#why would I assume they were for anyone you left them out.
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itsabouttimex2 · 5 hours ago
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Yes! <3 I love the concept of Macaque and Y/N both being yandere for Wukong!!! How do you think they would react when they see Wukong in the future (after Macaque is resurrected) as a retired deity!? With a student (MK)?! Oh I would love to know how they plot to get Wukong back and the punishment for killing Macaque?! I wonder how the other characters would feel about it? Do they know about Wukong’s obsessive/possessive “lovers” or do they think that Wukong is overreacting and see nothing wrong with them?!?!
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Our Sweet Sage
(Yandere Y/N and Macaque x Sun Wukong)
Even "just" putting Y/N beside Macaque as a yandere for the Great Sage himself is going to; though perhaps not radically, change the story, because the reader would basically have to be part of the Brotherhood alongside the two Mystic Monkeys (This is assuming Y/N isn't the Long-Armed Gibbon or Red-Buttocked Baboon themselves!) if they and the resident umbrakinetic are working in tandem to snare this lovely simian as their mutual "darling".
The most likely course being ran is that you and Macaque are partners already, on your end spending long loving days in your own little corner of Flower Fruit Mountain, lathing tongue to dark skin and darker fur and secretly, shamefully, simmeringly longing for a brighter hue, counting from hours to minutes to the tortorously long seconds that you spend away from him, sweet, sunny, him. Him, him, him, on your mind and in your heart and struck through the core of your being, leaving the desire to take and have and love.
gold eyes and soft fur and sweet lips and a thousand more "ands" that leave your mind spiraling into a pitch abyss of obsession, too snared to crack these lovesick chains and be content with here and now when then and there are and is him him him with his laugh and smile and perfect fangs that you would feed and nourish to bring happiness to him and only him and never anyone but him because he should be yours like you want to be his and then he would love you like you love him him him him him
Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Future Mate and Husband-To-Be, waiting for a wedding ring and a diamond cuff around both wrists and maybe a chain between them or even a collar and a leash with a shiny golden tag so that EVERYONE will know that- HE. IS. YOURS. and there will be NO EXCUSE!! or FORGIVENESS! if ANYONE or ANYTHING on this wretched and UNLOVING planet dares to touch WHAT! IS! YOURS!
And the one day that you let it slip, the truth fed by wine held in a goblet, only at your sweetly poisonous lips for the fact that it is held by your umbral mate, purring and upon you in arm and leg and tail, wrapped like a snake but twice as toxic, crooning for you to take more and more and more because there's still some love left in his heart for you and inebriation will soften the truth's blow, perhaps, so he quenches you with man's oldest potion.
And then it oozes out, easy and low and sick, "I wish Wukong were here instead~" and Macaque agrees. Because yes, a hundred lives and deaths over, yes, it would be better if the Great Sage were here!
And it starts-
"His perfect fangs-" "And those soft lips-" "All his lovely fur-" "That sweet scent-"
-until neither of you remembers who is saying or has said what, and every loving detail has been remarked upon at least twice, and you both have drained half the cellar, as much as half because you needed to toast to how perfect your mate is, as few as half because you'll need the rest to celebrate a three-way marriage already in the making and there will be hell to pay if the love of your lives is not happy and drunk with you.
You and Macaque. Both. Always. Because even with all the obsessive longing, you still love each other just enough to share, to plot, to scheme in tandem, in perfect, twisted harmony.
The idea is so natural, so blatantly obvious, that you wonder why it never took root before now. You love Macaque, yes, but hardly with every "breath and pulse of your being"- the space in your heart has always had a third shape carved into it, waiting to be filled with warmth, and Wukong, your radiant, incandescent star, was obviously meant to burn there.
Macaque sees it, as clearly through your eyes as he sees it through his own, and though his smirk is slow and knowing, his own claws tighten possessively at your wrists, tail curling at your waist. You are still his, and he is still yours, and now, so soon, so inevitably, Wukong will be something undeniably and mutually owned.
"We'll make it work," Macaque murmurs, voice velvet and honeyed darkness, pressing his forehead to yours. "We'll have to, if we want him."
You lay together, lip to lip and hip to hip, entwined like leeching vines and between you is a plan unfurled like the petals of deadly nightshade.
Sun Wukong, for all his strength and cunning, has a weakness or two-and there is one you both know well. He trusts. He believes in his own charm, his own invincibility, his own legend. And you, oh, you and Macaque, you are shadows and whispers and waiting teeth, predators in love.
And that is a behaviour that persists long after the Brotherhood fails, all through the agony he endures buried under the weight of a mountain built five centuries strong, even after he is stolen away by that damned monk, and... you lose Macaque. Your plans are sunk for at least a few hundred years, and you run off into the night, bunkering down to scurry for scraps of power in order to enact an old ritual.
In return, the king receives a a life of peace, of redemption, of something more than battle and blood.
He retires.
Steps away from the chaos of gods and demons, finds a place to rest his weary soul. Takes a student, even! A bright, eager boy with a wide grin and an open heart, someone to teach, to mold, to guide away from the mistakes of his own past. It’s a good life, a quiet one.
But good is a fragile, fleeting thing.
And the past does not stay buried.
You claw your way back to your partner in obsession, your tether in darkness, and Macaque claws his way back to you. The ritual works. It takes centuries, a hundred whispered incantations and sacrifices, the unraveling of fate itself- but it works.
Macaque breathes again. His heart beats again. His lips curl into that slow, knowing smirk again.
And he asks, first thing, “Where is he?”
Not "What happened?" and not "How long has it been?" and not even "Did you miss me?"- because of course you did, and of course he knows you did. But that's not what really matters. What matters is the third piece of your puzzle. The missing part of your hearts.
Sun Wukong, radiant star and light of your life.
It takes time to get back to him. Macaque has to regain his strength. You hardly have to remind him of all your many plans, to retrace old schemes, rekindle the flames of love, sharpen the edges of your devotion. All you have to do is play nurse, and dream of a happier life when the king is back in your hands. And when you do- oh, when you do- it’s almost laughable how easy the tracking is.
Wukong is right where you imagined he would be, on his mountain with all his little monkeys.
And a student.
A student.
Macaque laughs at first, a low, rasping thing, dark and rich and so very cruel. He leans into you, his tail winding around your waist, his hand finding yours and squeezing. "He thinks he can just play house? Like none of it ever happened? Like he doesn’t belong to us?”
Your heart pounds, your fingers twitch and then curl around the nearest limb, settling deep into black fur. Tamed. The word sours on your tongue, because—no. No, Wukong is not some house pet to be caged by the mundanity of mortal life. He is a king. A warrior. A god.
Your nails bite into his arm and Macaque hums in bitter approval at the raw hatred in your gesture.
You watch Wukong from the shadows, from just beyond the veil of his peace, unseen but ever-present, and every soft moment he shares with that boy, every little laugh and casual touch, makes something ugly and feral curl in your stomach.
He should be yours.
And yet, the king sits there as if he belongs to this- to this false little family, to this child and the friends he dares to call his.
Macaque clicks his tongue. “I bet he hasn’t even thought about us,” he muses, voice lilting, teasing, but you can hear the barely masked venom beneath it. “I bet he hasn’t even dreamed about us.” He leans in closer, the warmth of his fur seeping into your side, breath hot against your skin as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
Your breath shudders, hot and heavy and hateful. You do know.
He needs to be reminded.
He needs to remember.
And if that means tearing him away from this little fantasy, from this fragile, laughable life he’s tried to build- then so be it.
You have a king to collar.
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pa-pa-patato · 3 days ago
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Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and Bendy was unhappy.
He didn’t hate the holiday quite the contrary he loved it, Usually, he’d mostly spend it by fake whining to his brother for not having a date despite the fact he didn’t ask anyone and Boris would let him put on a show for a few minutes or more depending on his mood, and he would then be offered to spend the day together like that wasn’t the plan all along and they’d have a fun day out. To be honest they liked the day after Valentine’s Day more cause all the sweets would be 50% off.
Unfortunately, he won’t be spending the day with his brother, Felix came to them yesterday asking if they’d like to come with him to spend the day in the circus cause they are doing something special and Boris immediately agreed of course but for the past few days, Bendy for the life of him couldn’t handle loud noises so he had to decline and made sure they both knew he was fine spending the day by himself.
Felix probably let it go easily cause Alice was back yay And assumed he’d ask her on a date.
And it’s not like he didn’t want to spend the day with her well he kinda didn’t. But he knew she wasn’t interested in that so that was that.
For the first time since he remembers he’s gonna spend the day alone.
“Hey bends you doing anything tomorrow?” Holly’s cheerful voice snapped him back, “Huh-oh no, I’m not why?” The smile she gave him was blinding “Wanna spend the day with me?”
“…what?” His face must have looked funny cause Holly tried to cover his laughter as she spoke “As friends silly, don’t worry this isn’t some out-the-blue love confession” he immediately sighed in relief, Holly is one the best people he ever met but he really didn’t want anything romantic happening between them, she understood him cause the hit that landed his shoulder had no real anger behind it.
Guess he isn’t spending the day alone after all.
The next morning he actually woke up pretty early even before the Cupbros, Bendy got up waved at Mugs to signal everything was okay and that he could go back to sleep and went down to help Granny with breakfast.
As they cooked more and more people came downstairs to either help or just relax a bit before it was finished and when it was they all came to the table talking with one another.
