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lives-in-midgard · 2 months

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Afterglow

(Musician AU Part 5)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: After Steve made a bad decision he tries to apologize and get you back but can you forgive Steve?

Word Count: 2270

A/N: This is officially the last part of this AU with Steve! I'm sad to post the last part because I really enjoyed writing this AU but who knows maybe we will read about them again. I hope you all enjoyed this series and of course the final part!

I chose Afterglow as the titel of this part because I think that this song from Taylor Swift has a few lyrics that fit very well with it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics .

Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist | Musician AU

It’s been a week since Steve published your song without asking or telling you. You haven’t spoken to him or seen Steve since you yelled at him that night. Steve tried calling and texting you a few times, but you never picked up or looked at his messages. You were so mad at him but also sad because he stole your song. You had known Steve long enough to know that he would never do anything without a good reason, but you needed your time to think about it.

You didn’t want to spend another day alone in your apartment and decided to go to Romanoff’s bar to visit Yelena at work. After the bodyguard Alexei let you in, you went straight to the bar to talk to your friend. Yelena greeted you with a smile and then you talked for a while.

“Have you listened to the song?” Yelena asked.

“No, I…can’t.” You answered. You really haven’t listened to the song yet. Every time it came on the radio, you quickly put on something different. But you saw the fan reviews and saw that the people love The Midnight Rockers’ new song but you couldn’t listen to it, you just can’t.

“You should hear the song Y/N. You really should.”

“You like it?” You nervously asked her.

“It’s so good Y/N, they did such a good job in recording your song.” You talked for a while until you decided to drive home. When you got home you couldn’t stop thinking about what Yelena said. So you sat down on your couch, opened YouTube and clicked on the new Midnight Rockers song. The melody started and you couldn’t believe it. With every lyric they sang, the song got better and better. You could hear drums and a guitar in the background. You knew what part of the song was coming next, and when you heard Steve singing it, a tear ran down your cheek. This lyric means so much to you and you still can’t believe that so many people heard your song. When the song ended, you played it again and then looked through the comments.

“I.love.Steve” commented “OMG this song is so good. I love Steve’s part so much!!”

“Samsgirl” commented “Why does Sam only have one solo part??? But good song though.”

“BuckyBarnesStan” commented “Why is this so good?!”

“Bartonfan” commented “This is such a masterpiece!”

You were smiling, but the last comment remined you of what Steve did. The fans and Yelena were right, the song sounds really good, but that doesn’t mean you can forgive Steve right away, but you also don’t want to lose him again.

You sat there for a while until you heard a knock on your door. You got up and walked to the door. When you opened it, you saw Bucky standing there.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky came over and tried to convince you to talk to Steve or at least let Steve talk to you. He said how sorry Steve was and that he never wanted to hurt your feelings.

“I’m not sure if I can forgive him so easily.” You said after a while.

“I can totally understand that, but just think about what I said, okay?” Bucky asked and you nodded. You hugged Bucky as a goodbye and then thought about what he said.

It’s been two days since Bucky visited you. And well, he was right, you should listen to what Steve has to say to you, especially if you don’t want to lose him again. You walked around the room, trying to think of an idea what to do.

Should you just call him? Or maybe drive to his apartment? But if he’s not there, what then? Maybe you should text him?

Yeah, that’s a good idea, you thought and clicked on his number, trying to form a good sentence but you immediately deleted everything you wrote. You were just typing your next idea when you suddenly received a message from Yelena.

“Turn on your local radio!”

You were about to ask her why when another message came through.

“Don’t ask why, just do it.”

You chuckled and then did as your best friend said. When you turned the radio on, a song was playing. After a few lyrics you had to smile because that was one of the songs you and Steve used to listen to when you were in high school. The next song came on and again it was one that reminded you of a moment with Steve and you had to smile. The third song that played was the first song that Steve and the band covered in high school and played for you. You looked out the window and then noticed that it was starting to rain and heard the rain splashing against the window. Then another song came on, one by the Midnight Rockers. One that Steve told you is about you.

