Miles two days - wasn't out of stupidity but PITY? SYMPATHY?

Because Miguel thinks getting to spend two whole days with some you'll lose is a BLESSING to him - not a curse.

Even though to ANY non-traumatized person - it would be a curse.

...... yo

Miguel stepped into Gabriellas life because he didn't want her to lose a father. He KNOWS losing a father hurts.

So when Miles is there in front of him, talking about not wanting to lose his father - Miguel KNOWS how he feels. Gabby didn't want to lose her dad either.

Miguel UNDERSTANDS. He's a FATHER -

HE KNOWS HE'S BEING THE BAD GUY HE KNOWS ITS WRONG NOT TO STEP IN THATS WHY HE STEPPED IN FOR GABRIELLA IN THE FIRST PLACE THIS ISN'T THE PERSON HE WANTS TO BE OR THOUGHT HE'D BECOME YOU PEOPLE ARE MEAN AND HORNY -

I- I can't even i'm sorry I -

I have a longer post about this in the works like breaking down all of his body language from his moments with MJ and Hobie and like teverything

but ITS NOT EVEN LIKE I THINK HE'S RIGHT I JUST CANT STAND PEOPLE BEING THIS WRONG ABOUT IT I CANT

If you see him as aggressive or cold this post isn't meant to be an attack. I am just down bad for Mild Miguel and I'm going delirious with hunger and starvation for him

#Justice4MildMiguel Maybe I'm huffing copium but also i know im fucking not he's RIGHT THERE

[And if you hate Miguel like hate hate him Moche says dishonor on you dishonor on your cow dishonor your family and your land in the name of Aia Paec Almighty]

If you made it this far....Imsorry you had to see me that way I don't know what came over me here's a picture of Hobie to help me calm down.

(aka Hobie judging the fuck outta me in my head)

I need a glass of water. Bye.

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crepesuzette2023 · 10 months

Note

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

#fic rec #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon fic #asks #fic recs #overall favorites fic recs

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