A little after breakfast people began going out having plans of their own pretty much the only people left in the house were Dr. Oddswell, Cuphead, Alice and Bendy.
Alice kept looking at him kinda nervously while Cup was watching the TV “Umm- Bendy?-” Suddenly the door opened revealing Holly. She was wearing a simple white dress with little flower patterns and a white cardigan, she looked stunning so stunning he didn’t notice Cup sharply sucking in breath while Alice showed annoyance for a quick second before changing her expression back to natural.
“Why hello there beautiful” Bendy flirted, just because they’re friends doesn’t mean he can’t compliment the girl “Hello yourself handsome” Holly giggled playfully rolling her eyes.
Both completely missed the glares their best friends gave them.
“What’s going on here?” Alice gritted through her teeth, “Oh I convinced this guy spend Valentine’s Day with me!” Holly replied happily as Bendy pulled something out of his pocket “For you m’lady” he pressed the little box in her hand.
Holly gasped as she opened the Box to reveal a sunflower hair clip “It’s gorgeous!” Bendy purred at the praise he was glad he found it while shopping with Felix, it looked like something she’d like and he was right!
Holly giggled as she put her hair up and added the hair clip, “Ready to go?” She asked both already feeling excited.
Bendy nodded and got up they waved goodbye to Alice and Cup and left, as they walked Holly explained how she made a reservation in a restaurant nearby, some time later they ended up holding hands and neither of them stopped once they realized it.
They spend their whole time there listening to the couple next to them who were fighting their jaws dropped when the wife revealed that she knew about her husband’s affair and had slept with not only his brother but his father too, when they finally got asked to leave everyone in the restaurant starting talking to each other about the couple and they ended up having a blast talking with everyone there.
They decided to go to the beach afterward and it was nice talking to Holly, guess it’s given since she never tried killing him or hated him for being a demon…. It was very nice on the beach!
Bendy shared how he can’t wait to snag cheep sweets tomorrow and Holly immediately offered to join, Before he could agree he spotted Alice and Cup in the distance.
He waved at them without a second thought making Holly realize their presence, and they saw both of them suddenly go under a wall “…Did they fall?” Bendy asked nervously “I-I think they did” Holly answered as equally nervous as him.
After a short moment, they both got back up and waved back at them like nothing happened. They decided to just ignore them and continue with their walk.
They finished the ‘date’ by staying out late watching the stars in silence.
Bendy walked her home both giggling the whole way back, as Holly unlocked her Door he joked
“What? I don’t get a kiss goodbye?” Holly rolled her eyes as she bent down and kissed him. On the lips. Both stayed in silence for moments before she broke it “Oh I-I meant to kiss you on the cheek”. And with that, they burst out laughing making Ebi come out to yell at them for making a ruckus.
He waved the girls goodbye and went off.
Once Bendy got back to the house he ran into Cup, The man didn’t seem particularly happy and he didn’t wanna ruin the good mood everyone had so he just smiled and went around him not saying a word.
Felix and Boris were already back and they brought the Micky crew with them, Felix waved at him while his brother immediately went to him to hug him as he excitedly talked about all that happened.
Red called them out for dinner making Bendy almost run into Alice who was suddenly beside him “Whoops sorry” Alice only nodded walking beside him to the dining room.
Everyone was talking about how the day went for them happy smiles filling the room, well except for Cuphead who looked annoyed and he was pretty sure Alice was fake smiling. “How was your day Bendy?” Felix’s voice stood out from everyone making Bendy turn already smiling “It was great! I had a lovely time with Holly-” Boris immediately gasped at him his hand on his chest, Felix looked a bit nervous and confused but Bendy was already playfully rolling his eyes at his brother.
“I can not believe it! You guys are dating!?” He yelled out making everyone look at them “We aren’t dating we went out as friends” He clarified trying not to laugh as his brother fake whined trying to look hurt “I can’t believe it! I should have known when you declined to hang out with us today! I always knew you’d replace me with a cute girl but I didn’t think it’d be like this!” Boris continued face whining and everyone around caught on that this was just a bit.
“Oh yeah she’ll join us tomorrow when we go out to the store for sweets” Boris let out another cry of betrayal making everyone laugh.
Everyone except Alice and Cuphead.
After that day things were different Bendy and Holly were much more friendly around each other, not like they weren’t friends before but now it’s like they’ve known each other for years.
Bendy also noticed he didn’t mind Holly’s touch unlike everyone else, And she decided to take full advantage of that fact.
Every time the two were in the same room they had some sort of physical contact with each other, whether it was hand-holding or one of their hands ending up around their waist, thighs and shoulders, they were always touching each other In some way.
No one minded this new thing of theirs, At least they thought they didn’t.
Cuphead and Alice began separating them, they didn’t just go over to them and forcefully separate them of course. They just call them over to help them or casually pull them apart, they didn’t even notice it was what they were doing until Cala pointed it out to them.
They aren’t angry, annoyed yes but not angry.
To be completely honest.. he and Holly turned it into a game.
They started being practically all over each other to see how the two would react. It was funny to see their reactions but they didn’t get why they were acting like this.
But it didn’t matter. Not now at least
Holly and Bendy had their fun while Cuphead and Alice continued without having to explain why they were doing it in the first place
Win-win.
Credits to @alexmae79 for the prompt :3
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cerenemuxse · 2 days ago
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so i finally filled up my sketchbook that i started back in may of 2022 💥
since most of the doodles were TTTE related, i thought i'd share mine, starting from the very first one from july of 2022. it was the summer before my senior year of high school when i got into ttte. however, i didn't join the fandom until months later, around november. i say around because my first ttte post i deleted (it was a 2d model sheet i drew up of Edward but someone reblogged it so its definitely out there somewhere lul)
now, about 2.5 years later, im still in the fandom, enjoying ttte. i've met some amazing artists and writers, and while i dont speak as often with you as i would like, do know that im glad ive met every single one of you. i haven't had such a positive experience since my Sonic days and (somewhat left the fandom) Hermitcraft days, let alone a fixation stick around for so long like my Sonic fixation (2013 - 2020). we'll see how long ttte sticks as my fixation for but i have a feeling it will be for a long time, considering the people i've found myself with.
so as a bit of a commemoration and for the sake of seeing improvement, i'm sharing some sketches of the engines i've drawn over the years from that sketchbook, from the very first sketch to last page i just finished. :)
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personal art notes below. feel free to skip! these are just observations of mine that i made from looking at these!
what was consistent: the recognizable art style. you can still tell that its my artwork, and i think it comes down to the eyes, depite the style of those changing the most.
i've gotten better at faces, especially different designs, but i still need to keep them consistent.
i still suck at perspective. this is why we use reference images.
say if i had joined the fandom just now, and this is my first post. i think you'd assume that edward is clearly the favorite lul.
there's some spoilers so i wont be commenting on anything about the designs, save for a few!
for images 7 and 8, i used highlighters and a red pen for coloring :D
i did rebecca early on and i hate that it happened. also the notes for her aren't relevant anymore! They're now based on 34102 Lapford.
character design notes:
image 6: Lexi is the LSWR T7 class. Theodore is the LSWR F9. For anyone curious, Merlin stays the same. Im not sure if I ever changed the specific engine he is. I remember talking about it but i can't find any info anywhere ;-;
image 7: Whiff is a GWR 3571 class. (not visual) Stanley was built by NWR in Crovan's Gate.
image 8: (not visual but affects his accent) Based on his number, Ryan was built in Scotland by the North British Company.
image 9: Rebecca is the rebuilt version of SR West Country class. Belle is a GWR 6100 (as originally planned for the TVS). Hank is a USATC S160.
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cryptablog · 7 months ago
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If people just spoke instead of assuming and made that normal no one would ever have to assume ever again and Nobody would be unjustly angry or disapointed.
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dramas-vs-novels · 8 months ago
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I almost think you should tell them that you can't do it without EVEN THE LOGO??? Like, that's the craziest part for me!!! How do you not send even your logo!!!!!
Oh MENTALLY that's what I keep growling, but I never actually say that I cannot do something. Everything is figure-out-able. The issue is time, and in cases like this frankly quality.
Like, I can scalpel promotional videos from their website, but only being able to screen record it, the quality will be less than HD. It'll be pixelated from the size-up.
And having to rebuild their logo in Photoshop so I have an HD edition... How long that'll take depends on if I can find a lookalike font, or if I have to reverse engineer their font.
And if they come back with "The video is grainy" or "the logo doesn't match", I will just very gently respond "Do you have an original file available that I can use to improve the video quality?"
I hate being forced to put out sub-standard work. I am a perfectionist. I literally go through every individual frame before sending a proof and will digitally alter shit to make it look as perfect as possible.
See, the AdExs at work think I'm the most patient person in the world with clients, but in reality I know THEY will roast them as idiots in the private Teams chat. I never chime in, because if that chat leaks- and our cybersecurity is a joke so like, it's more WHEN it leaks- I have said and done nothing wrong.