"For most of you these were just a few random songs, but for Steve from Brooklyn these songs have a special meaning to him and also to someone very close to him. So, here is Steve who has a message for this special girl." You sighed and a slight smile grew on your face. That must be your Steve.

"Hey love. I'm not sure if you’re hearing this now, but if you are, I want you to let you know that I'm so sorry and I regret that I did that. I hope you can forgive me one day. And if you want to talk to me, please just call me."

The message ended and you didn't have to hesitate. You pulled out your phone and dialed Steve's number and it only took a few seconds for Steve to answer.

"Hey, Steve."

"Hey." He softly said.

"I'm so sorry." You both said at the same time and then chuckled.

"You first." You said that again at the same time, making you blush. You stayed quiet for a moment, waiting for Steve to talk.

"I'm so sorry for what I did. Please let me explain it to you."

"Maybe you should come over. It's better to talk about it in person and I‘d like to see you too." You suggested.

"Then you should go to your door because I'm already outside of your apartment." You had to smile, but then you remembered that it was raining outside.

“Steve, it's raining."

"I know, so would you please come down and open the door for me." You opened your apartment door and ran down the stairs. When you got to the front door you could hear that it was raining quite heavily. So you quickly opened the door and saw Steve standing in the purring rain. You just looked at each other and it felt like the time stopped for a moment. Coming back to reality, you grabbed his hand and pulled Steve inside.

"Hey." Steve said and smiled.

"Hey, come on let's go upstairs to my apartment where it's warm." You said and you both walked up the stairs to your apartment. When you reached your apartment, you opened the door and walked inside. You looked at Steve who was standing there completely soaked from the rain.

"Oh, Steve, how about you change into some other clothes and then we can talk?" You suggested and Steve nodded. Steve followed you into your room and watched as you picked out some fresh clothes that he had left there a while ago. As you handed it to him, your hands touched and both smiled at each other. You went into the living room and sat down on the couch while Steve put on some fresh clothes.

After a while Steve entered the room with new clothes. He smiled slightly at you and then sat down next to you. You were looking at each other and silence began to grow. Steve took a deep breath and then decided to tell you everything.

"It all started when I had no inspiration for a new song. Tony, my manager, was getting on my nerves and then when I wrote one and he didn't like it, I remembered your song and how good it is. How much people would like it and how much I love it..." He paused for a moment, considering how to say the following things.

"Then I kind of panicked and took a picture of it, composed the melody to it and showed it to Bucky, Sam and Clint. They all liked it and so did Tony. I know it wasn't right, but in that moment it seemed like my only choice. I'm really sorry. " You were sorry and sad that Steve couldn't talk to you about it.

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" You asked him and he looked at the floor.

"I'm not sure."

"But I want to do this right. I want to tell it Tony and if it's okay for you then I I’ll announce that it wasn't me who wrote it, but a very talented woman." You reached for his hand and smiled at him.

"Is it okay if I think about it and then tell you?"

"Of course, swe-" Steve held back from saying “sweetheart” because of the argument you had the last time he wanted to say it.

"You can say it, honey." You said, making Steve smile.

"I missed you so much, sweetheart." Steve finally said it again. You placed your head on his shoulder and sat there for a while. You thought about what he said and if he should tell the world that you wrote the song.

After a while you looked up to him, held his cheek and kissed.

"I forgive you, honey. I know you didn't want to hurt me, but I won't forget it anytime soon." Steve sighed but nodded.

"That's okay and I understand that. I'm just glad to have you back."

"Me too." You said, laying your head back on his shoulder.

A week passed and almost everything was back to normal. Steve was back in your life, and you spent a lot of time with Bucky, Sam and Clint. Steve told Mr. Stark, his manager, about the song, your song. You still haven’t decided if you want the world to know, but after thinking about it and talking to Yelena and also Bucky, you’ve decided to tell Steve what you think he should do.

The movie you were watching ended and you laid there cuddling with Steve for a while.

“Stevie?” You looked up after a while.

“Yes, honey.” Steve smiled at you.

