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mugglebornmarvelite · 20 days ago

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Mission Mishap

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: A recon mission gone awry leads to Bucky having to protect his sunshine. As the snowstorm gets worse, he becomes her shelter from the storm, showing a tenderness that he rarely allows others to see.

Word Count: Roughly 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, fluff, injury-related pain, bruising, cold exposure, mild language (like two curse words)

Author’s Note: It was snowing, and I got ✨inspired✨

This felt a little choppy because I combined two drabbles, but I think it works :)

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What should have been a quick recon in the mountains became more complicated when a snowstorm hit faster and harder than previously anticipated. You could barely keep up with Bucky as he pushed ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the nearby. The cold penetrated through your layers; gnawing at your bones and intensifying the ache of your bruises, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

"Can you handle a few more yards?" he asked, his voice low, and despite the chaos, was comforting. "Map says there’s a hostel a quarter of a mile away."

"I’m fine," you mumbled. You knew your words were merely a weak attempt to reassure both yourself and him.

Bucky turned his head toward you, his gaze softening.

"Don’t do that," he replied. "Stop pretending you’re fine when you’re so clearly not."

The harsh wind bit at your face, and you tried to keep up with him, you couldn't hide the way your teeth chattered.

"You need to stop," Bucky said, voice sharp and authoritative. "You’re shaking like a leaf. Let me help you."

Before you could argue, he moved without hesitation, shedding his jacket in one smooth motion and draping it over your shoulders.

"Come here," Bucky said. "No arguments. You’re freezing, and I won’t let it get worse."

You tried to protest as you stammered, "I-I’m fine. Really, Bucky, I’m fine."

But Bucky wasn’t having it.

His glared down and you and you looked away.

"No, you’re not," he said again, this time softer. "You’re going to listen to me now, okay?"

He didn’t wait for a response. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your arms around his neck and lifting you without much effort. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as you gave up on protesting. His body heat radiated through his sweater and the warm jacket he wrapped you in helped in instantly melting away the cold that had settled into your bones.

Bucky’s chest rose and fell under you, steady and reassuring, grounding you as the world around you spun with snow, harsh winds making it difficult to see. He held you close, his grip never wavering as if to say he wasn’t letting go, not for anything.

"You listen to me," he said said softly. "If anything happens to you out here, I’m going to be fucking pissed. Understand?"

"Noted," you said softly, your voice muffled by his neck. You tightened your grip on him, clinging to him as your life depended on it because, in a way, it did. Not that you’d ever complain.

You could feel his steady heartbeat, the way his breath slowed as he focused on getting you both to safety. His steps were purposeful, unhurried, but determined as he carried you toward the small hostel.

When you finally reached the building, Bucky didn’t waste a second. Without a word, he guided you inside and he gently set you down on a chair. The warmth of the room feeling like a stark contrast to the biting cold that had gripped you just moments before. Pun intended.

"You stay here," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "I’ll get us a room and call the team."

You nodded.

As he moved to make arrangements, you wrapped yourself tightly in his jacket, the faint scent of him still lingering on the fabric.

You winced from the pain in your side, but you manged to stay still. You looked out the window, watching as the storm raged on.

When Bucky returned, he didn’t waste any time sitting next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

"Better?" he asked.

You leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence envelop you.

"Yeah," you said softly. "Much better. Thanks, Bucky."

"You don’t have to thank me," he muttered, his voice low, almost intimate. "I’m just doing what’s right. Keeping you safe."

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his embrace. "I know," you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with gratitude. "And I’m glad you’re here."

Bucky’s fingers brushed through your hair, his protective grip never faltering. "And I’m not going anywhere," he murmured.

A moment later, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the room he booked and dumping you on the bed. The sudden motion made you giggle as you kicked off your boots.

Bucky turned up the heat, and as the warmth began to fill the room, you settled onto the covers.

"What did the team say?" you asked quietly.

"They’ll try to make it tonight," he replied. "But I told them we can wait until the morning."

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I’m keeping you safe tonight," he murmured, quickly adding, "And Sam snores. I can hear him from two rooms down the hall. I’m in no rush to go home, sunshine."

You laughed softly, your eyes brightening. "You’re unbelievable, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, his usual grumpy expression softened. "Yeah, but you’re stuck with me."

"Seriously though," he said, his voice suddenly quieter, "I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not on my watch."

"I know," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. "And I trust you."

His eyes softened, just for a moment, before he cleared his throat and pulled away slightly, pretending to be unaffected by the vulnerability in the air.

“Hey,” he muttered, his voice hushed and rough with concern. He paused for a moment as if considering whether to push or back off. He couldn’t ever quite figure out how to balance his protective nature. But when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. “You sure you’re okay?”

You forced a smile, shifting a little more, trying to get comfortable, but the throbbing in your side was relentless. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice. He already had enough on his shoulders; you wouldn’t let him add your worries to his pile.

“I’m fine,” you whispered. Lie.

"Bullshit," he grumbled, his voice laced with frustration, the one that surfaced when he cared too much and couldn’t fix things fast enough. "What’s the matter?"

Bucky stared at you, his eyes narrowing.

God, that stare.

It was like he could read every inch of your soul, and you couldn’t breathe under the weight of it.

“Talk to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your side flaring up in protest. You winced, sucking in a sharp breath, hoping he didn’t notice, but of course, he did.

He always noticed when it came to his sunshine.

"My side. Just a little pain," you admitted, the bruise hidden under the layers of clothing you still wore.

Bucky’s face softened, his worry evident. Without a word, he stood up, reaching for the small medical kit in his bag.

"Lift your shirt," he said, his voice low but commanding.

"I'm fine-" You mumbled.

But Bucky wasn’t one to back down. He crouched in front of you, his large hands already moving to your waist, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt with a touch that was far too tender for someone like him.

“Lift.” The word was soft, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a warning wrapped in affection. The way he said it made it clear that this was happening.

You frowned and you raised the hem of your shirt, exposing the tender spot on your side where the impact from earlier had left its mark. "Shh, sunshine." He whispers soothingly. "You're okay, promise."

Bucky’s hands were gentle as he inspected the injury, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, and his touch was careful but sure. There was something tender about the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It made you lightheaded.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he muttered, though you could hear the underlying concern in his tone. “But we’re still gonna clean it up, yeah?”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his expression softened into something that hurt to look at.

Like you meant something to him.

The second his fingers brushed over your side, just lightly grazing the bruise, you couldn’t help it. A whimper escaped, and your body tensed. You hated it. Hated being weak.

“Shh.” His voice was soothing. “You’re doing so good.”

You tried to move, to escape the pressure, but Bucky’s hand was already on your abdomen, holding you gently but firmly in place. His fingers splayed out over your skin, not forceful, but steady.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice strained as another wave of pain hit and you squirmed.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky murmured, his grip tightening just a little, his other hand reaching for the antiseptic wipe. "Just breathe for me, okay?"

Something about his voice, soft yet commanding, made the tension in your body ease just enough for you to inhale deeply, to steady yourself.

“You’re tough, sunshine,” Bucky murmured, his eyes softening even more as he cleaned the bruise. "You’ll be alright."

But his voice held a gentleness that made your heartache. As he worked, cleaning the wound, his touch was slow, deliberate. The sting from the wipe was sharp, but his hands on your skin were grounding, like he was pulling the pain out of you with every careful movement.

Every time you whimpered, every time the pain made itself known, he soothed you with gentle words,“I know, sunshine, I got you,” “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

He cleaned the wound with slow, careful movements. The cool, sterile wipe stung a little, but his gentle touch was soothing, making the discomfort easier to bear.

“I got you.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. A calm anchor. “Just breathe, sunshine.”

And you did.

When he finally finished, he leaned back and reached for a bandage. He pressed the bandage against your side like he was trying to heal something deeper than the bruise, something you couldn’t name.

“Good as new.” His voice was softer now. “You’re tough, sunshine. You’ll be alright.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing the edge of the bandage. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, but there was no bite to it. His gruffness was a comfort, like a wall of security you could lean against when everything else felt shaky.

“Just-” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the rare tenderness that always made your chest tighten. “Get some sleep, alright?”

You nodded, curling up under the covers.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, your voice small and soft as you nestled against him.

Bucky’s hand gently brushed through your hair, his fingers pausing to stroke your scalp in a way that made you feel like the most important thing in the world.

“Goodnight, милая девочка.” Sweet girl.

His words were quiet, a soft reassurance in the night. You let out a sigh, the ache in your side fading as the warmth of his body enveloped you, and slowly, you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Bucky stayed awake for a while, keeping watch, making sure you were alright. But as the night drew on, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, making sure you were okay before falling asleep himself.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #winter feels #new year #fanfic #fanfiction #grumpy x sunshine #comehomebucky #the kids miss you #overprotective bucky

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hazelfoureyes · 11 months ago

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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about.

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly.

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts.

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down.

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there.

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest. As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die.

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger.

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby.

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?”

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then.

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful.

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio.

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him.

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor.

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy?

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone.

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.”

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?”

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.”

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you.

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?”

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric.

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death.

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot.

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him.

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms.

You chose to come back.

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you.

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest.

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face.

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep.

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place.

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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wandaslittlebird · 7 days ago

Text

It Was Never Perfect

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After your perfect week alone with Wanda, the rest of your family comes home. You start to wonder if it was the right choice to even come home in the first place.

CW: R is hella jealous of everyone, stepcest, shitty father, possessive sex, body writing, oral sex, overstimulation, risky sex, Freud’s rolling in his grave, R is a little freak

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This one kinda sucks and it’s very angst heavy. It’s kinda a huge fucking downer but in a slightly ✨sexy✨ way. I promise chapter 5 will be well worth it though. Sorry this took so long to come out!

Part 4 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

For what it’s worth, you did get to wake up in Wanda’s arms on Christmas morning. You were gently shaken awake at 6:30 in the morning with light kisses to your face. “Merry Christmas, little love,” she whispered.

You flopped over onto her chest, a sleepy smile plastered across your face. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The two of you spent the whole morning in bed together, tangled in each other's limbs. You didn’t even get up to brush your teeth before your lips were pressed to hers. Neither of you minded, though. You were far too concerned with having your hands and lips all over each other to let something as silly as morning breath stop you.

Around 9 o’clock though, when your lips had just made their way to her navel, you heard the front door open. Wanda groaned, reluctantly pushing you away and rolling out of bed. She put on a pair of Christmas pajamas and threw you a pair onto the bed. You reluctantly pried yourself off her mattress, putting on the pajamas.

You heard the shouts as soon as she left the bedroom. “Mommy!”s suddenly filled the foyer and the staircase as you heard little footsteps scramble their way up the stairs. The sound made your stomach turn with envy. That was your mama.

You walked out of the bedroom to find everyone in the foyer. Billy and Tommy, your stepbrothers and Wanda’s other children, were wrapped tightly around her waist. Wanda’s real children, you reminded yourself.

She had her arms wrapped around them as she kissed both of their heads. “I missed you boys so much! It’s been so lonely around here without you guys.” She knelt down on the ground, kissing all over their faces in the manner she’d kissed yours only hours ago.

Your stomach went sour. Lonely? She’d spent the week feeling lonely? No. She was lying. She was just saying that to make them feel better. She hadn’t been lonely. She had you. You were all she needed, right?

She only twisted the knife further when she stood up straight to greet your father. “I’ve missed you, my love,” she said softly before taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

You thought you were going to be sick. You turned around and ran into the bathroom, bracing yourself against the sink. This couldn’t be happening. You were her love. You were her baby. You were her favorite, her whole world, the only person she’d ever need. She spent the week telling you so. So why were suddenly feeling like the least important person in this entire house?

You turned on the sink and splashed your face with cool water. You watched yourself in the mirror as the cool water ran down your chin. Suddenly, you were 18 all over again…

—--------

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day, beaming with pride and excitement. You’d been working for two whole years and it finally paid off. You’d spent months studying to get your GED, then even longer studying to get a near perfect score on your ACT, all to get to this moment: getting accepted to college. A full ride to the local university, nonetheless. Wanda was going to be ecstatic.