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liquidstar · 2 years ago
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I'm working on my next oc set rn (as always) and this one is going to be the first, like, trinary guild to have more than 8 characters on account of twins sharing a spot lol
#they're actually replacing a different character i felt didn't really work well lol#my concern so far is to not design every single character to have a blue color scheme since they're naval themed#I'll have to like work around it for some. some blue as highlights maybe#shades of green or ourple#at least one character will have a red and orange color scheme and I don't want them to stand out too much also#I'll figure it out lol#anyway the secondary guilds have 10 characters. and the knights have 14. obvs the main one has the most at 31#i feel like you can assume theres more members of those guilds beyond what i show. theyre just not all as relevant lol#bc having 30+ for a side side guild would be sort of pointless and detract more than add#but a lot of them are big guilds so. i think you can assume theres more than 8 that just happen to pop up around the main characters lol#also anyone who wants to play with ocs like dolls could make their own characters for those side guilds and it will not mess w the story#even come up w relationships to other characters and say we just dont see them for the same reasons. not relevant to the main bunch#bc even tho i have a lot of fun w the more gimmicky side characters focusing on them too much would take away from the main guys#thats part of why they have to be gimmicky to stand out too. not as much focus to give them like detailed backstories and hypothetical arcs#so you get the gist of them based on what their Thing is and they can stand out w that#like i dont want them to be too intrusive. but i want them to have character!#not just bland extras and all. if they were i wouldnt keep drawing these sets for them#i have too much fun designing them to do that!#anyway after this current set (cobalt heart) ill only have 2 left#and one of them is actually on the smaller side! the timber scouts only have 5 characters#w similar outfits so they shouldnt take as long i think? also 4 of them are children#then is tartarus which will probably take longer but im really stoked for them#especially pluto. and deimos and phobos and juliet (dumbass duo and their fucking babysitter)#i also have some solo characters i wanna do too#i for sure have to do the royals . and some historical characters maybe#but i want atlas to be the last one i draw. my insane guy who tried to claw his own eyes out because he saw it#i wonder what the next phase will be after i finish everyone tho
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4thbrighteststar · 6 months ago
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I wish I could listen to in between gracie abrams but it makes me genuinely actually sick to my stomach nauseous
#GET ME OOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT#vomit tw#team screams#guys i am so fucking sick of this#tell me how I spent the whole entire fucking day with my friends. 9 AM to 7 PM. 10 HOURS.#and I somehow feel more lonely than I did in the last TEN DAYS WHEN I DIDN'T SEE THEM#fucking. heads pushed together twirling each other’s hair nobody else in the room but god forbid anyone assume there's something there#and then turn around and flirt with me too. for funsies. bc why fucking not#SOMEONE DEADASS ASKED IF WE WERE IN A THROUPLE#A THROOOUUUUPPPLLEEEEEEEEEEEE#how did i FUCKIGJGJGNGGN GET HERE. HOOOOWWWWWWWW#im gonna start BITTITIIIJNGNGNGGHH#i dont fucking CARE i would rather be excluded!! i would rather you fucking made plans in front of me and then left me out to my FACE#instead of dragging my sorry ass with you Everywhere for some fuckass reason and then acting like im not even there#AND THEN WHEN I LEAVE. BC Y'ALL DON'T EVEN NOTICE. CHASE ME BACK AND SAY NOOO WHY'D YOU GO#bc im FUCKING TIRED BITCH#genuinely i hear 'I just can't come between them...they got their own thing' and i immediately get a stomachache and want to throw up#i wish. y'all fucking liked me. but more than that. I think I wish I didn't like you#bc why do i even CARE. i know better. i literally know better!! i have so many other friends I could be doing this with#and i LIKE hanging out with y'all but what fucking good does that do me when u guys don't even care if I'm there#and you don't have the GUTS TO TELL MEEEEEEEEEEHYSHSHSBFNFNFNFJ#and every time I hang out with them individually or we're all Actually hanging out as a group I have fun. we all do!#i fucking HATE third wheeling#im so dead serious take me out im not having fun. stop it. fucking stop it#but I can't say any OF THIS BC THEYRE BOTH REPRESSING IT TO HELL AND BACK. BUT THEY'RE NOT. SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING HERE#ok im done. well no im still angry but i got so upset i tired myself out. so good night
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eggmeralda · 8 months ago
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spent an hour making a list related to That Fandom, followed by an hour listening to the haunting vibe playlist, followed by an hour reading the fanfic we wrote about my band and crying actual tears bc it's the peak of comedy, followed by an hour thinking about all the things I've ever created that will never be seen by anyone either bc I don't know how to show them to people or bc people just think they're bad but either way I'll never know the true answer, and now it's 10.30pm and I've basically experienced the full spectrum of emotions: autism, existential crisis, silly, and the feeling of being unseen
#the list btw was working out which south park character canonically gets the most bitches. kyle btw#but yeah the 4th hour was typical after experiencing the adrenaline rush laugh attack high of the 3rd hour#(with an air of bittersweet nostalgia for the joys of 2nd year uni)#and the 4th hour was just thoughts of like. do you ever make the best thing you've ever made and then you don't know what to do with it#even if the thing itself isn't objectively Good. but it's still the best thing in comparison to everything else you've made#and for me it's the messily written script for that film i wrote#and the album I'd been recording since 2020 and finally finished at the start of this year#and like. both of them i spent so much time on and both were for my own enjoyment#like the process of making them is fun#but then once they're finished what do you do? do you show other people? or do you just keep it to yourself#keeping it to yourself is the safer option bc you don't know what anyone's opinion of it is#the only thing is that it feels trapped inside i guess? like you've just got it to yourself for no reason#at least put it somewhere. post it online or print/record it in physical form. so you have some way of proving it ever existed#but then if you do post it online there's only four options:#1. no one sees it bc they don't know it's there (neutral)#2. people see it and enjoy it and they tell you (good)#3. people see it and hate it and they tell you (bad)#4. people possibly see it but whether or not they engage with it you'll never know and no one says anything about it (????? worst option)#and you don't wanna be obnoxious about it by reposting it all the time so you just assume either people don't like it or just don't care#and then leave it#and it's not even anyone's fault it's just you have no idea where you stand with anything#and then that leads back to the question of why would you make something in the first place if all you're gonna do is finish it#if the process is enjoyable then just make small versions of it so the finish doesn't feel as wasted#more emphasis on the making experience. which is the fun part#idek what i'm talking about. does anyone get this#i'm not saying no one should ever make big things bc it's pointless or anything#but also what is the point in finishing something massive if it's just gonna be left collecting dust in your mind. and possibly storage#if it always feels like this i'm just gonna never finish anything ever again. and then everything will stay fun forever <3#ramble
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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago
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🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️
Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)
Male!Drider x Fem!Reader
Oct2
warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise
summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.
A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…
my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~
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If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.
But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.
First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.
You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.
Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.
Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.
That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.
Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…
How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?
So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.
You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.
‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’
The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.
“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”
You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”
With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.
As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.
A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.
“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”
When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.
And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!
“Shit!”
You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.
By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.
You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.
“Fuck…”
Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.
You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.
This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.
Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.
It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.
Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…
The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.
‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’
But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.
You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…
Darkness.
——————
When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.
You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.
He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.
“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”
As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.
“Are those… webs..?”
You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.
“Indeed.”
The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.
Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.
‘The legend… is true?’
You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…
“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”
He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”
His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.
“Far from it…”
Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.
“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”
He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”
You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.
Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”
He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.
“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.
Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.
“Gods, you’re so soft…”
He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”
Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.
“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”
He smiled, beginning to push in.
“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”
It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.
“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”
And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.
He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”
Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…
He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…
He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.
“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”
As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.
So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?
You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.
“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”
The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.
So you decided to stay… at least for now…
Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~
————————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months ago
Text
I’ll Cry If I Want To
Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud
Masterlist
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Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.
“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.
“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”
“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.
“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.
“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.
“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.
“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”
“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.
“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”
“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.
“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.
“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.
“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.
“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”
“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.
“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.
“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”
“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”
“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”
“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.
“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.
“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”
“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.
“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.
“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.
“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.
“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.
“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.
“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.
“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.
“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.
“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”
“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.
“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.
“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.
“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.
“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.
Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.
“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.
“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.
“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.
“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.
“Seriously though, when are they coming?”
“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.
“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.
“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.
“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.
“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.
“They cancelled? Why?”
“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.
“I’m sorry.” He said instead.
“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.
“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”
“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”
“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.
“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.
“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”
You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.
“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.
After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.
“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”
“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.
“And?” You asked.
“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.
“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.
“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.
“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”
“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.
“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.
“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.
“No.”
“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.
“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.
“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.
“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”
“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.
“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.
“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.
“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.
“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.
“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.
“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.
“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.
“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.
“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.
“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.
“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.
“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.
“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“
“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.
“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.
“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.
“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”
“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”
“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.
“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”
“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.
“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.
“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”
“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”
“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.
“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked.
“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.
“Okay. Go ahead.”
“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.
“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”
“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”
“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.
“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.
“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.
“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”
“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.
“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”
“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”
“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.
“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”
“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.
“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.
“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.
“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.
“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.
“No. I don’t. I never did.”
“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.
“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.
“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.
“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.
“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.
“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.
“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.
“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”
Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.
“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.
“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.
“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.
“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.
“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“
“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.
You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.
When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.
“What the hell is this?” You asked him.
“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.
“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”
“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”
“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.
“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.
“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.
“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.
“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.
“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.
“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.
“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.
“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.
“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.
“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.
“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”
“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”
“Then what?” He wondered.
“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”
“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.
“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”
“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.
“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.
“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.
“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”
“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.
“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”
“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.
“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”
“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”
Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.
“It was you.”
“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.
“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”
“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.
“I don’t know. It’s late.”
“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.
“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.
“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.
“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.
“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.
“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“
“No.” You cut him off.
“Worth a try.” He mumbled.
“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”
“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”
“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.
“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.