“I …I think I want the world to know that I wrote this song.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked and you nodded.

“Okay, then I’ll tell Tony tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

“That’s okay.” Steve smiled at you and then kissed you softly.

When Steve got home from the meeting with Tony, he was really excited and said that his manager wants to meet you. You were nervous, but then agreed to come to a meeting with Steve. The other band members of the Midnight Rockers were also there and gave you comforting smiles.

The meeting started and Tony greeted you and after a while he finally said why he wanted you to come to the meeting.

“As we know, all the fans love your song and so do we. And I was wondering if you have a few more songs?” You got nervous and Steve took your hand and gave you a smile.

“Yeah, I have some more.” You said and Tony nodded.

“They’re all very good too.” Steve suddenly said and Tony nodded again.

“When Steve told me this song wasn’t his or the other members’, I came up with this idea.”

“What if you were the new co-writer of the Midnight Rockers?” He said and you let his words sink in. You as a co-writer that would change so much! But it would be a great chance…people would hear your songs. You would work together with Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint.

“Of course, you can think about it first.” Tony said.

“No, I don’t think I have to.” You said and Tony nodded, thinking that would be a no.

“That’s okay.”

“Because I would really like to be the new co-writer of the band.” You said, seeing that Steve had a proud smile on his face just like the boys.

You signed a paper and talked about how the band would tell the fans about it. After talking for a while, they all agreed to make a video on Instagram where they say that the new song was written by their new co-writer, who also happens to be Steve’s girlfriend.

From that moment on a lot changed for you and also for the band. You had a press conference with them as their new co-writer. Then you had to quit your job and started writing songs with Steve and sometimes professionally with the others.

There were days when you and Steve would lie on the floor with papers and the guitar, trying to write a new song, or you would go to places where you could both find inspiration. You laughed and enjoyed so many great and funny moments together and were always so happy when you finished a new song. Seeing them record your songs and then sing them in front of an audience made you so happy. Steve is so proud of you and you are proud of him.

You had such great moments together and it was just the start of the beginning.

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simonsdoll · 1 year

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birthday girl

Pairing: Ghost x fem reader

Words: 2270

Disclaimer:NSFW CONTENT AND MDNI

Warning: SMUT,P in V sex ,fingering,oral, cursing,praises/degrading

A/n: Its my b-day! Kinda wanted to do something special for it and my bad if its badly written I wrote this on a whim.Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Simon new exactly what to give you for your birthday. He bought himself some black laced under wear that hugged his thighs perfectly. Making his cock look big and secure. At first he was a bit anxious that you may find it awkward or that it would ruin the experience. He himself wasn’t big on gift giving and pretty much had no idea what to give you. For all he knew is that once you see him in the laced underwear a cheeky grin would be plastered on your face. For a second Simon took a look for himself in the mirror admiring his manly physique not being able to hide his blushed face and smirk thinking how damn fine he looks in them. His ass is on full display making sure it looks perfect for you. Thinking that maybe he would wear them again next time if you asked him to. He quickly put on his robe and made his way to surprise you.

Simon walked into your shared bedroom watching you as you were laid back waiting him to come cuddle up with you. Simon’s gaze never left yours as he sees you crawl and sit on the edge of the bed about to ask why he’s wearing the robe. “I have a surprise for you love” his words echoed through your mind. What could it possible be this late at night? You were sat, looking at Simon in pure anticipation while instinctively you pressed your thighs together thinking if Simon was thinking what you wanted him to do to you. “You naughty girl,you just wanna be fucked don’t you?” You had nothing to say not when he was talking to you seductively and looking at you with his dark lustful eyes. Without breaking eye contact he unties his robe slowly teasing you and also in his mind he’s rethinking if this was ever a good idea but it is when you look at him with doe eyes anticipating that he fucks you senseless.