You’d found out last night, but you wanted to wait until morning to tell Wanda, when the boys had left for school, your dad had left for work, and it was just the two of you alone. You crept into her office, the piece of paper held firmly in your hands.

By the time you knocked on the door though, Wanda looked tired and pissed. “Mama?” you called into the room, hoping this would cheer her up.

You hadn’t noticed Wanda was on the phone. She put her finger to her lips to indicate you needed to be quiet. You dropped your hands to the side, chewing on your lip impatiently.

“Yeah, okay,” she sighed to the person over the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and threw it into her bag. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off. “I’ve gotta go to the school. Tommy apparently thought it would be funny to shove his brother in a locker,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She picked her bag up from under the desk, practically shoving past you to get out the door.

“But, mama…” you said, trying to run down the stairs after her.

“Can you make sure my computer doesn’t shut off before I get back, please? I’ve gotta go,” she interrupted again, walking out the front door and all but slamming it in your face.

You froze for a minute, heart shattering into a million pieces. Time seemed to stand still as the letter fell from your hand and onto the ground of the foyer. You shrunk into yourself, feeling like the tiniest, most insignificant thing on the entire planet. You tucked your knees to your chest, sitting on the bottom step. Tears poured from your eyes, clogging your sinus until you could hardly breathe. Sobs ripped through your chest, echoing through the foyer so loud it shook the glass chandelier.

It was always going to be like this. You shouldn’t have expected anything less, really. Wanda was never yours to begin with. You were stupid for thinking she cared. You were even stupider to think she cared about you over her own kids. Her real kids. Whatever you thought you had with her, whatever you thought she felt, was a fairytale.

You had a mother, a real one, and she didn’t care about you. You were dealt a shitty hand, and you still thought you could somehow win the game. This “having a mother” thing was simply an impossibility for you. You could toil all you wanted. It was futile. You had already lost.

This was reality. You were alone.

You were already tucked up in the furthest corner of your room when Wanda walked through the front door. “You, young man, are gonna spend the rest of the afternoon in your room finishing up all this homework you missed,” She sternly informed Tommy, sending him angrily up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door, only furthering Wanda’s fury.

She set down her bag and shoes at the door, huffing. She noticed a piece of paper carelessly discarded on the hardwood. She sighed in annoyance. Did anyone know how to pick up after themselves around here?

She picked up the piece of paper, charging up the stairs. She knocked on your bedroom door.. “Honey? You left this in the foyer. I really need you to start picking up after yourself, okay? You can’t just be leaving things all over the house.”

When you didn’t answer, she huffed again. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She folded up the paper and slid it under the crack of your door without reading it. She went back to her office without another word.

You made your way to the door, taking the letter in your hands and ripping it in half. You weren’t going to that stupid fucking university. You weren’t going to stay in this stupid fucking town. You were done playing house with a family that wasn’t yours. You were done savoring the praise of the woman who wasn’t even your real mom.

You were going to go somewhere new. Somewhere better. You were gonna find people who cared about you.

You didn’t need her. You didn’t need anyone. If no one else was going to be happy for you, you were going to be happy for you. And that was going to be enough. That was going to have to be. There was nothing else.

—--------

You shivered, drying your face before heading downstairs.

“Hey, honey! Look boys! It’s your sister!” Wanda cheered, trying to get the boys excited to see you. They shyly hid behind her legs, scared in the way children get when an unfamiliar presence intrudes on their familiarity. You hadn’t seen them in over two years. You were practically a stranger.

“Are you coming to your grandmother’s with us?” your father asked.

You looked at Wanda. She could immediately read more than just confusion. There was something very wrong. “She’s gonna stay here. With me,” she answered for you.

Your father made no comment, turning back to the boys. “Alright fellas, go bring your bags up to your rooms. We gotta get to grandma’s for presents.”

“Presents” seemed to be the magic word, as the boys immediately ran up the stairs, carrying their bags with them and getting ready to leave again. You, Wanda, and your dad were all left in the foyer.

There was a terribly awkward silence, then Wanda spoke up. “Well,” she started, “speaking of presents, we were just finishing the last of the wrapping up in the bedroom. We should get back to it. So it’s done by the time you all get back. Right?” She looked at you, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

You nodded, desperate to get out of this situation. “Right.”

Wanda wasted no time grabbing your hand and whisking you away. When she reached the top of the steps, she called back down to your father. “We’re wrapping things for you, so don’t come up here!”

She pulled you into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind you. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s wrong, little love?”

Your brow furrowed in something between sadness and anger. “You’re my mama. Mine.”

She cocked her head to the side, trying not to look amused as you were very clearly upset. “Aww, sweetheart,” she whispered with a slight chuckle. “Of course I’m your mama, sweet girl.”

You stood in front of her silently, the same angry and sad look on your face.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said quietly, cupping your cheek in her hand. “Is it hard for you to share mama after you’ve had her to yourself all week?”

You nodded, face softening ever so slightly. “You kissed dad! And… and you told the boys you had a bad week with me!”

“Honey,” she said, a bit firmer this time. “That isn’t what I said. I told the boys I missed them. And we both know I take no pleasure in kissing your father. Can you tell me what’s really got you so worked up? Talk to mama.”

You rubbed your arm, hesitant to spill your concerns. “Now that your real family is back you're gonna forget all about me like mom did,” you finally said, speaking just above a whisper.

“Oh sweetheart. No no no. Mama’s not gonna forget about you,” she gently pulled you into her arms, tucking your head just under her chin. “I could never forget about you. You’re mama’s special girl, remember?”

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“I promise,” she assured.

You stood for a moment, trying to find solace in her arms. When you couldn’t find any, you desperately demanded “say it again.”

But before she could respond you heard your dad shout up from the basement. “Come on boys! We’re gonna be late to grandma’s!”

Wanda pulled away. “I should help them get ready,” she explained, turning to leave the room. You winced as she closed the door, leaving you alone in her room.

You were beyond angry. You were seething, practically vibrating with jealousy.

You sulked to the bed, looking to the nightstand and picking up the black sharpie Wanda was using to write on the gifts last night. You uncapped the marker, staring at the black felt tip. Permanent may not actually mean permanent, but it wouldn’t come off for at least a few days.

You were gonna make sure everyone knew who she belonged to.

It was only a few minutes before you heard Wanda shouting out the front door, wishing the boys and your father safe travels. You waited impatiently, counting each step you heard on her way back to the bedroom.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, you were on her, tearing at her closer, trying to get her closer. She took your hands in hers, stilling them. “Woah woah woah. Slow down. We have plenty of time.”

But when she looked in your eyes, she didn’t see the same seductive, blissful face she’d seen this morning where you’d left off before your dad got home. No. You were angry. Possessive. Jealous.

“So that’s how this is gonna be,” she conceded with a smirk. She didn’t say anything more, but she looked almost excited. You didn’t respond, holding that same dangerous glare. She let go of your hands, giving you silent permission to continue.

You pushed her body backwards until it hit the wall. You lips met hers in a harsh, bruising kiss that would leave both your lips swollen. You only pulled away for a moment to rip her shirt off over her head. She moaned as your hands pawed at her breast, squeezing them hard enough to hurt. You teased her nipples between your pointer finger and thumb, pinching and pulling them until she yelped.

When you were sure her lips were puffy and raw, you made your way down her body, kneeling in front of her until you were face to face with her center. You looked up at her hungrily as you slowly pulled at the waistband of her pajama pants. “Say it again, mama. Tell me I’m special and you love me the most.”

She gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up and stroking your cheekbone with her thumb. Even in your lustful, jealous haze there was a moment of peace when she said “You’re my most special girl, little love. Mama loves you more than anything in the world.”

You made short work of pulling her underwear and pants the rest of the way down. You gently kissed her mound before hungirly diving into her core, sucking her clit into your mouth. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in a blissful expression. She reached down and grabbed your hair, keeping you pressed tight against her. “Oh… fuck… please… oh my love…”

She threw her leg over your shoulder, pulling you even closer as your tongue circled her entrance. You reached up to stead her waist with your hands, holding her in place. “You’re making mama feel so good baby. Fuck I love you so much,” she panted, her legs starting to shake. She pulled one of your hands from her waist, holding it tight for support.

“You’re gonna make mama cum, baby,” she breathed, arching away from the wall. You could feel her heel digging into your back as her wetness coated your tongue. You were addicted to her taste, and determined to be the only one who ever got the privilege of tasting her again. Your nails dug into the skin of her thigh as her hand tightened in your hair. She came with a silent scream, nearly collapsing to the ground against the wall.

She smiled at you, satisfied. But you had that same hungry look in your eye. A look that told her you were far from done.

“Say it again,” you demanded weakly. As angry as you were, you still just looked so little and desperate. You just wanted to be loved. You just wanted your mama.

“Baby,” she cooed. She was still panting and disheveled. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Say. It. Again.” You commanded, biting down on your own lip.

“You are my most precious angel. My most special girl,” she repeated.

Wordlessly, you laid on your stomach in front of her, your face hovering over her sex. You blew cool air against the sensitive skin. You brought two fingers to her entrance, which, coated with the remains of her orgasm, gave no resistance.

“Ah,” she hummed, “careful baby. Mama’s very sensitive. Oh fuck…”

She bucked into your hand as your fingers curled to meet that special spot inside of her. You lowered your head, pulling her clit back into your mouth and flicking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. She threw her head back, arching herself further into your mouth. She groaned as you added a third finger, pumping yourself in and out of her in rhythm with your tongue.

She grabbed your hair, chanting your name and grinding herself against you. “No one else can do this to me baby. It’s only you. Only you can make mama fall apart like this.” Her words encouraged you and you doubled down, circling her sensitive bud with your tongue.

“Honey… fuck you’re gonna make mama cum again,” she breathed, biting down hard on her lip as she came around your fingers.

This time, you didn’t pull away, continuing your ministrations even after her orgasm subsided.

“Please baby… I can’t…” she panted. She squirmed against your tongue, trying to escape the ceaseless pleasure. You pulled your fingers away, instead wrapping both your arms around her thighs. You held her in place, determined to draw one final orgasm from her.

You alternated between her entrance and her clit, pressing your tongue hard against her. Her legs trembled around your head, unable to handle the sensation. You hummed around her clit, spelling your name with your tongue over and over again.

She came faster this time, forcibly pushing you away as she sprayed a stream of cum onto the carpet. You watched in fascination. You had never seen anyone cum that hard. She went limp against the wall, exhausted.

You helped her up onto the bed, letting her rest against the headboard. You ran to the bathroom quickly to get her a glass of water and a towel, just like she always did for you.

“Thank you,” she smiled, gratefully accepting them both. She had taught you so well.

You knelt down between her legs, laying your head down on her stomach. “I love you, mama,” you said softly, nuzzling into her navel.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she replied, running her fingers gently through your hair. “Are you feeling better now? Do you think you can play nice with your dad and brothers?”

You didn’t respond. You felt better, but swirling thoughts still lingered on your mind. You thought about your father taking your place in her bed. Would she let him touch her like you had? Would he draw the same heavenly sounds from her? Would she tell him she loved the way he touched her too? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could deal with kisses, the hugs, the words of affection, but you couldn’t deal with that.

You sat up and grabbed the sharpie from the nightstand, uncapping with your teeth. She grabbed your wrist. “Honey. We can’t. You know that.”

“He’s not allowed to see you here!” You screamed in despair, pointing at her lower abdomen.

She looked into your desperate eyes. Sex was a scarcity between her and your father anyway. He almost certainly wouldn’t see it. She would just have to be careful getting in and out of the shower. The risk was high, but, if it could bring you even a little relief, the reward was higher. She sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep it below the waist and above the mid thigh.”