“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”
“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”
“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”
“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.
“What?” You laughed shyly.
“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”
“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”
“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”
“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.
“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.
“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.
“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.
“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.
“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.
“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah?”
“Clear the countertop.”
Tag List 🏷️
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muzansfangs · 7 months ago
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You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.
Starring: Choso Kamo x f!reader; Kento Nanami x f!reader; Higuruma Hiromi x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, dirty innuendos, fluff, jealousy, established relationships, nipple play, spanking, playfully biting the partner arses, oral sex (reader!receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, creampie, face sitting, unprotected sex;
Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Choso Kamo.
Choso’s lips glided down your neck, nipping, sucking onto the flesh with the same care a potter would handle his fragile new creation. This man was genuinely head over heels for you. Ever since his little brother had introduced you two, Choso had found a new reason to live and, supposedly, be a better person. He had learned so much about human interactions, about feelings and even about intimacy. While he was not properly addicted to sex, this man loved being inside of you more than anything. He needed to touch your soft skin, he needed your warmth around him. That evening was not that different from an ordinary one.
His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling them, thumb and index rolling your handened nipples to elicit from your throat the soft moans he loved to hear from you so much. You did not fail his expectations. You cried out, head lolling back against his shoulder in ecstasy.
“Sing for me, babe” Choso mumbled, your insides clenching around his shaft deliciously as he slowly bucked his hips up to stimulate you.
The squelching sounds filling the room were making your head spin, eyes fluttering to enjoy the sensations to its fullest. You hated pissing him off, you really did, but above anything else you loathed causing his heart to ache. Still, that trend was too tempting not to try it on your sweet boyfriend.
You hummed, sinking down further onto his cock to meet his lazy thrusts “Louder? I don’t want the neighbours to complain again, Choso” you replied breathless, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek. Your hand reached towards his left hand, giving it a squeeze, before guiding it down towards your pubes.
Choso groaned, fingers grazing the smooth skin in delight, while he reached down to flick your throbbing clitoris dilegently “They can burn in Hell, baby. — he promptly said, smiling against your neck — All I care about it you and this sweet pussy of yours. Gosh, I can’t wait to taste your orgasm later” he praised you, causing you to shriek for a deeper thrust of his hips.
“Yeah? Is it that sweet, babe? I got to tell Akio then. I couldn’t describe its flavour to him today” you blurted out, only for Choso’s smile to disappear.
Choso.exe stopped working.
His movements halted, his eyes darkening as he grasped your chin to turn your head in his direction. Lying to his face was going to be hard, especially since he had put up such a puppy face that your heart ached in your chest.
“Akio? Who’s Akio?” Choso asked you, his voice low and a tad serious.
“The guy who waxed me today. Did I forget to mention him to you?”.
“Akio is a guy, isn’t he?”.
You giggled, booping his nose affectionately “Sure he is, silly. What’s with that?”.
Choso huffed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he embraced your tighter “A guy… Did you let another boy look at your pussy? Babe, why? Tell me that’s not true! You would never let anyone touch your—” he wept and you could swear tears brimmed in his eyes. Oh no, that was enough. You could not keep it up anymore.
You sighed, shaking your head vigorously “No! It’s a joke, Choso, please! I’ve been an idiot! Forgive me, baby! Look at me” you interrupted him, pressing your forehead against his one.
Choso relaxed, his breath still kind of irregular as he palmed his forehead in distress. You had really scared him. He could not still bear with jealousy. Apparently, he was not the type to go mad. Choso was too kind-hearted for that. Dealing with feelings was still hard for him. His lips captured yours, gently, holding you close as he relished the feeling of being in your arms.
“Don’t do it again” he whispered and you nodded your head in agreement. Poor Choso, struggling with jealousy.
Higuruma Hiromi.
This man was born to give you oral. Underneath you, head squeezed by the fat of your thighs, your dripping core bare for him to lavish with his tongue and your clitoris for his nose to stroke, Hiromi could happily die. The sweet sounds you made, the way you rolled your hips for facilitate the way he lapped at your folds with flat of his tongue were such a delicacy. If he was asked about a good way to die, the stressed out lawyer would have decidedly declared you his designated executioner and welcomed your pussy as his deathbed.
Now, sitting on his face, hands scrambling up to hold onto the metal bars of the bedhead, you whimpered out his name in bliss. The pleasure was so intense your obnubilated mind was neglecting the plan, your thirst for him not quenching in the slightest when you felt the tip of his tongue slip in between your smooth, slippery folds.
“H-Hiromi! Gosh, don’t stop” you drawled out, back arching as his hands, sprawled over your arses, squeezed onto the rounded globes in unbridled possessiviness.
He had no intention to stop, not even as his chin and nose were coated onto a glistening mixture of your juices and his own saliva. This was not a simple way to cherish your moments with him, this was downright his favorite addiction. Hiromi did not really care if you skipped your appointment with the beautician. He frankly appreciated how much care of your body you had, but he had never asked you to get a wax. Never. Still, when you did, he could not deny how much he loved the way his tongue smoothly skimmen over your silky folds.
“Ride my nose harder, baby” he rasped, his cock twitching in his pants as you shifted upwards, following his command eagerly.
You inhaled sharply, eyes downcast to peer down at your husband’s face barely visible from underneath your thighs. The timing was perfect. Eyes screwed shut, Hiromi was gradually guiding your hips back and forth to help you rub your swollen clitoris over his prominent nose. Waves of electricity ran through your veins, as you let out a pathetic whine. Now, or never, you had to drop the bomb before it was too late.
“I don’t think there’s a single hair left, right?” you breathed out, Hirmoni’s teeth nipping gently at your labia with a huff.
“Not even a single one… — your husband rumbled out — Not that I’d mind anyway” he whispered, mouth opening to leave wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. You two were making a mess.
You shivered, biting down onto your lower lip to concentrate better before shattering that poor man’s world with a single sentence “Yeah, I know, Hiroshi did such an amazing job”.
Hiromi’s assualt on your heat ended instantly. Hooded eyes opening, a knot creasing his forehead, he glanced up at you inquisitively “You meant Hiroko, not Hiroshi. I sincerely hope so”.
“No, I meant Hiroshi. — you countered back, breath still uneven as you wiped away the sweat beading your forehead with the back of your hand — Hiroko got down with a cold, he’s in charge of the beauty center now. I probably forgot to fill you up with the news” you replied, trying to sound convincing as Hiromi just stared blankly up at you.
Maybe it was just your impression, but the atmosphere around you, once charged with sexual tension, grew gloomy, almost chilling. His finger slipping into your core all of sudden made you choke out a screech of surprise, pleasure and discomfort engulfing your lower abdomen as you gawked down at him.
“Don’t talk. Not a single word unless I demand you to speak” Hiromi flatly said, curling his finger into you unforgivingly slowly.
You gaped in shock, legs almost giving up as he shoved another finger into your sappy hole, his eyes darkening as he assessed your reaction. He could not believe you had waited up until that very moment to tell him such a thing! You, his muse, his reason to wake up in the morning, you had let another man touch his nest.
“Did this man touch my home? Did you let him graze his fingers over your pubes, down to your labia, spreading them for him to enjoy the view?” he interrogated you, his tone sharp and cold, taking the same edge it did when he was in a courtroom. This was a problem. You knew you had to stop that circus.
You cried out, lips parted, as you shook your head “H-Hiro! It was a joke! It was a joke, I swear!” you fretted, watching with glee as his expression relaxed and he slided his fingers out of you.
You did not register how he slipped out from between your thighs, pushing your face down onto the pillow as he bit down onto your arse. All you knew was that, when he finally was deep inside of you, his mouth neared your ear and he got back at you from your silly staunt “Let me fill you up with something better than a fib, hm?”.
Nanami Kento.
Large and calloused hands gripping your hipbones, cock stretching you out deliciously, you did your best not to reach your climax right away. Kento Nanami, the best partner you could have ever asked for, was taking his sweet time with you. His hips smacked against yours in a firm, steady pace, as you almost drooled over the polished wooden surface of the desk.
Sex after he came back from his small work trips was the best. Passionate, intense, the lust blinding you two all of a sudden. This time, it had washed over you, when he had seen you saunter towards him all dolled up for a dinner out. A dinner he had promised you before leaving and a dinner you were probably going to be late for.
“I missed you. Wholeheartedly. Waking up alone sucks” Kento stated, burying himself into you to the hilt.
You moaned out, nails scraping the wood as you pushed back against him, squeezing him up perfectly to enjoy the way his girth made itself space within your walls. You were absolutely in a frenzy, your make-up ruined, as you rested your cheek against the desk.
“I missed you too, oh so much” you replied, breath uneven as he leaned down to plant a kiss onto your nape, thrusting slowly into you, making love instead of fucking. This felt just perfect, so perfect that, if it was not for him speaking up, you would have forgotten completely about the devious plan you had in mind.
“You even waxed for me, huh?” he whispered, causing you to tighten up around him again and for your husband to grunt in pleasure.
“You shall t-thank Noboru for the last minute appointment he agreed on” you blurted out, Kento’s eyes widening at your words. A shot through the heart would have felt less painful.
A man had seen his wife’s pussy? Oh, that was impossible. He was probably too tired and had misheard your words. The Hell with that, he was never tired when he was with you. Kento Nanami had heard you correctly. He cleared his throat, hips still, whilst he gazed down at you.
“Noboru?”.
You swallowed forcefully, glancing at him from above your shoulder “Yeah?”.