He opens his robe and throws it across the room while gazing at you waiting for your reaction. His cheeks slowly staring to blush and his nipples hardening from the cold and sudden air. Your heart threatens to stop beating as your eyes trail down his tall and muscular figure. “You like what you see,birthday girl?”he asked seductively. You were at a loss for words and you could only swallow thickly before a devilish smirk formed on your face. Simon’s cock twitched inside the right underwear. The tension that was built was thick and you both were in desperate need of someone to say something first. What a vision it was, seeing Simon’s muscled silhouette and laced underwear that hugged his ever growing erection by the second. His ‘V’ line disappearing into the lace and his happy trail peeking slightly outside his underwear. He was eyeing you down waiting for you to say something. You walked up to Simon, breasts jumping with each step as you placed one hand on his chest and one hand teasing and palming his laced covered cock.

You knew what you were doing to Simon and there’s no denying Simon was enjoying it too. The blush on his face and the prolonged eye contact was showing you everything you needed to know. Simon’s cock twitched as his breathing became heavier and heavier. After many years with you, you still seem to get him all flustered up. He knew exactly what you loved and knew how to make you feel special. Simon walked towards you slowly until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed and he pushed you roughly onto the bed. “Because it’s your birthday love….I’m gonna give my birthday girl whatever she desires” he says in a seductive tone. He demands you to strip off your clothes and you do but there’s no fun if you don’t tease him back. You teased Simon by slowly pulling down your bra making sure to never break eye contact as you fully remove it. The cold air making your nipples perk up as you pinch and slowly massage your nipples feeling a bit sore and sensitive from the sudden sensation.

Simon was palming his cock and rubbing it painfully slowly to build friction against his cock. He starts to moan quietly under his breath as he sees you turn around and bend over on all fours to display your arousal stained panties. Your clothed pussy seeping arousal by the second as Simon can’t keep his moans down. “You can’t tease me like that love and not expect to be punished.” Simon jumped on the bed as soon as he heard your precious whimpers no longer able to contain his composure of the sight of you waiting so eagerly for him to just fuck you already. He has you lay on your back as he leans in and leaves dark hickeys on your neck. Trailing wet and soft kisses on your collarbone and slowly down your abdomen. “S-Simon please” you say as he teases your clit, massaging it teasingly slowly. “Does my birthday girl wanna be touched?” You let out a deep breath of air as the pleasure adds up. “Touch me baby p-pleasee.” Simon chuckles as he watches you squirm from his teases.

“Oh no love not until you beg for it” Simon says with a shit eating grin as he watches your cheeks blush from embarrassment. “I’ll do anything you want me to do to you as long as you beg for it nicely.” You whimper from the desperation to just feel Simon fuck his fingers into you until your babbling words. “Please Simon I wanna feel you j-just fuck me already!” He smirks, “Your so fucking cute when you beg. I’ll give it to you princess.” Simon slides his fingers through your wet folds and he inserts deep into your wet cunt. “Soo fucking wet f’me love.” He starts fucking his fingers into you slowly and deeply making your lips fall apart while your back arches off the bed.

“Good girl just like that love.” Simon says as he speeds up the pace while he hears your moans and whines get louder and louder by the second. Your arousal began to make a squelching sound with every thrust of his fingers into your hot cunt while he sucks on your clit even stronger like a starved man. Simon devours you letting out groans from his jaw beginning to cramp as he lets himself drown in your arousal and excess saliva. “Ahh fuuuck!” you moan loudly as your climax is about to come. With his mouth along with his fingers, Simon had you coming undone in no time. He glances up quickly and he sees your eye brows furrow as you orgasm all over Simon’s face and fingers. He sits up on his heels while he sucks his fingers clean of your cum and arousal. He grins watching a smile of satisfaction form on your face barely able to keep your eyes open.

You babbled random words as he gently slaps you out of your euphoric state. “Simon just fuuck me now!” You say as your tears fall down your cheeks pathetically. “Go on love beg for it nicely” Simon says between breaths as he smirks palming his erection waiting for you to ask him ever so nicely. “Please baby I wanna cum around your cock.” Simon’s cock throbs at your words as he quickly rips his laced underwear off of him discarding it and throwing it across the room in a hurry. “You want me to fill your cunt up so good don’t you princess?” You feel your skin crawl at his raspy tone of voice using words he knows has you begging for more. “Please please Simon!” you said in desperate need to just feel his fat cock inside you already. “You think I’m giving it to you that easy sweetheart? Get on your knees.” You obey as you see him pump his red tipped throbbing cock up and down groaning softly from the pleasure. “Fuck Simon your so big.” He grins cockily before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your face within inches of his throbbing cock. “I wanna see you choke on this fucking cock like the pretty slut you are.”