You started with your name, big and bold just below her abdomen. You wrote it smaller in cursive on her inner thighs and then initialled and put a heart right next to each of her nipples before sitting back to admire your creation.

You added a few more hearts along her pelvis before capping the marker and putting it back on the nightstand.

Your dialated eyes and possessive gaze didn’t escape Wanda’s notice. She reached up and rubbed your chin. “I’m all yours baby. Do you like that? Knowing no one else gets to touch mama like you do? Nobody else makes mama feel so good.”

You nodded eagerly. “Not even dad because you love me more than him, right.”

She smiled gently and pulled you down to rest against her bare chest. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. Not even your father makes me feel like you do.” She tapped the tip of your nose affectionately. “Now let’s get this shirt off so mama can hold you nice and close.”

You put your arms up so she could pull the dense sweater from your body. She discarded it to the side along with the clothes you’d torn off her earlier. You laid flat against her warm skin. Her nails gently scratched up and down your back. “There we go. That’s my sweet girl. Do you feel better now?”

You nodded against her chest, wrapping your arms around her in the tight space between her body and the mattress. She played with your hair, silently at first, but then she started to sing softly. You recognize the tune, but the words were in Wanda’s native language.

You laid like that for a long time, listening to the soft beat of her heart, until the front door opened again and you heard two sets of little feet running through the foyer. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away and put back on your sweater.

Once you were both dressed, you reached to unlock the door, but Wanda grabbed your hand.

“Wait. One more thing,” she said, turning you around to face her. She knelt down in front of you and lifted your shirt. “Hold this.”

You cocked your brow in confusion, but held your sweater up. It was only when she lifted her hand to touch your stomach that you noticed the sharpie between her fingers. You felt the cool tip glide across your stomach, just above your navel. In her neat cursive penmanship, she had written “Mama’s Special Girl”. She capped the marker and grabbed your hip on either side, pulling you close and kissing your stomach. The kiss left a distinct red lipstick print just under her words. You beamed as you looked down at what she had left.

She climbed to her feet, dropping your sweater to cover the message. “Alright. Let’s go have Christmas.”

—--------

Despite your reservations, Christmas went better than expected. It helped that your father, in his usual shitty mood, left to go take a nap, claiming he was exhausted and it just couldn’t wait. No one protested.

The boys opened their presents with all the excitement expected of 8 year olds. It did actually make you feel better that they warmed up to you quickly. Maybe you couldn’t be the only person in Wanda’s life, but it was nice to least be part of her family. You kept your hand on your stomach, soothing yourself with the thought of the special words that sat just underneath the fabric.

Wanda, as usual, went way overboard with the gifts, despite you not asking for anything. Some of them were marked “From: Dad” or “From: Santa”, but you knew they were all from her. She had gotten you some dorm room decorations, a lego set, and every item off of your amazon wishlist, a list you didn’t even know she still had access to. She must’ve kept the link from years ago when you still lived at home.

Once all the presents were gone, the boys ran happily around the house, playing with their newly acquired toys. Wanda smiled from her spot next to you on the couch, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Did you get everything?”

You smiled and nodded. “And more. What about you?”

She rubbed your chin affectionately. “Well, you’re here. So you tell me.”

You chuckled and looked nervously down at your lap. “There’s actually something else.”

“Oh?” she asked cheekily.

You got up from the couch and grabbed an envelope from the mantle. You fidgeted nervously with the corner as you brought it to Wanda on the couch. “To: Mama” was scrawled in your messy handwriting on the back.

She carefully opened the envelope revealing an acceptance letter. A full ride scholarship to your local university for the spring semester. You were coming home. For good.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Is this… are you…”

You nodded and she grabbed you, pulling you down on the couch with her in a tight hug. “I love you so much. After my boys, I never thought I could ever be so lucky to get another special blessing in my life. But I found you,” she cradled your head in close. “And I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy!wanda #wanda maximoff x y/n #stepmom wanda #stepmom!wanda

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redstarwriting · 2 years ago

Text

pda/general affection hcs | i.

ft. hobie brown & miles morales

request?: yes

request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can't wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it's rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”

warnings: language, cuteness, mentions of dying, mentions of injuries, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being overwhelmed

a/n: i love hcs lol this was actually how i first starting writing and it’s so fun bc i can be my sarcastic self without having to change any of it teehee, thank you for requesting anon! thinking of doing this for other characters to, what does everyone think?

i’ve made a pt ii. to this with gwen and pavitr if you wanna check it out!

───────────────────────────────────

hobie brown | spider-punk

pda

- he’s kind of a middle ground - not crazy about it - not against it at all - he just - hold onto your hats for this one - ✨he does what he wants✨ - ofc it also depends who’s company you’re in - if y’all are with Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr, he’s super comfortable and a part - of his body will always be touching yours - but it’s not like he’s goin out of his way to be like LOOK AT MY PARTNER - HOWEVER - if he’s ANYWHERE where there are authority figures? - *cough* miguel *cough* - he will just start to make out with you - LMAO - “Hobie, can you stop kissing your partner and listen to me.” “No.” “You’re aware of how rude you’re being?” “Good.” - if you don’t like it ofc he won’t but he WILL be touchier with you in those moments - because it pisses people off - and he loves that - also if he felt threatened? - he’d probably get a little touchier than usual - but honestly he almost never feels threatened so who knows if you’d ever experience that - and if he did ever feel threatened he would feel better knowing that you always wear one of his studded bracelets - ppl will ask where you got it and you’ll be all - “Oh! My boyfriend Hobie!” - he loves seeing the hope drain out of anyone’s eyes when he appears behind you after that statement, he finds it so amusing every time - he’s only obsessed with a few things - like there is something he will ALWAYS do - he is OBSESSED and i mean OBSESSSSSEEDDD with having his hand in your back pocket - at all times - only if it isn’t around your shoulders (another obsession of his) - like y’all are going to one of his shows? - you enter with his hand in your back pocket - after gets offstage? - hand in back pocket - walking home? - hand in back pocket - sometimes y’all will walk instead of him picking you up and webbing back home JUST BECAUSE he wants to put his hand in your back pocket - he also LOVES using you as an armrest - if you’re short, he places his arm on your head like an armrest - if you’re average height, he’s still using your head as an armrest - if you’re tall or as tall as him he will climb a wall to use your head as an armrest - it gets you flustered and he thinks it’s adorable! - and eye contact? - he will keep his eyes trained on you at all times - he’s always looking at you - or else he’s looking for you - only looks away SOMETIMES when he’s talking to other people - “Hobie, I’m over here.” “Yeah, I know.” “So stop looking at them, I’m the one talking to you.” “Yeah, but you ain’t the fittest person in the room so piss off, eh?” - that being said - there is something he just doesn’t do in public - he doesn’t hold hands - i do feel like he would hold pinkies with you upon request - but holding hands just isn’t his thing - in public👀

general affection

- THIS MAN HAS THE WORLD FOOLED - he acts all nonchalant about it - acts like he only does pda to go against societal rules - which he does BUT ALSO - he is so touchy - he isn’t clingy by any regard - but he LOVES being affectionate - just like the smallest things - every morning when y’all wake up in the same bed together and he wakes up before you (which is a lot bc he doesn’t sleep well) he will place a feather-light kiss somewhere on your face so he doesn’t wake you up - but like clockwork - he will do it - and after he will just lay there and hold you for a bit - even when during the night the two of you separate from each other he will always reach out for you during those times - and he will maneuver you back into his arms so he can just lay there with you for a bit - every time you ask him why he just tells you you make him a “bloody softie” - which yeah you do - but also - he gets scared when he comes home, you won’t be there - with his job that isn’t really a job and all, he gets so nervous that you’ll just be fed up with it and leave - or worse, you’ll be used as bait for him - bait which he would immediately take, of course - he even does it because he thinks about the possibility of him not coming home one day - and he wants you to feel like you were loved if that happens - he also just loves the little smile that comes to your face every morning - when you realize he’s done it again - and that is just ONE THING - he hates getting injured, but would lie if he said he hated getting patched up by you - when you’re cleaning his wounds with alcohol the two of you hold hands - he’ll squeeze when it stings and you’ll squeeze when you feel bad - so you’re kinda squeezing his hand the whole time - but you know how i said he doesn’t hold hands in public? - at home it’s a different story - watching tv? - hands are held - looking at the stars from the top of a building? - hands are held - throwing up after drinking too much? - hands are held - so is hair - and he rubs your back - you rub his - he adores back scratches (not when he’s throwing up just in general LMAO) - one thing he didn’t realize he loved so much until it happened was when he was sitting and playing his guitar on y’alls bed - just mindlessly finger picking some melodies - and you came up and sat behind him and put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his cheek and just - stayed there - it made him melt - he loves it so much - he especially loves it when you hum along - even if you can’t hold a tune - it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t care - you can expect him to be all over you the minute he gets back from being Spider-Punk - especially when he has a bad day - i could probably give more examples but this is already kinda long lmao oops

overall

- he LOVES affection - public and private - if he loves you, he’s gonna show it - he’s gonna scream it, literally and figuratively - everyone will know y’all are together - which he loves - but that’s not why he does it - he just loves you - and doesn’t care what other ppl think 🤭

miles morales | spider-man

pda

- omg this lil man is so awkward - i’m far older than him and he makes me think of how nervous and awkward i was at his age when it came to any type of romance - so i can see him being SO unintentionally awkward in public - he tries so hard to be cool - but omg - the tiniest thing will go wrong and he’ll go from 😏 to 😟 - everything is the end of the world until you assure him it isn’t - like the time he saw you outside around Brooklyn Visions Academy and thought it’d be so cute to go up behind you and cover your eyes and say “guess who :)” - except it wasn’t you - you were across the street and watched it all go down - he literally made eye contact with you the minute he tried to be cute - the HORROR on his face - he was immediately apologizing to the random person he just did that to - in the moment you were so confused - but when you and him were in his dorm and he was flailing his arms around -and yelling in lowercase explaining it? - oh my god - hilarious - he was all pouty when you started laughing so you had to attack his face with little kisses to make him cheer up - one would have done the trick but he was grateful for all of the ones you gave him regardless - or the time he went to wrap his arm around your waist during lunch because he wanted to be all cute in school and you turned around as soon as he put his arm out and tried to walk and his sturdiness and strength made you literally drop your lunch tray and the food went everywhere - and there you were again in his dorm as he was flailing his arms around and yelling in lowercase apologizing because you just got new shoes and he ruined it and— - shut him up with a kiss, would you? - a display of public affection that always happens though is you’re always in his jacket - to the point where he has two of the same jacket now so you guys can be twinning :,) - “Look, babe! Same jacket!” “Oh my god wait! We’re gonna be so cute!” “I know, right? Pretty smart and cute of me, huh?” “Very smart and cute of you, Miles.” - he also loves to have his hand on top of yours whenever he can - he’ll do it in class - if y’all go out to eat - if he’s sketching and you’re next to him - and holding hands in public is a favorite of his - it’s very tiny things that he does because every time he tries something big something goes wrong - like opening a door for you and motioning you to go in before him - and always being ready to steady you if you would trip (which happens more than he thought it would) - and always fixing your necklace that he bought you for your birthday (with the help of Rio) when the little clasp comes down in the front - he’s constantly staring at you with a dopey grin on his face - literally will get called out in class because he’s just 👁👄👁 - and then he gets all flustered - but the smile you get on your face letting him know you like him that much will relax him - will go from “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to draw attention to you!” to “yeah, you like that? imma do it more then.” - he’ll also pretend to drum on you with his pencils when you’re near him - especially if he has his headphones in - he likes to play this game where you guess which one of his songs he’s jamming out to - sometimes he says you got it right when you get it wrong just to see you get excited - and he doesn’t necessarily mean for this to be a public display of affection, - but his constant drawing of you is frequently watched by other classmates - the only person who has successfully seen his bold moves of affection is Ganke, and he pretends to gag every time lol