“Are you perhaps implying you lied down on a couch, legs wide open, to let Noboru touch your pussy?” he inquired, voice calm and collected, even if his grip on your hips was getting bruising.
You nodded your head “And what if I did?”.
“Then I will accompany you the next time you want to get waxed. — Kento replied, giving you a warning thrust that made your breath hitch in your thraot — You know, I would not want our dear Noboru to just imagine the filthy sounds your pussy makes, when I fuck it. Let’s give him a show, darling. What do you say? Would he like to watch me fuck you?” he asked you, resuming his relentless pace.
His hand landing harshly onto your rear caused you to whimper out, sweat beading your forehead, as you regretted your choice to tease your beloved husband. His silent, latent jealousy was turning out to he too hot to handle. He caught a glimpse of you trying to open up your mouth to admit it was all a lie, but he shushed you with another spank.
“Hush, sweetheart. — he cooed, your whines a melody he would have never get tired of — I know you were joking. But we both were serious about trying to have a kid, right? Let’s start tonight. Fuck the dinner, I’ll cook for you later” he rasped out, increasing the pace of his thrusts.
Oh, dear, your wobbly legs and the hot seed dribbling down the inside of your thighs were the signs the only two men allowed to see you naked were your husband and your gynecologist.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! I always feel so giddy when I write for JJK. Hopefully, you’re going to enjoy this piece. I don’t think you guys will get a part two soon, but I do not close the door to that possibility.
Anyway, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @axesfordays @areyouflying
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pellucid-constellations · 3 months ago
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Fable - After
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Your wings were gone. The healing process would teach you much about yourself, but it would teach Azriel, too. Does it matter, in the end?
Word count: 7k
Warnings: Angst, injury, symptoms of depression (including difficulty eating)
a/n: This is part of a mini-series and the other parts can be found in the link below. Sorry this is literally so long lol. Debating on adding another chapter to the end because I obviously have a lot to say! Also, I won't be posting an update for about a week because I'll be traveling, so I hope this long chapter holds you over. Thank you :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
You woke as the sun did. Yellow light made an imprint behind your eyelids and the grogginess that immediately followed let you know that this was not the first time you had been awake. Sleeping through the night had become a luxury not afforded to you. 
You clenched the pillow at your cheek between your fingers and tried to pull at the loose threads of sleep that were escaping you. 
Someone was in your room. 
Someone was always in your room these days, but this morning, you knew it was Azriel. You could feel the whisps of his shadows making barely-there strokes along your back, and his scent was unmistakable. If it was Azriel today, they didn’t expect you to talk. When they wanted you to try and speak, they sent Cassian or Mor or even Feyre on the odd occasion. 
They didn’t expect you to talk when it was Azriel. 
You supposed everyone thought you were mad at him. Truthfully, part of you was mad at him. If he had just opened his eyes once over the last hundreds of years, he would have seen that you were right there—that you were more than a responsibility for him to look after. That you were a woman in love with him and he was a fool for taking so long to notice. 
But another part of you felt that you couldn’t blame him. Azriel had never had much luck in the romance department, and you’d always chalked that up to self-sabotage. He seemed to go after women he knew he couldn’t have and only assumed late-night trysts with those he could, so you couldn’t expect much out of him. And how was he to know that you pined after him? It wasn’t as if you’d ever made any kind of move. 
But Elain had so enamored him and you were so angry at that part. Because you had been there and he had never taken the leaps and bounds he had with her. 
He had left you in that camp, so ready to believe your lie to appease her. 
You were the biggest fool of all. 
In actuality, neither of those parts mattered. There wasn’t some internal strife that fought against your sleep and made you question your feelings. You weren’t mad at Azriel. You weren’t mad at anyone or anything. You felt empty. 
You gave up on sleep, breathing heavily through your nose and squinting your eyes into the sun that peaked through your curtains. Your back ached, and even more, the insurmountable pressure on your chest was amplified by the bandages that wrapped around from behind you. They made it difficult to breathe. 
No infection had set in. It had been two and a half weeks since the incident, and Madja cleared you to begin moving around a few days ago and noted that you were “out of the woods, medically.” Everyone looked relieved as if that news had changed anything. To them, you supposed it did. You would live. That was good. 
Azriel knew you were awake, you were sure of it. You heard his chair groan as if he were leaning forward in it, and his shadows had begun to traipse around your head, weaving in and out of your hair and blocking the light from your eyes. 
He would try to get you to eat, look at you with those pitying eyes, and apologize when you could barely sit up and hold out a plate as if you were going to eat it. You hadn’t met his gaze since you woke up and there was more than just resentment behind that. There was shame—you were so ashamed of what you had become. What you had let happen. 
Maybe that was another reason why you felt so empty. How could Azriel even look at you as anything other than broken? When you were whole—when you had your wings—there was an irrational part of you that considered you had a chance with the Shadowsinger if he would just see you. 
There was nothing to see now. 
“Are you awake?” Azriel asked, keeping his voice low in the quiet room. You nodded against the pillow, face still turned from his view. The chair groaned once again. “Are you hungry?” 
No head shake. It was a frequent question that you hated being asked. 
Azriel’s footsteps were soft against your carpet. He kneeled beside your bed and attempted to catch your fleeting gaze, but you found a spot on the floor and kept it there. 
“Can you try?” he prompted. His textured fingers brushed the hair from your eyes. “Not even at the table. I’ll have the House bring you something here.” 
You pressed your lips together and fought off the burning in your nose. 
“Please, y/n.  I know you’re angry with me—I know. But please, just try to eat something.” 
Angry at him—anger wasn’t even in your repertoire at the moment. But he sounded so desperate, as did every other member of your family, and you didn’t want the let them down more than you already had. You shut your eyes and nodded, resigned. 
You built up the strength to prop yourself up on your arms, but that’s where you stopped. Your center of gravity had been completely ripped from you. Anytime you moved without your wings, it felt like free-falling from a mountain. Madja had offered—several times since physically clearing you—to come and get you back on your feet, but the motivation wasn’t there. 
You couldn’t imagine walking without the weight at your back. 
And you had avoided every reflection known to man; seeing yourself would be too much. 
“I have you,” Azriel encouraged, holding you at your waist as he twisted your body up. “Almost. There we go, angel” —he positioned you between pillows that hadn’t been on your bed before— “How’s that? Is it alright?” 
Humiliation felt like a hot knife. You nodded and found a spot on the bed to focus on. You could feel Azriel’s lingering gaze and he hesitated before placing a bowl of broth on a small platter before you. 
“Is that okay?” 
You nodded again, biting the inside of your lip. Your back ached. 
“Do you want me to leave?” 
You nodded. 
Azriel hesitated once more, rocking back on his heels before clearing his throat and letting the door softly shut behind him. The tears came then, and you were so tired of crying. 
~~
Azriel’s POV
Outside of your room, Azriel’s forehead was pressed against the wood of your door. The intricate carvings imprinted his right palm as he kept it pressed there as well, and Azriel had to breathe through his nose to calm himself. 
He was at a loss. 
He didn’t blame you for not speaking to him, but you wouldn’t speak to anyone. You wouldn’t get out of bed unless it was Mor or Feyre lifting you for a bath and you wouldn’t leave your room at all. They had all expected this—planned for a long healing process—but you were so… lifeless. 
Gods, he was helpless. You wouldn’t even look at him. 
Azriel clenched his jaw and tried to listen for the clink of the spoon against the bowl when a hand on his back startled him. Because that was another thing—he’d been off his game since you got hurt, completely useless as a spy. 
“How is she?” Cassian. Cassian was just as worried as Azriel, but Azriel was pretty sure you were looking him in the eye at least. “Get her to talk?” 
“No,” Azriel breathed through a constricting throat. He turned to meet his brother’s face. He was sure Cassian still held some resentment towards him, but he’d apologized for his outburst when you arrived at the House. Apologized, but not entirely forgiven. 
Cassian sighed and rubbed at his jaw. “Is she at least eating?” 
“She agreed to eat. I left her with some soup. She wanted me to leave.” 
“She say that?” 
“I asked and she nodded.” 
Cassian kissed his teeth and curled his wings in tighter. “Have you… talked to her?” 
Azriel had to fight the urge to scoff, throwing his brother an incredulous look. “Obviously I talk to her, Cassian. I don’t stand in her room and motion at things.” 
In response, Cassian did not fight the urge to roll his eyes. “I mean actually talk to her, Azriel. About what happened. You finding her. Her lying and you not being there. I know it was one of the only missions at the camps she’s been at without you there. That means something, no?” 
“I don’t think she wants to talk to me at all—let alone rehash all of that.” 
“Azriel,” Cassian started, stepping forward to place a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Give her a chance to push you away. Let her be the one to do it. If you play into this fear, it might confirm things for her, and you know her mind isn’t in a good place.” 
Azriel winced. “I think you might be better to—” 
“No, Az, you. Let her eat her breakfast, give her an hour or two, and then go back in there and talk to her. I’ve already been talking to her and she won’t say a word to me. I think you’re the only person who’s been too afraid to.” 
Azriel sighed and then leaned his head back until it knocked against your door. In another life, you might’ve called out and asked who was there. But there was only silence. 
Cassian sent Azriel a look with raised brows and patted his brother twice on the shoulder before backing into the hall. He had taken four steps towards the dining room before Azriel called, “What did you mean then, about me being blind?” 
Cassian paused but didn’t turn. Azriel watched his head tilt to the side and a deep sigh escaped him. 
“Shouldn’t have said that,” Cassian muttered. He started walking once more. “Just—think a little more.”
~~
Original POV
Breakfast was fine; you kept it down and that was the goal. 
Following breakfast, you thumbed through the books Nesta had sent to you. The action was lackadaisical and without purpose. You weren’t going to read them. 
You took breaks from staring at the wall to stare out the window instead, but that only sent waves of something heavy through your chest. The skies looked so open today, with only a few clouds and endless rays of sun. Maybe if it were raining, it wouldn’t hurt so much to look out the window. 
You were being left alone far more than usual today. 
Perhaps they had grown tired of being around a stubborn mute who refused to see the bright side of things, the “well, with your injuries it’s a miracle you’re still alive,” talks not entirely working on you. You were sure that was true, but you didn’t particularly care about the marvel it took to put you back together. 
This miracle felt hollow. 
As you were about to shut your eyes and drown the rest of the day in sleep, a small knock and the creak of your door stopped you. You snapped your gaze forward and quickly averted it when you recognized Azriel stepping in, his shadows preceding him and rushing you in circles. 
You expected him to take up his post in the chair beside your bed with a simple greeting—as he had done every visit to your room in the past weeks—so when he stood at the door and spoke, confusion and anxiety filled you. 
“Um, hello,” he began. You watched his hands fumble around each other before he cleared his throat and brought them behind his back. “I realize I haven’t given you a full opportunity to be angry with me. I’ve only offered pleasantries and… well, moved you around. I wanted to speak to you if that’s alright?” 
You fixed your gaze on the wall behind him and twisted your lips to the side in the show of a grimace. 
“You don’t have to say anything back—unless you’d like to. It would just—Can I just sit and talk?” 
You had no idea why he was asking. Everyone else in the House sat in your room and talked your ear off, asking questions they wouldn’t get an answer to and telling you about the happenings in town. Azriel was the only one who stayed silent and, now, was the only one to ask permission to speak. 
Still, you slowly nodded and shifted on the pillows. 
“Does anything hurt?” he began, stepping forward with a hesitant hand reaching towards you. “I could fix—” 
You shook your head. He sat in the chair.
There was a beat of silence—uncomfortable silence, which was odd because Azriel had always been the one you felt most comfortable being quiet around. 
When he spoke, the torture in his voice had you finally whipping around to look at his face, but his gaze was downturned. 
“This is my fault,” he said, strained and cracked as he clasped his hands tightly between his knees. “I know I’ve apologized to you since you woke up, but it’s never really been for that. You have to know how sorry I am, y/n. How much I wish I had just come with you. I always come with you.” 
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I—I don’t understand why you’d lie about Lucien going with you. Or Cassian, for that matter. I thought it was always obvious that I’d do anything for you—that you were more important to me than a date.” 
Something twisted and pulled inside of you. You were getting the devotion you so desired from him, but it was cast behind a layer of something ugly. You were more important than a date—then why did it hurt as he spoke the words to you?
“I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise. I’m sorry that you felt you had to lie for my benefit. But, y/n, I thought you were dead. I walked into that camp and I heard you scream, and I thought—I thought you were dead when I held you in my arms. There was so much blood and—” 
Azriel’s words choked and stopped in the air. He pressed his hands in prayer over his mouth and when he looked up, he caught you in your stare. You sat paralyzed, wide-eyed, as he looked at you directly. 
“Why did you lie?” he asked weakly. “I would have been there. And I’m sorry I believed you so easily, but we’ve always been honest with each other. You’ve always had me.” 
Your chin trembled. You were tired of crying, but the irony of his words hit you with full force and your wings were gone. Your wings were gone and nothing would ever be the same again. 
Your trembling jaw quickly morphed into the too-quick intake of breath that made your shoulders tremble as well. And then you were heaving in ugly sobs that hurt to let go of. You clutched at the blankets beneath you until your knuckles turned white. 
Why did you lie? 
Why did you—
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Azriel hushed. He was on the bed now. You hadn’t heard the chair when he got up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. He held you at your shoulders and pressed your face into his chest. This was the most anyone had touched you. Madja only healed with brief skims of her hands and everyone else moved you with panicked touches.
“Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” 
When you spoke—for the first time as this new person—your throat made the words unintelligible. Everything was scratchy and hoarse from misuse, but Azriel heard it. He gently pushed you back and found your eyes once more, his gaze wide and encouraging. 
You tried again, and again, each time more coherent but also filled with the tears the Shadowsinger continued to wipe from your cheeks. 
“I didn’t mean to lie,” finally ripped from your chest. “I only—only—” You hiccuped and Azriel’s face crumpled. “I just wanted you to be happy.” 
Azriel’s eyes were already glassy, but when your voice finally rang in his ears, the tears fell. He pressed your face into his chest once more. This time, you brought your hands up to clench his shirt between your fingers. And, because you were already vulnerable and because this was the first time in weeks you no longer felt numb, you whispered out, “My wings are gone,” and Azriel held you tighter. 
~~
You woke to speaking, a voice seeming to rattle in your head. You couldn’t remember falling asleep, only knowing it must have been a productive sleep because you did not feel weighed down. Your back throbbed, as it typically did after sleep, but there was no heaviness at your chest and you felt rested. 
Another voice in the room sounded off, and you kept your eyes shut as you tried to piece together the words. 
“—to walk. Important for her health—too much time—” 
The voice rumbling your head then said, “She might not be ready. We shouldn’t push her.” 
“She will never be ready, Azriel.” Rhysand, you deduced, the conversation in the room becoming more clear. “But, as Madja has said, if we don’t try to get her at least out of this room, she’ll be stuck in her head. Just try to get her to the balcony. Start with that.” 
“Rhysand—” 
“Don’t Rhysand me. It’s almost been three weeks. Her back is nearly healed. That’s not what we’re worried about now.” 
“And what are we worried about?” Azriel bit back. You were on his chest. Hands were on your waist.
The room lulled into a tense pause, the echo of Azriel’s near growl punctuating the silence. 
The door opened and closed, someone’s footfall departing. 
“You’ve scared off our healer, Azriel,” Rhysand noted with a mock scold. Azriel let out a small scoff. “We are all worried about her, Az. I know it feels… maybe like it’s you against the world, but it’s not. We need to get her up and moving. Her headspace isn’t good.” 
Azriel shifted you in his arms. “Fine.” 
“And Madja needs to come back in to change her dressings.” 
Your hair was moved behind your ear. “Fine.” 
Rhysand let out a tortured sigh. 
~~
Azriel’s POV 
Azriel was going to try today. 
He said that yesterday, but yesterday, you had let him coerce you into sitting by the window instead of in bed, and you had talked to him the entire time, so he forgot to bring it up. 
A large part of Azriel was afraid of pushing you—afraid that you would close up again and refuse to look at him. But he knew Rhys and Madja and everyone else in this House was right. You needed to start making progress. You needed to be able to live some semblance of a normal life without your wings. 
It was strange to see you without them. The pit in his chest grew each time you moved to accommodate them. You would shift in bed or reach around to reposition the fantom limb and realization would come before the dread. Sometimes that was it for the day, you wouldn’t speak anymore. Azriel would read to you when that happened. 
You had started to talk to the rest of the circle, which Azriel was mostly glad for, but the smallest bout of protectiveness had somehow dug its way into his heart. When he would walk into your room to find you chatting with Cassian or listening to Rhys, Azriel would have to pause at the territorial feeling that temporarily consumed him. He figured it was only because you were still hurt. That would fade. 
When he came in today, you were alone, and Azriel felt relieved. For a moment. 
You were already awake and looked well-rested, which was detrimental to his plan of asking you while you were half asleep. You set your book down to stare up at him, and even the fact that you were reading was not lost on him. 
You were making progress. This was part of progress.
“Good morning, y/n,” Azriel greeted, standing at the foot of your bed. 
The action already made you nervous. You eyed the chair beside you and glanced back at him. “Hi, Az.” 
Azriel’s lash fluttered at the sound of your voice, still so fresh after weeks of silence. You were meeker than you once sounded, unsure and small. 
Azriel took in a breath before asking, “How’s today?”
“Today is good,” you replied, words slow. 
Azriel spied the remaining badges peeking out from the top of your shirt. You needed this. “I think we should walk today.” 
Silence consumed the room. Your lips parted as you stared at him, and Azriel immediately wanted to eat his words. Another beat of silence. And then another. He tried desperately not to shift weight between his feet lest he look antsy or unsure. 
You blinked, twice, and then stared down at your fingers as they rested in your lap. 
“I know it will be difficult,” Azriel tried, speaking low. “But I’ll be here. We don’t have to go far. A few steps, that’s all I’m asking.” 
You pressed your thumbnail into your palm, brows furrowed. You hadn’t smiled, Azriel realized, not since before. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you spoke. 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” Azriel asked, bending down to catch your gaze unsuccessfully. 
You blinked back up at him. “Okay, I’ll try.” And then, in a much lower tone, as Azriel walked to your side, you grumbled, “Not as if I could get any lower than I am now.” 
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” you replied, reaching for his outstretched hands. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 
Azriel decided to revisit that later. He wouldn’t pass up this opening you had provided, even though his heart ached at what you’d insinuated. He held your hands in his own and leaned forward as you shifted yourself to the side, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. 