general affection

- he’s such an affectionate boy 🥹 - like i said, Ganke is the only one who successfully sees his physical affection plots work - he’s much smoother when people aren’t around - and yes, he has shown you the shoulder touch - you did it to him once and he short-circuited - i’m so serious he accidentally shocked you - but then he hugged and kissed you for like 40 minutes afterward cause he felt bad - so it wasn’t too bad of an experience - but when it comes to physical affection in private, he’s worlds better at it - any time he plays video games, whether that be with you or Ganke, he has his leg over top of yours - He loves watching movies with you where you lay your head on his lap and he just mindlessly draws little shapes on your shoulder - he also loves having you laying on top of him while y’all cuddle - it makes him feel safe (and he gets to steal soooo many kisses from you) - you’re kinda like his very own weighted blanket but not even because his spider strength makes you feel like a feather - but it’s also an easy way for him to keep a hold of you and feel like he’s protecting you - he also loves to take you web swinging - holding you super close and taking you to a tall building away from anyone who can see y’all - he loves that - sometimes he’ll have like a whole picnic type date set up and y’all will just have a cute lil date on the top of the one world trade center - he also loves having you over to his place - his parents love you - and you love them - they make him keep his door cracked when y’all are in there together but it’s mainly because they love to peek in and see their son so in love - Jefferson took like 74 pictures the first time he saw y’all napping together - And Rio took like 52 pictures when she caught the two of you on the roof of the building and he was playing you a playlist he made for you - he does that a lot but that was the first time Rio saw it - she was ecstatic lol - he occasionally will just poke you for no reason - and by occasionally i mean he does it constantly - “Miles? Why did you do that?” “Do what?” “I literally saw you poke me.” “No, I didn’t” “…” “…” “I did, you’re just so cute, I don’t know.” - he also loves drawing on your hand - the back of your hand has constant Miles doodles - sometimes it’s stuff like the two of your initals in a heart - sometimes it’s Spider-Man - sometimes it’s just whatever was on his mind - but you love your constant Miles hand drawings - and he feels like it’s some sort of way for other people to know you’re his - but when he does it it’s so cute - cause he’s so gentle - and no one is watching - but you’re sitting there and just smiling as he creates a work of art on your hand and the playlist he made full of songs that remind him of how you made him feel the first time he saw you is softly playing in the background - he calls them temporary tattoos and one day you’re going to actually get one of the doodles tattooed on you somewhere - he’ll probably have a heart attack from how much he loves it but hey that’s fine he’ll recover - speaking of he loves to draw with you - he doesn’t care about your skill level, he just loves to be creative with you - he also is very much all about making sure you’re eating - getting enough sleep - prioritizing yourself above everything else - and if anything is ever bothering you - he is There - he will always be there and it’s very comforting - he just wants you to be happy all the time and does his best to do so - and you feel the same - so any time the responsibility of Spider-Man is too much for him - or when his parents get on him because he’s hiding half of who he is - you’re there for him - often times after he comes home from a long day of Spider-Manning he’s the one who is being held, but you’re fine with that - cause he can be vulnerable with you and he needs it

overall

- Miles is getting the hang of being in a relationship - he really does love pda but is so bad at it lmao - when he gets better beware - you will be a melting mess in public all the time - but for right now it’s just behind the scenes where he’s able to show how he really feels - give him all the hugs he needs ‘em

#hobie brown hcs #hobie brown headcanons #hobie headcanons #hobie brown x reader #miles morales hcs #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #hobie brown #miles morales

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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago

Text

Number One Fan : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: the reveal of george’s relationship with one of the best footballers in the world

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 2,958,068 others

georgerussell63: such an honour to get to watch the lionesses for the very first time tonight, and see my girl out on the pitch, congratulations on a great win 🦁🦁🦁

178,493 comments

landonorris: can’t believe you went to the football and didn’t invite me 😭

username1: hope you had the best time george, the game was so good!

maxverstappen1: they can’t have been playing us if it was a good game for you guys, I bet we’d demolish you 😂

georgerussell63: @/maxverstappen1 trust me, these girls are unstoppable

username2: now wishing my dream to play for england actually came true 😭

lewishamilton: bracing myself to hear all about this at the office tomorrow

username3: how has it taken you this long to see just how talented this group of girls are??

lionesses: thank you for coming and supporting our team ❤️

georgerussell63: @/lionesses you girls were awesome, so glad to see it in person ❤️

username4: wait…everyone ignoring the part where he said watching his girl or just me 🤯

mercedesamgf1: mr wolff wants to remind you that work starts bright and early in the morning!

georgerussell63: @/mercedesamgf1 don’t you guys worry, I’ll be there!

username5: watch me stalk every player’s socials now to find out who it is 🏃🏻‍♀️

username6: I want to be mad but george and a footballer are such a good pairing 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: still waiting for you to actually explain the rules of football to me…

username7: bracing myself for the sexist comments to arrive and defend these girls with my honour 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alessia, leahwilliamsonn and 397,597 others

ynusername: last bit of recovery before we head into the build up for the euros. luckily for me I’ve got the best company to make sure I’m super relaxed 🥰☀️

48,361 comments

username8: yn you can’t just spring something like this on us…I wasn’t ready

alessia: can you stop making the rest of us feel extremely jealous please 😮‍💨

username9: can’t wait to see you absolutely smash it at the euros ⚽️

maryearps: can’t wait to reunite with you best friend 🙌🏻

ynusername: @/maryearps the only reason I agreed to play was secretly you!

username10: 🎶 it’s coming home it’s coming home 🎶

lionesses: we can’t wait to welcome you back to camp soon 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

ynusername: @/lionesses buzzing to be back and try and win this thing!

username11: whoever you are sir pls don’t lift our girl like that…we can’t afford any injuries now!!

landonorris: good luck yn, I know you girls will give it your all!

ynusername: @/landonorris thanks lan 🫶🏻🧡

username12: someone’s gotta be able to zoom in and figure out who this mystery man is 😧

alexgreenwood5: missed your beautiful face so much, it needs to spill all the gossip with me asap 😘

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 392,727 others

ynusername: apparently seeing as he came to my game I’ve got to come and see what he does too 😂 thank you mercedes for such an incredible day with you all 🩵

68,493 comments

username13: stfu please don’t tell me the mystery guy is actually THE george russell

georgerussell63: thank you for being here, hope you had the best time darling ✨

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 it was amazing!! who knew f1 was so much fun 🥳

username14: it was so obvious how did we not piece it together 🤦🏻‍♀️

jillscottjs8: I always told you you’d love f1 and you never believed me 😂 now you’re dating one of them 🤦🏻‍♀️

ynusername: @/jillscottjs8 turns out you might’ve been right all along 😔

username15: I can already tell these two are gonna make such a cute couple!!!!

lewishamilton: an absolute honour to meet you, good luck with the lionesses this summer ⚽️

username16: it’s adorable how supportive they are of each other’s careers 🥺

landonorris: smiling through the pain knowing you picked mercedes over mclaren 💔

ynusername: @/landonorris when george signs a contract with you I’ll be the first one over there 🧢

landonorris: @/ynusername when???? spill your secrets my friend 🫢

username17: can’t wait to enter football hooligan era george over the next couple of months 😂

mercedesamgf1: thank you for paying us a visit yn, you’re welcome back anytime 🩵

danielricciardo: still got no idea what football truly is, but it was so cool to hear all about what you do ☺️

username18: my heart is so full it could burst right now 💓💓

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,974,088 others

georgerussell63: saying goodbye to my favourite person in style before she heads off to the euros, good luck darling 🏆⚽️

284,073 comments

landonorris: you got this yn, bring football home ⚽️💪🏻

username19: okay well I’m now officially obsessed with these two 🤩

lilymhe: alex told me I’m an honorary brit in order to support you for the next four weeks

ynusername: @/lilymhe I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🫂

username20: george pretending to say goodbye like he’s not going to be at every single game

ynusername: thank you for the most beautiful couple of days, no better way to prepare for the tournament 💞

georgerussell63: @/ynusername you’ve got this, everyone’s behind you - especially me!

username21: have you ever seen two better matched people in your life???

carlossainz55: england are gonna win the euros there’s no doubt about it 🦁🦁🦁

carlossainz55: @/georgerussell63 george stole my phone during the parade and wrote that btw

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you mean to say you don’t want england to win? 😱

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you’re a close second behind spain I promise 🇪🇸⚽️

username22: I want to be heartbroken that I’ve lost my chance with george but damn yn is just stunning 🫠

alex_albon: go out there and smash it yn, just like you always tell me!

oscarpiastri: seeing as I have zero affiliation to europe I think this time I’m allowed to say that I’m rooting for you!!

username23: good luck yn, we’re all rooting for you 🎉

username24: can’t wait for all the football content we’re gonna get over the next month!!!

lewishamilton: have the best time yn, and make sure you score lots of goals 🥅

ynusername: @/lewishamilton I’ll try my best just for you ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maryearps, lucybronze and 428,497 others

ynusername: first couple of weeks and first couple of wins, trust me when I tell you this team is something special ✨🫶🏻

78,372 comments

chloekelly: so in love with what a superstar you are 🤩

username25: I heard the heart was a sign to george, someone pls tell me that’s true

username26: @/username25 it’s true!! someone on x said they saw george doing it back when she scored 🥺

username27: you’re doing amazing yn, let’s go all the way!

alex_albon: george has not stopped talking about how amazing you are at the paddock btw 😂

ynusername: @/alex_albon tell him to worry about the racing instead 🙄

landonorris: FOOTBALL’S COMING HOME 🎉🎉

ynusername: @/landonorris let’s not get too ahead of ourselves just yet lan 😂😂

username28: how does george ever get to a race with how often he’s in the stands cheering her on 😂

maryearps: have I mentioned recently how much I love playing with you???

ynusername: @/maryearps I love being on that pitch with you so much more!!

username29: you girls are smashing it, dare we say it’s coming home???

georgerussell63: keep pushing my love, you’re making everyone so proud 💕

username30: forever wishing I could be as cool as you…

lauren_hemp: in love with the fact I get to lineup with you, what a team 🤜🏻

ynusername: @/lauren_hemp the striker to my winger 🤛🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, ynusername and 3,017,492 others

georgerussell63: gutted I couldn’t be there in person but still making sure I support them all the way. onto the semis and I couldn’t be prouder of the girls (especially yn!) 🦁🦁🦁

284,507 comments

ynusername: I can’t believe you made the whole of silverstone watch 😂 you’re the best sweetheart

georgerussell63: @/ynusername wouldn’t have missed it for the world…and neither would thousands of others apparently 😂

username31: if anyone ever doubts george’s dedication to yn then just show them this post!!

lilymhe: never watched a game of football in my life until now…turns out it’s pretty cool when one of your best friends plays

username32: I love the fact he point blank refused to miss the game 👏🏻

oscarpiastri: beginning to see why you brits are so obsessed with football, I’m on tenterhooks watching this 😬

username33: loving that lewis joined him to cheer yn on too 🤩

lewishamilton: you were incredible tonight, good luck for the semi final, I’ll be watching 🙌🏻

ynusername: @/lewishamilton thank you so much for all your support!!

username34: the cheer of the crowd at that full time whistle made my heart swell 🥺

mercedesamgf1: wishing you all the best in the final stages yn, we know you and the girls can go all the way!

danielricciardo: no idea what’s going on, but you’re doing amazing yn!!

username35: thankful they’ve got a week off so george can keep supporting irl

landonorris: how does it feel to have a girlfriend that’s so much cooler than you???

georgerussell63: @/landonorris how does it feel to have a girlfriend…oh wait, nvm 🫢

landonorris: @/georgerussell63 low blow my friend 😭

username36: I’m so excited, don’t think I can wait three days for the semi final 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 429,716 others

ynusername: CHAMPIONS OF EUROPE 🏆⚽️💕

59,737 comments

georgerussell63: words will never do justice to tell how proud I am of you, my champion, always 💓

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 thank you for all your sacrifices over the past month, couldn’t do it without you ❤️

username37: so damn proud of you yn, you’ve been insane all tournament 👏🏻

lilymhe: I’m SO damn proud of you my girl 💪🏻

username38: it finally came home ⚽️🎉

landonorris: the best game of football ever, you’re a total legend my friend!!

ynusername: @/landonorris tysm for coming and cheering me on!

username39: I’ve not stopped crying since that goal went in, such a thrilling game ☺️

carlossainz55: my second favourite team (but favourite player!) are champions, felicidades mi amiga 🎉

username40: when the camera panned to george in the stands I swear I almost died

chloekelly: just two girls scoring in the final of the euros like it’s no big deal 🤩🤩

heidiberger_: when I next see you we’re celebrating this with sooooo many drinks 🥂

username41: george looked like the proudest man in the world omg

danielricciardo: congrats yn, you’re incredible!

maxverstappen1: so proud to call you a friend, good job out there ☺️

oscarpiastri: thank you so much for the invite, honoured to have been there and watched this in person!

username42: we all knew you could do it, champions of europe 💞💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,958,726 others

georgerussell63: celebrating you, my love. all the hard work has been worth it in the end, I couldn’t be prouder of you and the whole team for what you’ve achieved over this past month. can’t wait to have you all to myself again, ily 💞✨

329,271 comments

username43: can’t begin to imagine how proud you must be feeling rn george 🥺

leahwilliamsonn: it’s been amazing to have you alongside us during the past four weeks too george!!

landonorris: turns out you’ve got yourself a pretty cool girl there russell 👏🏻

georgerussell63: @/landonorris trust me I remind myself how lucky I am everyday!!

username44: in the future my partner better be as supportive of me as george is of yn…

oscarpiastri: hope you guys had the best night…you both deserve it 🍺

maxverstappen1: make sure you get yn a drink on me 😂

username45: seeing george’s feed has been the most adorable thing throughout this entire tournament

alessia: thank you for loving our girl as much as we do ❤️

username46: please don’t tell me this is gonna be the end of fangirl george now 😂

mercedesamgf1: admin reminder that yn might be done but we still have a season to finish!!

username47: the softest human being who ever existed 🥺

lionesses: we’ve loved having your support behind us all the way, thank you george ⚽️🦁

username48: manifesting to one day have a relationship as wholesome as this 🤞🏻

lewishamilton: can’t wait to see you guys and hear all about the final, we’re all so proud of you yn 🩵

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

691 notes · View notes

eddiesxangel · 8 months ago

Note

Your requests are open aaah 💕 OKAY this scenario for Eddie has been on my mind for a while - imagine hooking up with him (could either be a fuckboy or not) and you're worried you might turn him off when you're riding him because you easily get tired (and in past relationships you'd get criticized for it too because those jerks expected you to do all the work).

in the middle of it eddie can sense something wrong and at first you're hesitant to tell him then you eventually give in, scared he'll stop but Eddie just smiles and sweet and just says "well why didn't you say so sweetheart? hold on" and then suddenly he's wrapping his arms around your waist and thrust up into you like an animal and you get overwhelmed with pleasure and Eddie loves the little whimpers / sounds you're making as you bury your face into his neck 😏✨

-@/daisymunson (because sadly it's not my main huhu)

Sorry this took so long

Your chest was heaving as your poor legs have been working tirelessly to bounce on Eddie’s cock.

“Fuck baby, you like that don’t you, fucking so good” Eddie moaned “I’m going to call you my little bunny. Love hoping on my cock.”

He loved that you took charge that so far every time you’ve fucked, which was only three, you were on top. He could watch your tits bounce for him as your rode him, how your fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. How you would lean down into him to kiss which only made him slip in deeper.

You wanted to enjoy yourself, you loved the feeling of his cock brushing up against your inner walls but, god you were so tired.

The pain in your thighs was more intense than the feeling of Eddie inside of you. The only thing you could focus on was the burning in your thighs, you were worried you would cramp up if you kept going so you slowed down.

“What’s wrong? Are you not into this?” Eddie could see you were off in another world. You hadn’t been making as much eye contact, your face was scrunching up like you were in pain.

“No ,I am… it’s just” you trailed off with heavy breaths as you paused.

“Tell me” he squeezed the sides of your hips, only making your pussy clench down on him.

“My legs are tired…” you let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Baby why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought you’d be turned off if I made you do all that work…”

“Why the hell would I be turned off by that?” He guides your chin with a single finger to look at him.

Your eyes looked down as your face turned hot. The other men you’d been with expected you to be in top, so what would make Eddie any different?

“Because everyone else has…”

“Everyone else— who? what?" Eddie stumbled over his words. He was dumbfounded. "so you never had someone on top of you?!" he needed to clarify.

you shamefully shake your head no and eddie moves into action at lightning speed, flipping you on your back unexpectedly.

"now baby, you just lay there and look pretty. Let me do all of the work."

His hard cock re-enters you and at this angle he is so deep inside you let out a cry of pleasure.

Eddie's hips rut into you at a speed at which you could never gain while you were on top. The sensation was so overwhelming you lost yourself in the moment.

Your soft mewls quickly turned into long outwards moans of pleasure.

Eddie’s never see you so fucked out there was no way you were getting on top in a while if this is how he could make you feel.

His big hands were pressed to the backs of your plush thighs, pushing them as wide as you’re let them.

“Fuck you’re taking my cock so good baby, sucking me in so good it’s hard to pull out.” His eyes focused on the place where you connected. He loved seeing the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock with each thrust into you.

You were lost in the feeling, overpowered by what Eddie was able to give you. Was this the kind of sex you’re been missing out on? Being taken care of your partner. Yes it was.

Your body started to tighten as the impending orgasm was to wash over you. You felt light headed and the only thing you could focus on was how Eddie’s cock pounding inside your pussy. Your hands grabbed his back and your legs wrapped around him like a koala bear, pulling him closer and closer. You never wanted to disconnect your bodies after this.

“Eddie!” You screamed as your pussy clamped down on his cock and a rush of pleasure flowed through your body.

“Yea that’s it, fucking cum on my cock” his hips never slowed, the room was filled with the wet snaking sound of skin on skin. The room smelled of sex and sweat. Your haze never lifted until Eddie’s hips sputtered as he came.

You broke the minutes of silence of catching your breath.

“I didn’t know it could be like that”

“There are so many more positions I want you in baby we are just getting started.

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson request #eddie munson #tj’s mailbox #requests

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serpentandlily · 1 year ago

Text

Untouchable - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was twisting in your chest, a sick feeling curling in the pit of your stomach, as you hurried down the dimly lit hallways of the River House. You held a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break loose and the bile that stung the back of your throat. You could do it, you could hold it in. At least until you got back to your room. And then you’d be free to cry and cry and cry as much as you wanted to.

You had spent years trying to bury your feelings for the shadowsinger. What had started out as a harmless crush on your older brother’s friend when you were just a girl had blossomed into true, real feelings since you had come of age. But despite your best efforts, Azriel still never seemed to notice you. Not like that anyways.

Him and Cassian had adored you the moment you had entered their life as just a babe and the sister of their best friend. You had been born during a time of peace, decades after the war. The three of them had been nearing two-hundred. They had watched you grow into the female you were today. Had been there through your toughest years after watching your mother brutally murdered in front of you at the age of thirteen, barely saved before your own life was taken.

It was a good thing Rhys had become High Lord before the time you reached eighteen or your father would’ve had you married off, no doubt for some political alliance. You had hoped your brother would’ve given you a role in his court once you were of age but after almost losing you, he had become increasingly protective.

So instead of being sent on missions, or used as an emissary, you spent most of your time volunteering in Velaris—helping to build the sanctuary into what it was today. You had eventually stopped arguing with your brother to loosen up his hold on you when he had broken down crying in front of you simply at the thought of you never returning if he was to send you out in the world.

And how could you complain when Velaris had been your cage? So you learned to play your role, for him, for your brother. The pretty little sister of the High Lord. Never known for anything but your beauty. The beauty that had males sending your father marriage propositions since the age of ten.

But there had only ever been one person you wished would see you that way. And he never had. You had to watch him pine after your own cousin for centuries. Never once looking your way. You feared he’d only ever see you as that little girl—the one who used to climb all over them at the cabin, the one who had the three males wrapped around her finger since she had been born.

Only ever just a girl in his eyes.

And you had made peace with that, as much as it hurt to be looked over by the one person you wanted the most. It still bothered you to watch his eyes track Mor all the time, to stare at her in a way he would never look at you. You had made peace with that…until tonight.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t seen the shift in him when he started looking after the middle Archeron sister. You had once believed he only had eyes for Mor, and it had brought you some solace in knowing that might be the only reason he had never looked your way.

But then Elain showed up and those affections shifted from Mor to her. Suddenly he was always with her, spending hours in the gardens with Elain. Staring at her the way he would stare at Mor. Your heart had started crumbling all over again with the realization that he could move on from Mor, could fall for someone other than her—and it hadn’t been you.

You had left your bed chambers tonight to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you would’ve walked in on. You had smelt them before you opened the doors. Azriel’s cedar and night-chilled mist and Elain’s sweet jasmine and honey.

You should’ve left then but something had compelled you to open the kitchen doors just a hair.

And there they were. Elain seated on the counter, Azriel between her legs. Her skirt has been pushed up to her thighs, his hands tangled in her hair, as they kissed like two starved animals.

You were lucky you had spent years learning how to keep a strong mask like your brother, for it allowed you to slip away without them ever noticing you.

You finally made it to your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You were grateful for the sound wards you had put up because the minute you stepped over that threshold you collapsed into a heap on the floor as heart-wrenching sobs erupted from your lips.

It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a million knives, like someone had gutted you and twisted your insides. It hurt so much to think that Azriel would never want you the way you wanted him. He didn’t want you. He didn’t crave your presence the way you did his. He didn’t want to touch you the way you wanted to touch him. He just didn’t want you.

And he never would.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Send me somewhere,” you said, pressing your palms onto your brother’s desk as you stared at him right in the eyes—the eyes you shared. “Anywhere, I don’t care. Just send me somewhere.”

Rhys frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “What has gotten into you? Did something happen?”

You let out a sigh, collapsing in one of the armchairs. You couldn’t tell him the real reason you wanted to leave. It was embarrassing. “Nothing happened. I’m just…tired of being cooped up here. Please, Rhys. It doesn’t even have to be far—just please.”

“Where is this coming from, y/n? You haven’t asked this in years. I thought you were happy here.”

“I am happy here. But I want to see the world, Rhys. And we’re finally in a time of peace. So let me, please.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, taking in your appearance. The slightly swollen eyes, the dark circles, the haphazard way you had braided your hair this morning. “Did…did someone hurt you? Did someone do something to you?”

“What? No!” A lie of course. But what could you say? Azriel had hurt you but it wasn’t like it was his fault. It wasn’t like he owed you anything.

“You know you can always talk to me about anything. Right, dove?” The use of his nickname for you nearly caused the tears you were fighting back to escape.

“Of course, Rhys. But I promise you. No one did anything to me. Please. The war is finally over and I think I’ve spent enough of my life here. I want to see what the rest of the world has to offer.”

Rhys’s head fell in his hands. “I-I don’t think I can let you go, dove. I’m sorry but I can’t bear it…I can’t bear not having you here where I can protect you.”

“It’s not fair!” You shouted, standing up. “I’m not a child anymore—I’m nearly three hundred years old for Gods sake! I’m suffocating here, Rhysie. Please.”

“Rhys,” Feyre said softly, placing a tattooed hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time you let y/n make her own choices. You promised me you’d always give me a choice—would always let me decide what to do with my life. Why can’t that apply to your sister?”

You shot her a grateful look, hoping she would make him see reason. Rhys stayed silent and you knew he had been struck by her words. “I can go to Mor, on the continent. Then you don’t have to worry about me being alone. I can help her try to form alliances there.”