Already, the disorientation on your face was difficult to stomach. You swayed backward with a pinched expression and your nostrils flared in frustration, but Azriel only held your hands firm and steady. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he comforted, allowing his thumb to brush your knuckle. “Anything hurt?”
You shook your head, your lips pressed in a tight line. Azriel forced himself into your field of vision and nodded, softly counting to three as your eyes darted quickly between both of his. As your legs straightened and Azriel’s hands held you up, you refused to break the connection. Azriel wouldn’t be the one to break it. 
You were shaky on your feet and completely unbalanced, but you were standing, and that was all Azriel could ask for. He gripped your hands tighter as your breathing deepened, the struggle evident on your face. 
“Feel okay?” Azriel asked. 
“No,” you grimaced. “But keep going,” you breathed out. 
“Okay, okay. Start with your right. I won’t let go of you.” 
And you did as he asked, albeit with a small groan and a look up at the ceiling. You abandoned the frustration in favor of staring directly at your feet and white-knuckling the grip on Azriel’s hands as you swayed and brought your right foot forward. The moment you placed it down you wobbled on it and had to right yourself three times, causing one of Azriel’s hands to come around your waist. 
You gritted your teeth but continued with your left foot with some encouragement from Azriel. He stepped back with each step you took forward, his hands glued to your body to correct the mistakes from your core. You made it six steps and Azriel was elated. He let out a small, breathy laugh. 
“You’re incredible,” he deemed. 
And it was so, so small, but the scoff-like laugh you offered was accompanied by a minuscule half-smile, and Azriel was over the moon. You looked up at him, a sarcastic upturn of your eyes lighting them up, and Azriel was struck then. 
Mate. 
Mate. 
It was so obvious, so clear. There was never anything but this. But you. 
You were meant to be his and he yours. Years of this pull to you, and he always thought it to be one of friendship. He’d always loved you, always, but he’d never humored the possibility of anything more. You’d seen him in his teen years. Gods, you’d seen him in his twenties when he was terribly full of himself without the credentials to be so. 
And he’d seen you through the decades of your life as well. 
But everything was so much clearer now. He’d always been protective of you, always been the first to follow you. That was part of why this had been so devastating—he’d let you down, left you alone. For another woman. 
Azriel felt his stomach lurch and then something rotten was left in his mouth. 
His mate—he’d let this happen to his mate. 
And what had he said in the store that day? When you’d asked him what would happen if he’d found his mate?
He’d said it wouldn’t matter, that Elain was bigger than a mating bond. 
Elain.
“Azriel?” Your worried tone snapped him back to the present. To the way your legs shook and your body swayed before him. He quickly scooped you up at your waist and held you close as he walked you back to the bed. 
“That’s enough for today,” he said, tucking you back into the bed. His hands were shaking. “Does anything hurt?”
“Are you okay?” you asked, and when you looked at him with your wide eyes, he was so angry at himself. 
Nothing made sense, but everything did. 
“I’m alright,” he reassured, placing a hand on the top of your head. “We need to take that slow. Your muscles need to be rebuilt along with your balance.” 
He needed to get out of this room. He needed to—
“I promise I’ll be able to do more tomorrow. You’ll… come back tomorrow, right?” 
Something was screaming at him. His shadows. They twisted and struck his ears before coming down to rest gently at your shoulders. 
“Of course I will.” 
~~
Original POV
Azriel did not come back the following day, or the day after that. 
Mor came on the first day, a smile plastered on her concerned face. She held her hands out as Azriel did and got you to walk ten steps before exhaustion made your legs shake. She sat beside your bed and went on and on about some shop in Velaris and you laid back and listened. 
You loved Mor, but it became hard to swallow when she was the one to walk through your door that morning. 
The next day, it was Cassian. 
He grinned and boasted about being the best person on the job, rounding your bed and heaving you up by your hips until you were pressed against his front. Cassian took a different approach to you relearning how to walk, placing your feet on top of his to move as he did. He was joking at first, laughter fresh in his tone, but he got serious as your brow twisted and your body swayed. 
“You got it,” he assured. He stepped back, his hands now just hovering over your hips as you balanced against him. “You’re doing great.” 
You gripped the sleeves of his shirt. “I should know how to walk,” you said through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t have stayed in bed so long.” 
“You were healing. Resting. No one expected you to hop up and be fine, y/n.” 
“I moped for too long. This wouldn’t be so hard if I had started earlier.” 
“Hey—” 
Frustration had accumulated, building since realizing that you really were only a fraction of yourself, and that was probably why Azriel hadn’t come back. You clenched your teeth once more and pushed from Cassian’s body, finding the ground beneath your feet and ignoring the protest from the Illyrian before you—the one with his wings so tightly pressed to his back that you almost could forget they were there. Almost. 
But the action was short-lived. Cassian grappled for your waist as your body only allowed you two steps forward before you shot backward, an ache permeating down your spine as it tried to accommodate the movement. 
“Cauldron, y/n, warn a guy,” Cassian scolded, stepping you back to sit on the bed. “Did you do this with everyone or am I just special?” 
Frustration burned behind your eyes. You stayed silent as you scrubbed your hand down your face. You couldn’t even fling yourself back against the bed as you wanted, knowing that pain would radiate down your back if you did. 
You couldn’t do anything. The extra time you’d spent with Azriel had created a false sense of… something you needed to let go of. He was pitying you—that was all. You were a broken creature, and he felt responsible. 
“What was that about, huh?” Cassian asked, kneeling before you and looking up below a raised brow. 
“I’m broken,” you admitted, resolute and small. “That’s why Azriel won’t come back, isn’t it? I can’t walk. I’m not how I was. I let this happen to me. I should know how to walk.” 
Cassian’s tongue clicked as his head tilted to the side. “No, y/n, you’re not broken. You didn’t let anything happen to you. This is all—Gods, this is all a fucking mess. But the one thing you can know is that you aren’t broken. And Azriel—he’s dealing with something right now. He’s not avoiding you because you’re broken.” 
You stared back at him, the empty feeling slowly creeping back into your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded when Cassian gave you an expectant look. You would act as if you believed him, and the following day, when Azriel stepped through your door, maybe it felt a bit easier to lie. 
“Did you handle what you needed to?” you asked him, your hands cemented against his own as he guided you around your room. The words came out strained as your balance faltered. 
Azriel took a moment before responding, “You could say that.” 
“Was it Elain?” You hadn’t meant to ask the question, and the bitterness in your tone was new to even you, but it came out all the same. You avoided Azriel’s gaze as it snapped to your face. 
“Some of it,” he admitted. His eyes burned into you. You stared at your feet as you stepped. “But only some.” 
“How’s that working out for you?” 
“Y/n.” 
You stepped again. And again. It was easier each day, but that also spelled a more difficult future. The further you walked, the sooner you would have to come to terms with your wings being gone. Staying in bed helped you avoid that truth. 
You ignored Azriel’s call and stepped again. 
“Look at me. Please.” 
You shifted your jaw to the side but glanced up through your lashes and gave in to his request. Azriel’s beseeching expression made you falter. 
“I can never apologize fully for not being there that night. With Elain—“ Azriel paused, wincing. “I’ve been blind to what’s important. You tried to tell me. Everyone tried to tell me. I was so caught up in a chance at happiness. It was never about Elain.” 
You had no reply. Your legs were shaking. 
Azriel seemed to take a different approach. “I meant what I said before—that you’re incredible. You’ve pushed yourself so hard and we’re all proud of you.” 
“Is that why you didn’t come back when you said you would?” you asked. The tinge of bitterness remained. “Because you’re proud of me?” 
“I had to—y/n, there were things—“ 
“Just say you’ve been visiting out of pity, Azriel. That would make this easier.” 
You gripped his hands harder as your wave of frustration made walking more difficult. You grunted slightly and Azriel took that as a sign to shift your weight from your feet, holding you to his body even as you struggled against him, even as you averted your gaze. 
Gods, this was better when you kept your mouth shut. 
“I do not pity you. Y/n—y/n. I don’t, do you hear me?” 
“Why?” you stressed, pushing your hands against his chest in a futile escape attempt. “Why, Azriel? Too busy running after Elain to make room for it?” 
“Don’t say that. I already told you—“
“Just let me go.” 
“No.”
“Oh, so now you listen to me.” 
“Y/n—“ 
“This was already humiliating, Azriel. And then you said you’d be back and you weren’t,” you accused. “You got weird when I finally started walking and I know you only came in here because Cassian told you about yesterday.” 
“Yesterday?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. It was so much easier to be angry than hurt. “When I asked about you. I know he can’t keep a secret.” 
Azriel only shook his head. “He hadn’t told me anything. I needed a few days because I’m the weak one. Me. I needed distance because I’m reminded, every time I see you, that I could have prevented this. Im selfish.
“And Elain,” he trailed off, hazel eyes flicking between yours. “I had to tell her that I’ve been a fool. I won’t be pursuing her anymore.” 
Your brows furrowed. You gave up fighting against Azriel, but he kept both of your hands in a grip at his chest, his other arm locked at your lower back. This felt like a weight lifted from your chest, but it wasn’t that easy. None of this was easy. 
“Why?” 
Azriel paused. 
Something flashed across his face, indecipherable to even you, but he covered it just as quickly.
“It wasn’t supposed to be her. I’ve always known that.” 
More silence blanketed the room. Your earlier anger melted into a white-hot embarrassment that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You’d never been one quick to anger. Azriel hadn’t even blinked an eye. 