Still he said nothing but judging by Feyre’s narrowed eyes, you could tell they were having an argument mentally. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress, wishing that he would listen to his mate about this. If anyone could talk Rhys into something, it was her.

It felt like an eternity went by before your brother finally looked up at you. His eyes were full of sadness and guilt and you knew in that moment, you had won.

“Fine, fine. But you will go to Mor in Vallahan and stay with her the whole time. You will listen to her at all times and never go anywhere alone. And you will write me twice a week,” Rhys growled. “And I swear, y/n, if you even miss one letter, I will come get you myself. Those are my rules—take it or leave it.”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face as you jumped to your feet and ran around the desk to embrace your brother in your arms. “Thank you, Rhys! Thank you! I promise I’ll do as you say. I promise.”

He held you tightly as if he never wanted to let go and you peered at Feyre from over his shoulders to mouth her a small ‘thank you’.

This was it. You’d finally be able to leave this city after three hundred years. Finally see the world! And most importantly: be far, far away from the shadowsinger that had won your heart but fallen for another.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Three months went by in the blink of an eye. You had spent the entire time traveling with Mor from Vallahan to Montesere, where you two had just settled down when Rhys had contacted you both, asking for your return home. Apparently he had big news to share but he wanted to do it in person. So now you were packing up your things, getting ready to return back to Velaris for the first time since you had left.

It had been annoying how much you thought of Azriel still. But it was getting easier to ignore the longer you were away. You hoped those feelings would eventually disappear entirely—but every time you thought of moving on, something in your chest would ache and ache.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t taken lovers in your time here. It had always been hard to find males to mess around with in Velaris considering they all knew who your brother was. The last thing they wanted was for Rhys to come looking for them after sleeping with you. So you’d only taken a few lovers here and there throughout the years.

But on the continent, no one knew who you were. Had no idea that you were the younger sister of one of Prythian’s High Lords. And Mor had been sure to teach you all the ways to have someone wrapped around your finger. You had never felt so confident in yourself as you did now. Finally becoming the female you wanted to be without your brother or the two other bats watching you over your shoulder. It was exhilarating.

But the thought of returning home had dampened some of your newfound joy. You were worried about slipping into your old role—being that sweet, pretty, little accessory they all expected you to be.

You wouldn’t allow that. You couldn’t. Not after having a taste of what it could be like if you became the female you always dreamed you’d be. Someone who knew she was desired for more than just her looks. Someone interesting. Someone smart and witty. Someone brave. You tried to ignore the part of you that hoped Azriel might see those things in you now.

“Are you ready to go, y/n?” Mor asked, leaning against the doorframe of your room.

You took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror. You were wearing a dress that was typical of what they wore here in Montesere. If you could even call it a dress. It was white, the bodice dipping into a v-shape and clinging to your body with gold embellishments and blue gems decorating it. It had long sleeves that connected to a hood, stitched in glimmering gold. It cut off right under your breasts, exposing your toned stomach until just slightly passed your belly button.

The skirt was held up by two thin gold straps that criss-crossed over the sides of your hips to connect it to the top part of the dress. The skirt itself traveled to the floor and had two long slits on either side to show off your legs. The white color complimented your tanned skin and the kohl you had lined your eyes with made the violet color of your eyes glimmer even brighter.

You had left your hair down in soft curls, only pinning back two strands on either side of your face with some gold pins. More than happy with the way you looked, you turned back to Mor with a grin.

“I’m ready to go home.”

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #angst #rhysand sister #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #shadowsinger x reader #acosf #post war

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itsgivingmami · 2 months ago

Text

Wait For Me- Rhea Ripley

Summary: “you’re being stalked?” Rheas hand came over her mouth as she tilted her head back, you can hear the heavy breath of air she takes in, a move you know all too well. She’s pissed.

“It’s really not that bad,” you reason trying to placate the anger coursing through her which based on the heavy eye contact she was holding was not the best response.

WC: 2048

Warnings: stalking, panic attacks

I didn’t proof read this, and homies, I don’t feel like it.✨

With the scraping sound of the chair against hardwood you grimaced, immediately regretting the words that had just come out of your mouth. Your breathing picked up as you heard her foot steps, and you leaned further into the counter, relying on it to keep you steady. “Stalked?!”

All things considered, she was taking this pretty well. You had already cleared the plates and cutlery from the table and made a quick excuse of refilling her wine glass, trying to remove any breakables before telling her. You had planned to move you both to the couch and have a level headed conversation but at the last moment your anxiety got the better of you and you had casually thrown out from the kitchen that your last date had been sending you pictures of yourself from a distance.

“You’re being stalked?!” She asks again coming around the corner to the kitchen, you feel like a deer in headlights seeing the concerned expression painting her face as she walks up to you. “How long?”

“Since we went out,” your voice is taut and trying not to think about them messages since they’ve been coming does little to take the fear away. “I said no to a second date and they started the next morning,”

Rheas hand came over her mouth as she tilted her head back, you can hear the heavy breath of air she takes in, a move you know all too well. She’s fucking pissed.

“It’s really not that bad,” you reason trying to placate the anger coursing through her which based on the heavy eye contact she was holding was not the best response.

“Not that bad?” She spits and spins away from you, beginning to pace. Her fists are clenching and your instinct is to reach for them so she doesn’t leave bloody crescents in her palms, but her tone makes you still. “Not that fucking bad?! Let me see,”

She’s getting louder and you feel mute. You turn your head to beside the stove where your phone sits next to the bottle of wine you’d been sharing. Rhea wastes no time walking over and unlocking it, you had never hidden things from each other, and opened the messages.

“Rhea,” you try again, voice shaking as you watch your friend silently seethe as she scrolls. “I’m sorry I should’ve-“

“No,” she stops you, she locks your phone and places it back down. “I’m not mad at you I’m livid at the bastard following you everywhere,” you can see her getting worked up thinking about it and even though it makes your heart flutter you also want to vomit. Her saying it all out loud makes it feel more real. Oh god.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper and she finally looks at you, dejected and outraged to find your eyes filling with tears and chest heavy. Rhea makes her way over to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’re going to pack a bag,” she answers and you pull back to look at her confused. “You’ll stay with me and my scary dogs, I’ll go with you wherever just don’t go alone,”

“There’s going to be pictures everywhere and your fans,” you panic, “everyone will think we’re dating,”

She pulls you towards your bedroom, intent to get you some place that fucker didn’t know. Your world is spinning and you get vertigo on the stairs, watching her pull your gym bag from the arm chair and empty it, moving to put clothing from your dresser into it. She’s conscious to grab your favourites and if you weren’t freaking the fuck out you might even blush.

“Rhea!” You cry, not being able to handle the weight anymore and she stops, staring at you with a sweater in hand. “Everyone is going to-“

“I don’t fucking care!” Her exasperated tone feels like a punch in the gut, “in fact let them think bloody whatever, at least then that guy will know you’re uninterested,”

You’re silent and for a moment Rheas worried she’s gone too far, but there’s something about the thought of you in danger that makes her heart plummet. You abandon her alone in your bedroom and she’s stuck in her spot holding your bag, trying to figure out what to do. Her relief is almost palpable when you come back in with toiletries and drop them into the bag and grab your wallet from the dresser.

“I think that’s it,” you murmur scanning the room, the sound of Rhea zipping up your bag in the back and you turn to her as she throws the strap over her shoulder and holds her hand out to you.

“Cmon” you flick the light switch as you leave and lock the front door. She holds open the passenger side of her truck gently helping you into the seat. The feeling of being watched returns to you like it had been every time you left the house for the last week. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin and the seconds it takes for Rhea to run around the car and get in the drivers seat feels like an eternity.

It’s only when your blocks away from your home at a red light that you finally feel the tension in your body release. You look over to Rhea, her face painting in a glowing hue and she stares forward. She feels your eyes and looks over, her hand squeezes yours and you relax.

“I’ll keep ya safe you know that right?” It’s rhetorical because… of course she will, that’s why you told her but it’s a welcomed reminder. Safety wasn’t something you had felt much of recently, but with Rhea it was different. Everything was different.

It’s three days later that you’re sitting with Zelina backstage watching Rhea’s match. The night after you left your house to stay with Rhea countless pictures of her escorting you through the building and parking garage were flooded to your phone and then silence. Rhea tried to reassure that it was probably just him backing down, especially after the internet had gotten hold of photos of the two of you holding hands. You had gone from her widely accepted best friend to assumed lovers in less than forty-eight hours.

“She won,” Zelina nudged your arm beside you and you looked up to the screen, smiling watching Rhea haul her title above her head.

“I think I’m going to wait for her in the dressing room,” you say a yawn cutting through, Zelina raises a brow and crosses her arms.

“She asked us to stay until she was back,” you sighed and looked around and multiples of staff and wrestlers. Surely of all places to be here would be safe.

“I’ve got a headache Zee,” you bargain rubbing your temple, “it’s so loud in here and she’ll be there in less than ten minutes,”

“I’ll come with you,” she tried but you shake your head and place your arms out to stop her,

“You’re up soon just let her know when you she comes in yeah?” You plead, and begrudgingly she agrees watching you walk towards the dressing rooms. You’re just out of sight before a stage hand comes running up to her, rambling about running early and that she needed to go now. She looks for Rhea desperately but doesn’t get the chance before she’s pulled away towards another entrance.

“Fuck,” Rhea grunts as she runs through back stage looking for any sign of you, she can hear the music and chants for the LWO in the arena and she starts running a little faster as she realises that wherever you are you’re alone. She hits your contact and her phone dials and she presses it up to her ear ignoring congratulations as she goes. Your phone rings out and she hangs up immediately trying again.

She bursts into her dressing room door to grab her keys to check the truck, the sound wakes you and you startle in the arm chair in the corner. You and Rhea stare at each other as she slowly removes her phone from her ear and hangs up.

“Have you been here the whole time?” She asks walking towards you, kneeling in front of the arm chair. Her grip on your leg is tight like she’s worried you’ll disappear again. You nod and she deflates letting her forehead rest against your knee. “You were supposed to wait for me,”

“I was,” you say, your hand strokes her shoulder, “just in here,” her head raises to look at you, teary blue eyes and her lip caught it her teeth. The hand on your leg pulls you towards her and off the chair onto the floor desperate to get you as close as possible. You can barely breathe pressed against her body and straddling her lap.

“I didn’t know where you were,” her hands come up to hold your shoulders while she speaks. “You weren’t answering your phone and I thought-“ there’s a strained sound that comes out as the thoughts that were running through her mind come back. “Don’t do that again, please,” she begs and you’re silent not believing that Rhea Ripley would beg anyone for anything. When you don’t answer her she swallows and moves her hands to the sides of your face.

“I won’t,” you say, and although your voice is shaky she knows you mean it. “I’m sorry I worried you,”

“Worried? Fuck you scared the living shit out of me, that was the longest fifteen minutes of my life I…” she breaks eye contact to look at how close you two are and despite it still needs you closer “I couldn’t stand it I can’t lose you,” her anxiety doesn’t seem to be resolving despite that fact that you’re alive and well in her lap. “I can’t,”

She’s descending into a panic attack, her breathing becoming shallow. The teary eyes that were once staring into your own were starting to stare through you.

“Hey hey I’m okay,” you try, placing your hand ontop of the one on your cheek, you try the other on her chest trying to get her to slow her breathing, at this rate she’s going to pass out. Maybe not the wisest way to stop a panic attack but your lips are on hers before you fully think it through.

She’s stiff for a moment, her brain slowing as your lips move against hers. You feel her grip tighten on your jeans as she kisses you back, one hand running up your back to pull you closer as if there was any space left. You don’t pull away until your lungs burn, gently separating your lips while keeping your forehead pressed against hers.

“You back with me?” You ask, your two bodies so close you’re breathing each others air. Rhea tucks some loose hair behind your ear and move to hold your jaw.

“I’m with you sweet girl,” she sighs, her thumb runs over your bottom lip. “You’re with me”

Barry and Luna come running to the door as you step in and greet them, Rhea closing the door behind you. It’s almost one in the morning and you let out a yawn.

“Want me to help you unpack our bag?” You ask although you can feel your eyelids are heavy, struggling to reopen them when you blink. Rhea dumps it on table before turning back to you, slipping your jacket down your arms.

“We’ll do it in the morning,” she explains, hanging your jacket and her own in the closet. “Let’s go to bed,”

Rheas was a brilliant woman you decide as she wraps an arm around your waist to walk upstairs to bed, abandoning that chore till the sun was back up. There were somethings that could be dealt with later, eventually you’ll have to have a conversation about your kiss and the changes it’s made, but for now you’re both content to just be with one another. You both are already in her bedroom when your phone buzzes in the mesh pocket of the gym bag down stairs. You’re both ignorant to the new message waiting for you as you lay in her arms safely and you’re glad you don’t hear it. The photo of you sleeping alone in the dressing room definitely would’ve been a mood killer.

Part two out now!! Read here. https://www.tumblr.com/itsgivingmami/769984180005355520/part-2-of-wait-for-me-plz-we-need-it

#rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley x reader #mami rhea #wwe raw #wwe one shot #wwe #rhea ripley #rhea ripley fluff #Rhea Ripley x y/n #rhea ripley x oc #rhea ripley fanfiction #one shot #rhea ripley angst #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley x fem reader

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skylarsblue · 2 years ago

Text

✦Even. More. Incorrect C.o.D Quotes.✦

Y/N, pinning Soap’s arms with their thighs in sparring: Haha! Eat shit, Scotsman! Soap, struggling: FUCKIN’ ‘ELL, The hell is in your thighs?! Y/N: Pure spite and protein, bitch! --

Someone: Hey Johnny. Y/N: Oh, no, only Ghost can- Soap: Oi! Only Y/N & Ghost can pull that off, it’s Soap to you. Y/N: Yeah he- wait me too? *gaaassp* Ohhh is this what favoritism feels like?! Soap: Pfft, maybe! Y/N: I enjoy it a lot! <3

-- American!Y/N: Fuckin’ git, he’s off his rocker, that one. The entire team: … American!Y/N: *dramatically smacks their hand over their mouth* Gaz: *laughing* Was that genuine?! Y/N: AH, I’ve been conditioned! I’ve been colonized! Soap: COLONI-*WHEEZE*

-- Fem Fatal!Y/N: What th- what is this, a spy movie? You want me to infiltrate by being some eye candy?! Laswell: It’s the best option we have. Ghost: I disagree with this. Soap: Me too! This feels real nasty, I think. Fem Fatal!Y/N: *sigh* Fine, I’ll do it. God gave me these tits for a reason, might as well use’em for somethin’. Gaz: PFF-no no, don’t be funny, this is a bad situation.

-- Graves: No! You can’t, cause if you take it- …you’ll be hurting my feelings :((( Ghost: You know, I was thinking about that. And, the thing is…I really don’t care.

-- (In a ride back to base; just makin’ conversation)

Gaz: Do you find boys attractive? Or girls. That’s one what to check, if you’re not sure. Y/N: *chuckles* You think I’m not sure? Y/N: Everyone’s attractive to be honest, even if it’s just something small. Like, some people have really gorgeous hands. Y/N: I don’t know…I’m a little bit in love with everyone I meet. But I think that’s normal. Gaz: …hm, suppose that’s a fair answer…

-- Soap, laughing: You watch it or might just start fallin’ for ya, L.T! Ghost: …would you like to? Soap: Eh-…huh? Simon: Would you like to? Fall in love with me, I mean… Soap: ….well I-…well, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…if you’d let me. Simon: …I’d let you. Soap: Well then, guess that’s it then. Woo me, Si. Simon: I’ll do my best.

-- Someone: I don't need advice from a team of virgin losers. Y/N: VIRGIN LOSERS?! *grabs Price’s shoulder and motions to him aggressively* You gonna tell me you think this man doesn’t fuck for a living?! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?! Gaz & Soap: *for the millionth time trying not to laugh* Price: *he’s not encouraging it but he does look kinda smug*

-- Gaz, on TikTok: Everyone’s always like “Kyle how’d you bag a baddie, how’d you bag that baddie bruh-“ I didn’t bag shit. Y/N picked me up from my neck, threw me over their shoulder and I’ve been on it ever since. (Zooms out to show that he is in fact, on their shoulder) Gaz: And I ain’t got no plans on getting off anytime soon-

(This also works with Soap & Ghost)

-- Y/N: Why’s it always you got mommy issues or you got daddy issues? Me personally? Both my parents got me messed up, the side I pick? Is mine. I ain’t Hannah Montana- Y/N: 🎶but I got the best of both worlds!~🎵 Ghost: *he’s laughing on the inside, I swear*

-- Ghost, on the verge of dissociating: Why be sad…when you can just be ✨g o n e✨ Soap: Si, no-

-- Graves: Punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me? Y/N: I always hear “punch me in the face” when you speak, but it’s usually subtext. Graves: *huff* Well I- *gets punched so hard he falls over* Y/N: ….that felt good. Ghost: I’m so proud- Price: Stop encouraging them.

-- Soap, bursting into the briefing room: Y/N got into a fight! (Insert running scene) Price: Soldier, what hap- Ghost, sliding up in front of them: Did you win? Y/N: Of course I won. Ghost: Nice. Price: STOP ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE-

-- Y/N, in a vent above a room: Soap, it’s me, the devil! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: *trying so hard not to laugh* Y/N: I’m here to convince you to do SIN. Come with me. Steal candy from babies and from small businesses! Soap: *WHEEZE*

-- Y/N, passing by: *does that super flirty “up & down” look* Hey König…~ König: Hallo, guten morgen. Y/N: *smiles and keeps going* König, as soon as they’re gone: *deep breath* Ohmeingottohmeingott *tiny scream*

-- Ghost after being asked about his feelings on Soap: *heavy breathing* ……..nextquestion-

-- Gaz, a menace on TikTok: Batches be on the lookout for Captain Save-A-Hoe, cause he savin’ hoes. Price, minding his business: ? Y/N, dramatically “swooning” in the background: I WANNA BE SAAAAAVED *falls* Price, unaware he’s having a thirst trap made for him: ?????

-- (I think bullying Graves is funny)

Graves: Let me tell you how this is gonna work- Y/N: You ain’t gonna tell me shit. Graves: Listen!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Listen to me!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Shut up, listen to me! Y/N: Suck my dick, you fuck man. Graves: Listen!! Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: You will be here and listen to my ord- Y/N: You’ll be here sucking my dick. Graves: Listen to me, now! Y/N: Go fuck yourself.

-- Y/N: I would rather lead my team into a pit of fire, than have them wield guns for your ignorant usurper cunt of a general. Price: *mans is so proud it’s showing in his chops*

-- Simon: Your eyes are like sapphires…jeez…ahem, that’s pretty corny though, huh? Soap, swooning: No, not at all. Anyone would like it…aha… Simon: …uh…is this- Soap: Working? Oh yeah, thoroughly wooed, sir. Simon: Good, good.

-- Price: Please tell me you didn’t drag the boys into this. Y/N: I didn’t drag Soap & Gaz into this! *insert banging on door* Price: Who is that? Y/N: I think you know.

-- Soap: I wouldn’t wish that ‘pon my worst enemy. Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ ‘bout my enemy Philip Graves. Soap: Fuck you, Phillip(/neg), you know what you did.

-- Gaz: So you have feelings for this person. Just rip the bandaid off. Y/N, with daddy issues: It’s Price. Gaz: *inhales through his teeth* Put the bandaid back on.

-- Y/N: …Ghost? You’re into Ghost? Soap: Mhm…thoughts? Y/N: And prayers, Johnny. And prayers.

-- Gaz: Are you straight? Y/N: *chokes on drink* Don’t ever fucking insult me like that ever again.

-- (Some type of escort mission or somethin’)

Price: This woman wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail. Fem!Y/N: Honestly, you lot have to be the most boorish, crude, pig-headed men I’ve ever met. Price: Hey, I’ve seen the high-bred boys you’ve hung out with, princess. I’m the only man you’ve ever met.

(Insert overly intense sexual tension here)

-- König: How does that even make any- *knife sound* König: *looks down at the knife in his thigh* Did you just- *takes knife out* Did you just stab me? What is your problem?!

-- (I’m only using Alejandro cause the dude in the audio had a slight Spanish accent, mans is definitely a feminist)

Alejandro: It’s not natural for girls to fight. Fem!Y/N: Now it’s not natural for a man to be as stupid as he is tall, but mm. Here you stand! Alejandro, in love: …

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moeitsu · 5 months ago

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heyyy, I absolutely love ur fics and hcs...I was wondering if u will be willing to write smth fluffy abt logan...

Like they have been good friends for awhile and both of them have been pinning for each other...but the reader thinks he still loves jean...

And they've an argument Abt smth before a mission and obv reader gets injured...but someone else saves her and he doesn't get to meet her and when she recovers she avoids him .....

Smth like thiss...plss....❤️✨

The miscommunication trope is a tough one for me, but I hope I did alright! Thanks for being my first request!

"You're the only one for me" Logan Howlett x Reader

wc: 1k warnings: none Lots of fluff and feels at the end :)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A jealous itch runs up your spine as you see Logan across the room, smiling at her the same way he smiles at you. Jean Grey. Everyone in the mansion knows about their history, about Logan’s long, unrequited love for her.

Despite her loyalty to Scott, Logan couldn’t help but fall for the beautiful, fiery redhead. But that was before you came along.

Logan and you have always had a deep, unspoken understanding. From the very first day you met, there was something electric between you, something unnameable but undeniably there.

A glance across the room was all it took to communicate. And yet, there was always something more, lingering beneath the surface, something neither of you were brave enough to say out loud.

Late nights under the stars became your shared solace. You’d sit side by side, talking about everything and nothing, as the night stretched on. Logan listened to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world.

Those quiet moments, with the world asleep around you, were what he treasured most. But he never told you that.

He never told you how those talks meant more to him than any battle he’d ever won.

Logan isn’t one for grand gestures, but you noticed the small things. How his hand would linger when he handed you a cup of coffee, the way he instinctively stepped closer when the room got too crowded, or how his arm would sometimes brush against yours when you walked side by side.

These moments made your heart race, but just as you thought there might be something more, you’d catch him with Jean, and the doubts would creep in.

Oh, how he wished he had the courage to tell you how he felt. But the pain of rejection haunted him. The fear of opening his heart, only to have it shattered again, quieted him into submission.

So, he stayed silent, letting the tension build between you, even as he longed to close the gap.

But you were growing tired of the mind games. His feelings for you seemed as real as the ground beneath your feet, as the air in your lungs. He must feel the same way, you told yourself.

But then, there he was, spending time with Jean, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had it all wrong.

The tension finally boiled over before a big mission. The argument was sharp, words cutting deeper than any blade.

“Just go back to Jean!” you snapped, frustration and hurt lacing your voice.

Logan’s eyes widened, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You think I—” he started, but the words stumbled. He tried to deny it, but his voice failed him, the weight of unspoken truths holding him back.

You both stormed off, leaving the air between you crackling with unresolved tension.

The mission was a blur of chaos, and then—disaster.

You were injured, and it was serious. Logan’s heart stopped when he heard. He fought through enemies with a ferocity that terrified even his allies, desperate to reach you. But before he could get to you, someone else did, pulling you to safety.

The relief was brief, overshadowed by guilt and frustration. He should have been there. He should have protected you. As he watched you being carried away, unconscious and bleeding, he made a vow—he would never let that happen again.

When you recovered, the physical wounds healed faster than the emotional ones. You avoided Logan, convinced that his heart still belonged to someone else, that your feelings were nothing but wishful thinking.

Better to rip the band-aid off now, you thought, than suffer more heartbreak later.