“Can I help you back to your bed?”
You pressed your lips together. 
“I want to read with you, if that’s alright?” 
Your head turned down. You nodded. 
~~ 
Azriel’s POV 
Azriel couldn’t tell you. 
He couldn’t. 
It was clear that no bond lit up your chest as his did, and that made sense to Azriel. You’d been through a loss few could ever imagine. You were stuck in your head for most of the day, and then angry or numb for the rest of it. The only time you seemed to find reprieve was during conversation that had nothing to do with anything of meaning. 
Azriel would take what he could get. So he read beside you and helped you walk and he didn’t tell you that a bond connected your souls. 
How could he even broach the subject, anyway? When he had so openly pined after another woman? 
This was not the time. 
You needed to focus on yourself. He would focus on you and you would focus on yourself. 
It had been about a month since you began walking again, and two since your injury. He counted each day. On the second week of the third month, Azriel saw you in the hallway. Feyre walked alongside you as you trailed your fingers on the wall, and while it gave the air of a casual stroll, he could see his High Lady’s hand hover behind you. While he took effortful breaths to calm his excitement, his shadows did not. 
“Azriel, what terrible timing!” Feyre scolded, batting away the shadows as they stormed you. “I finally got her out here and you're going to knock her over with air.”
“I apologize,” he spoke, but he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. Despite your unsteady gait, you lit up as his shadows swirled around you, displacing your hair and clothes as you went. And then you laughed; a small sound, but one that Azriel felt in his chest. 
“Call them back,” you giggled. Azriel’s face warmed along with his chest. “I’m going to collapse into this wall if you don’t.” 
“Azriel,” Feyre called, and Azriel hadn’t noticed he was staring. He blinked and shook his head as if to clear it and tried to call his shadows back. And then tried again. 
They were stuck to you. 
“I really am trying,” he explained, taking a step closer. “They seem attached.” 
“I can’t imagine why,” Feyre groaned. She shot the Shadowsinger a look and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you into her side. “Idiot bats.” 
As the pair walked past him, his shadows still whispering along your arms, you hooked your chin over your shoulder, casting him a lingering gaze. It was odd to see your face with such clarity, no wings clouding his view. Even more odd was the uncomfortable way you walked; the leaning into Feyre’s side was more necessary than for the show. 
The strangest thing, however, was the tug in his chest that left him breathless. Every time you looked at him, that thread in his chest tugged and yanked and begged him to get closer. 
But this wasn’t the time. 
Maybe it wouldn’t be the time for several decades. 
Not after he let you down in such a way. 
He would spend the rest of his life making up for that, even if you were none the wiser to the bond between you. He would protect you for the rest of your life, as he was meant to do from the beginning. That feeling, the urge, only swelled as you turned forward and continued your walk with your High Lady, Azriel still hearing the remnants of your laugh in the hall as you went. 
A shadow broke away from your figure and lopped around his ear, reminding him that he actually did have a destination before he became so enraptured by you. It whispered to him hurriedly and Azriel had to break his gaze from your retreating back as he made his way to Rhysand’s study. Each step had him increasingly irritated; he should have been with you the day you decided to leave your room. 
He bit back his vexation when he felt the tension in the room. 
“Azriel. Good,” Rhysand greeted. The door swung shut. “Sit. We need to talk.” 
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Azriel remarked, shifting his leathers as he took a wide seat on the chair across Rhysand’s desk. 
From the couch beside him, Cassian let out a humorless chuckle. “I think you’ll find this quite promising, brother.” 
“As long as it’s quick. I have other things to attend to today.” 
Cassian sent a wry grin in Rhysand’s direction. “I told you he’d see her in the hall.” He turned back to Azriel. “Packed schedule today, Az?” 
“You know better, Cassian,” Rhysand chided, the lightness in his tone betraying the scolding nature of his words. 
“Is there an actual point to this discussion?” Azriel deadpanned. 
“Bond feeling a little loose?” 
Azriel threw him a dirty look. It hadn’t taken a genius to recognize the change in Azriel the day the bond snapped, his heightened aggression paired with the scent of you still lingering on his clothes had Cassian immediately clocking the Shadowsinger. He’d looked surprised—gaurded and surprised. Rhysand looked as if he’d been the one waiting for the bond to snap, and Azriel had sent him a myriad of questions. 
Namely: Why the hell wouldn’t he tell him he thought you were his mate? 
“Don’t taunt him, Cass.” 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
“Are we getting to the point?” Azriel drawled. The desire to get back to you itched beneath his skin. Maybe you’d made it to the kitchen and he’d sit at the table beside you. 
Rhysand sighed. He tapped his finger against a piece of parchment laid on the desk. “I have correspondence from the northeast camp. From the spies you have placed there.” 
Azriel sat up in his chair. “Why wouldn’t they speak to me directly?” 
“I had them turn all communication over to me. You’re too close to this and I wouldn’t have you acting rashly and putting yourself in unnecessary danger.” 
“They are my spies—” 
“I didn’t do it to undermine you, Azriel,” Rhysand interrupted, raising a hand in surrender. “You can’t tell me that if you got word her attackers were found you wouldn’t immediately rush into that camp without a plan or even a weapon.” 
Azriel breathed hard from his nose and clenched the wooden chair arms between scarred fingers. 
In the silence, Rhysand continued. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, brother. But you understand why that was a risk I couldn’t take.” 
“What did the correspondence say?” Azriel gritted out, his mood depleted of the lightness you had brought. 
Rhysand eyed Cassian on the other side of the room before fixing his gaze on his Spymaster. “The escaped attackers have been identified. They aren’t contained, and no one even knows where they are, but we know who they are.” 
Fiery rage met Azriel’s soured mood.
If only he knew of the terrors that would continue to fall. 
2K notes · View notes
jayybugg · 11 months ago
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nurse
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.
Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).
Word Count: 4.6K
Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.
Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.
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Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.
So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.
“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”
There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”
Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.
Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.
First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.
Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.
“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”
“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.
“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”
“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”
“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.
“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”
“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”
“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.
“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.
“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.
Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.
“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”
With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”
Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.
You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.
“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.
“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.
“I know.”
“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”
There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.
“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”
Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”
Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.
“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”
“No, I don’t.”
You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”
“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.
“But-”
Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.
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“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.
“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”
“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”
“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”
You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.
“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.
“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”
“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.
“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.
Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.
When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.
“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.
Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”
“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.
“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”
“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.
“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.
Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.
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When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.
You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.
You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.
“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”
“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”
Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.
“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.
That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.
However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.
It felt familiar.
Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.
“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.
“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.
You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.
“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.
Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.
“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.
“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”
“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.
You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”
“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.
You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.
4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”
Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”
“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.
“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”
Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.
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You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.
You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.
You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.
“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”
You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”
Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.
“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.
“Give me a check-up.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.
“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”
“I do but-”
“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.
You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”
Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”
“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.
It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.
“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.
“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.
Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”
“What?” Your eyes widened.
“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”
“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.
“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.
Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.
“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”
“Ghost....”
“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”
“How I need to ruin you.”
You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”
“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”
You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”
“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”
Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.
A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.
“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.
You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”
You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”
“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.
He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.
“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.
Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”
Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.
He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.
Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.
Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.
“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”
Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.
“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”
Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.
“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.
“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.
“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.
“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.
“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.
Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.
“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.
“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”
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“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.
“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”
“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.
“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”
Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”
Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.
“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”
“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.
“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”
Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.
Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.
3K notes · View notes
pholla-jm · 11 months ago
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My Wife is Real
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IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 
Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 
It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 
Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 
“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 
Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 
Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 
Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 
Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 
Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 
Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 
Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 
Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 
“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 
Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 
“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 
“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 
Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 
Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 
“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 
Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 
He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 
You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 
Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 
“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 
You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 
“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 
“Hello.” 
“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 
“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 
“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 
“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 
You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 
“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 
“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 
You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 
Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 
“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 
You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 
Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.
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reidmotif · 3 months ago
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I’ve Got My Eye On You
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Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.
Word Count: 3.5k
Masterlist
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I’d always been good at watching people. 
My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 
And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 
Pay more attention, I guess. 
It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 
The infamous "Dr Reid".
His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).
 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 
I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 
My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 
I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 
Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 
I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 
At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 
Like, come on. Give me anything here. 
Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 
Now? 
Now… 
Silence. 
Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 
A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 
I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 
He wasn’t alone. 
Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 
He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 
For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 
His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 
I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 
I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 
“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.
She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 
I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 
I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 
I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 
I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  
Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 
When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 
That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 
I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 
I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 
“I noticed that one first, you know.”
I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.
He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 
I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 
“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:
“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 
God, did he have to be so hot?
“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 
“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 
I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 
He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 
I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.
“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 
“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 
“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 
“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 
“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 
I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 
“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 
“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 
“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 
I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?
“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 
I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 
“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.
“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 
“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 
At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 
“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”
There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.
“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 
He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 
“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 
I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 
I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 
“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.
“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 
Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 
I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 
He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 
“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 
I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 
“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 
He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 
I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 
Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 
“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”
“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 
I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 
“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”
I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 
He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 
Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 
“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 
“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 
“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 
“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 
“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  
“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 
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okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!
1K notes · View notes
0luv9 · 1 year ago
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can't move on || mattheo riddle
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Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.
Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.
Words: 4.025k
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Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.
He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.
His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.
Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.
"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.
"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.
He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.
"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.
“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.
You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.
Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.
He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.
He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.
Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.
One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.
He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.
He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.
Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.
He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.
Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.
They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.
She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-
He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"
"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.
He fucked up.
"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.
It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.
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