Logan noticed the distance immediately. It gnawed at him, a constant ache in his chest. You had always come to him when there was trouble, when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you just needed someone to sit with you in silence.

But now, you turned away, leaving him feeling helpless and lost.

He asked others about your condition, made sure you were okay in his own quiet way, even sat outside your room at night, listening to your breathing just to make sure you were sleeping. But the distance between you felt like an unbridgeable valley.

The tension finally became too much to bear. Logan couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

One night, he cornered you—gentle but firm, his voice low and rough. “Jean will always be a part of my past,” he said, his words heavy with truth, “but you… you’re my present, my future. I’ve been afraid of screwing this up, of losing what we have, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. You're the only one for me, and I’m not letting you slip away.”

You were stunned, tears welling up as you realized how wrong you’d been.

“I thought… I was so afraid that…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Logan stepped closer, his rough hand brushing against your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain.

The confession hung between you, fragile but true. And then, slowly, Logan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was long overdue.

It was slow, tender, filled with all the emotions you’d both kept bottled up for too long. When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes soft and full of affection.

“You’re the only one for me,” he repeated with a whisper, his voice rough but sincere.

After that night, everything changed. The tension that had once thickened the air melted away, replaced by a quiet, comfortable closeness.

Logan became more open with his affection—small touches, lingering looks, and a new ease in your interactions. You both felt the relief of finally being on the same page, of knowing that the unspoken feelings were now shared and mutual.

Logan made sure you never doubted his feelings again. He talked more, shared more of himself, making it clear that you were the most important person in his life.

Jean was a part of his past, but you were his future, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

Thanks for requesting this!!

I hope I did it some justice. I love Jean Grey and I tried my best not to paint her in a bad light. But I know everyone's a sucker for a good love triangle hehe

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #logan howlett xmen #hugh jackman wolverine #wolverine x reader #send requests #writing requests

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knavesflames · 5 months ago

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hi el :) imagine arle getting frustrated w reader and grabs her by the throat, harder than she intended to, but then reader enjoys it

mhm I think that could be fun

something something hands something something fingering

Yeah gotta be about the hands I just know you love hands so much

Hello >:) I do love her hands you’re so correct about that. I spent today writing this and at some point I just brain rotted completely and zoned out for a bit but!! Here you go. If she doesn’t do this to me, I will burn the world down <3 /j feel free to have an emoji if you’d like✨

Word count: 2119

Content: reader likes fingers, bratty reader, fem!reader, fingering, asphyxiation (consensual obviously), fingers in mouth, hand over mouth.. you know.

A/N: I tried without using the red colour for Arlecchino. I used it only so I could differentiate between reader and her, but I’m unsure if you guys enjoy it or not. Let me know<3

Nsft utc!

Her hands were the first thing that drew you to her, if you’re honest with yourself. You remember hearing the way her nails drummed against the surface of the counter as she waited for her coffee (double espresso. That’s it. Nothing else). The sound annoyed you, and you remember the way your eyes scanned for the perpetrator so you could politely ask them to stop. You never said anything.

Your eyes had locked onto her hands and you were admiring scrutinising each centimetre of skin. Blackened, though they were, they were slender, and her fingers were long. Even without the nails that looked like they’d scratch out an eye with ease, they were elegant, fitting for a woman of her stature.

Now of course, Arlecchino was no fool. She was plenty aware of what you were staring at, no matter how much you were trying to hide it. She found it endearing, really. How quickly you focused on them, how your breathing got just a little deeper. She liked it, and she liked you. Not just because of this, of course, she’d had her eye on you for a while, but the fact you’d made it clear that you liked her too.. A woman like her gets what she wants, especially when what she wants, wants her.

A relationship quickly formed. It seemed you both fit together quite nicely, despite her cold, closed off nature. It was quite a sweet relationship, apart from the fact that you could be a total brat when she needs it the least. How many punishments would she have to give before you learned? Or, perhaps, you quite liked them. Especially when she used her hands and her fingers.

From the way you watched her fist the base of her favourite strap, to the way you mewled when her fingers curled inside of you, you were both very very much aware of the fact that it was her hands that were the thing that got you off more than anything else. You were both very very much aware that she used that to her advantage.

One day, she was lucky enough to work from home. A rare occurrence, but one she treasures. She does not have to don the suit she wears in public, she can give her feet a much needed rest from the stilettos she refuses to leave the house without. Instead, her outfit is.. almost casual. It’s a nice change, you think. She looks like husband material. You’d never say that. Instead, you decide today is the perfect time to annoy her until you get what you want! Of course you do, you’re just a little slut for her and her hands :(

Your arm snakes over her chest as you stand behind her, your words drawn out and pleading. “Peruere,” you whine, “take a break.”

“I cannot. You know this.” Comes the firm reply. You know this, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It makes you more determined, though. Arlecchino should have known. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of her loose shirt, and your lips kiss the shell of her ear. Arlecchino sighs, her eyes raising from the paper that sits on her desk. Her hand gently slaps your own away, and her voice comes out just a little sharper.

“No. Not right now. Do not be a brat.” It’s a warning, a warning you don’t listen to. “Peruere, I’m wearing the set you like.” Her jaw feathers at that. She’s unsure if it’s the image you’ve set in her mind or the way you say her name, her real name. It’s her weakness, but currently, you’re frustrating her. Beyond belief. And the second you moan into her ear, a fake, airy moan, she loses any control she had.

She spins her chair around, stands up, and pushes you against the nearest wall. Her hands wrap around your throat, and she does not squeeze, but she could. She has. You pretend you don’t like it, but she knows, from experience, the way that your underwear is practically unwearable after thirty seconds. You get so wet for her and she loves it. Her fingers twitch and her thumb strokes your windpipe, just to see the reaction it elicits from you.

“Do you enjoy breathing?” She murmurs, her voice low and soft, a contrast to the way she just slammed you against the wall. When you only smile widely in response, her grip tightens, just enough for you to lose your breath. “Not so much, then.” Arlecchino has a tendency to muse to herself when she renders you incapable of speaking. She does it purely to mock you, to remind you of the fact that she is the one in control, no matter how bratty you can get. When you attempt to reply, and the only thing you can manage is a strangled whisper of her name, full of want, she tightens until your breath stops. She waits, timing the seconds in her head until she knows your vision blurs just a little before her grip relents.

She watches as you gasp for breath and moan at the rush of oxygen, your eyes glassy. (She wouldn’t do it if you didn’t like it, but she vividly remembers the time you asked for it. You tap thrice if it’s too much). “Not so talkative now, are you?”

When you catch your breath enough to speak, she realises your few seconds of breathlessness was not enough. “Perhaps I don’t want to talk.” Your smirk is infuriating, infuriating enough that she scoffs.

“Wanted my full attention, did you?” (Sorry I couldn’t help myself putting her voiceline in there). You shrug, pretending like you really don’t care at all, but when her hand travels down from your throat, nails grazing your perked up nipple that begs to be freed from the restraints of your bra, she knows that your words are complete bullshit.

“You’re a liar. I dislike liars. I can only assume you’re dripping for me, like you usually are.” Arlecchino hisses. She’s annoyed, you can tell that much, because she knows the work she was supposed to do today is forgotten. It always is when you act like this. Her hand leaves your nipple, trailing down your stomach until her nails dip into the waistband of your underwear. You’re lucky enough that she’s filed three of them, just for the days she decides that she doesn’t want you to clench around her strap, but instead, she wants to feel the way her fingers pull orgasm after orgasm out of you until you can’t form any words.

When her digits graze your folds and she feels how wet you are without even properly sliding her fingers into your slit, she huffs, her words full of arrogance. “You’re fucking soaked. Over some choking? You’re a good little slut aren’t you?”

You’re already melting at her words alone. The tone of her voice, the way she says such dirty words so softly. It almost makes you think she’ll give you mercy. She will not, not now. She notes the way your breathing, now that you’ve caught your breath, has sped in anticipation. Her digits graze over your sensitive skin, touching everywhere but the one place you need it the most. Her intention is to make you beg, you’ve realised, but you’re adamant that you won’t.

When she realises her current tactic won’t work, she lets her finger give a single tap to your aching, puffy clit. It’s enough for a jolt of pleasure to shoot through your body, your lips parting in a small gasp. She taps again, and once more before she rests her finger there, and doesn’t move it. She watches with amusement as you clumsily grind your hips in an attempt to get friction and sensation, her finger only moving away any time you get even the slightest chance.

“I didn’t say you could do that, did I? Are you really so mindlessly needy that you disobey me?” Her voice only serves to make you more desperate, and your arm shoots out. Your hand grips her wrist in an attempt to keep her finger where you’d like it, and for now, she abides. Arlecchino allows you to chase the pleasure for only a few moments before she shifts her hand, two of her beautiful blackened digits line up against your entrance.

“Are you going to be a good girl, hm?” A dangerous whisper right against your cheek. At this point, you might just be out of your mind with desperation, so you agree. Your head moves frantically in a nod, a quiet whimper of ‘yes, I promise, please.’ With that, she pushes them in without much difficulty (thanks to the fact you’re convinced you’ve never been this wet). The Knave is so agonisingly slow with it in the best way possible, sliding her fingers in inch by inch until you take her to the knuckle. Usually, she coos, and tells you just how well you’re taking it. Not today.

Instead, she begins her assault, curling her fingers and immediately reaching THAT spot. The woman is quick, and the second you open your mouth to groan, you feel the same two fingers on her other hand push into your mouth and press down on your tongue. You whine in response, but her reply is a cold chuckle, her voice so mockingly sweet. “We have neighbours. Do you want them to hear how badly you’ve been misbehaving?”

You do. You so badly do. You so badly want people to see just how much she can make you fall apart. Alas, you shake your head, and just to irritate her (turn her on) even more, you let your tongue swirl around her fingers the way you’ve done with her strap so many times. You suck on them hungrily, your moans and mewls of pleasure muffled. “Oh, you are a good little whore for me, aren’t you? So obsessed with my fingers you’ve chosen to suck on them while I finger fuck you into silence.”

With each curl of her fingers and rub of her thumb on your stiff clit that just begs for attention, you’re getting to the edge VERY quickly. She knows it, she can tell when you clench around them and your walls pulsate. When your legs tremble and you can barely keep yourself against the wall. When each squelch of her fingers pumping in and out of you has your eyes fucking rolling into your head, and you can no longer focus on anything and you can barely remember your name.

Usually, on nights where she decides to be loving, she’ll slow herself down during your orgasm, to prolong it, to let the pleasure hit you for longer. Today though, she speeds up and moves her fingers harder, so hard, in fact, that tears are once again welling in your eyes, that you’ve begun essentially deepthroating her fingers and gagging on them (she loves it! She adores when the very thing that has you cumming also has you struggling like a little slut, her slut <3).

You tap thrice on her wrist when it gets too much, and she takes her fingers from your mouth quickly, opting to instead clamp her hand firmly around your mouth to shut you up instead. When you cry out as your orgasm hits you, she can only raise a single eyebrow. You did not ask for permission, and she has told you that brats ask for permission. “Peruere,” you moan shakily from behind her palm as you slowly come down from it, but the look in her eyes makes yours widen.

Her fingers slide out of you with a soft squishing sound, and the dark finger pads glisten with the evidence of what she’s done to you. Arlecchino coaxes your jaw open, and she places her fingers into your mouth again, though, softly this time.

“Clean them.” She demands, and you do, groaning at the taste of it and the way she stares right at you. When she’s satisfied, she retracts them, leaving you whimpering at the loss of them. You are spent, and your legs feel like they’re about to give way. Your panties are so wet that you know you’re going to have to put them straight into the washing machine, and the thought of it makes you shiver. You lift yourself off of the wall, your legs trembling, only for her to push you right back.

“No. I did not say we were done. You interrupted my work hours, so I will not be finished with you until my work hours are over. We have about five hours.” Aww, such a shame, isn’t it?

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