You wrap a hand around the base of his cock as you lick his hot precum from his tip. He whimpers loudly while bucking his hips into your mouth trying to force his cock into your warm mouth. You lick and trace the thick protruding vein running along his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip before sucking him deep then removing yourself with a ‘pop’ sound from your lips. “Ahh fuck baby just like that” Simon says as he starts to whisper incoherent words from your teasing. “Yeah baby, you like when I stroke your cock like that?” Simon nods pathetically for you to continue making him feel so good. “Fucking hell yes love just like that.” You flatten your tongue as you take Simon’s big cock into your mouth again. He groans and grips your hair tightly as you start to bob your head up and down his thick cock.

His chest rises up and down as he can’t keep down his moans of pleasure while he guides you even deeper down his cock. You gag on his cock when he forcefully guides you down his shaft. “Shut up you filthy whore and take every inch of my cock like the slut you are.” His degrading words making you even more soaking wet as you rub your thighs together for any sense of relief as he continues to guide you roughy down his cock. After a few minutes Simon pulls you off of him, tears running down your cheeks and spit dripping down your chin as you gasp for a breath of air as his thick cock left no space for breathing. “That’s enough love, lay down f’me.” With shaky and soaked legs you do as he ordered. Simon walks on his knees towards you before placing a kiss to your temple. He pumps himself up and down before smothering his cock with your arousal as he slowly slams his cock into you. Letting out a gasp of pleasure as he pulls out and slams himself back inside you. “Fuck your little cunt feels sooo good baby” he says as he places his fists on the sides of your head twisting the sheets in pleasure.

His abs began to tense as your gummy walls start to clench around him. Your whines start turning into moans when Simon start to pound you into the mattress while his cold dog tags dangle on your face. The pleasure making you so overwhelmed your eyes water striking tears down your face and Simon taking notice as he kisses the tears away. “Tell me how good this feels princess” you sniffle as your hands grip and twist the sheets barely able to reply back to his question only letting moans escape your lips. “Feels so so goood f-fuuuckk!” As Simon rams himself into you the sound of skin slapping and moaning exerts the force of his cock slamming into your weeping cunt even tougher and harder. Your back arching and your legs wrap around Simon’s waist as he kisses you sloppily trying to muffle your screams of arousal. “Fuckk love, cum on my cock” Simon says as he fucks himself into you as fast as he can feeling his climax coming soon. Simon starts to moan pathetically and tears began to collect on his eyes. The raspiness of his sultry voice making goosebumps appear on your skin as Simon moans and whimpers next to your ear as he presses his forehead against yours.

He begins to stutter unable to bring himself to say anything as the pleasure of his cock hitting your cervix has him babbling words and panting intensely. He pounds into you relentlessly as he starts to whine form the overstimulation. “Beg me to l-let you cum filthy whore y-you are.” Simon slaps your face gently waking you up from the wave of pleasure that has ridden over your whole body. “Yes Simon fuck please just let me cum pleaseee!” Simon’s thrusts become sloppier as his body begins to tense up “Ahhh fuckk good fuckin girl!” he manages to quickly say as he orgasms feeling your pussy squeeze down on him. Your body tensed up as your orgasm washed over you only letting out a squeal before your vision went black. Simon laid on top of you propped over on his elbows making sure not to crush you. He brings himself up and he gives you a sloppy rough kiss as he slowly wipes beads of sweat from your face. He let out a whimper as pulled out from your sore cum filled pussy.

“You did so good for me love” Simon said in a whisper as you came back from your high. He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “ I hope you liked your birthday gift baby” he said with a breathy chuckle. “I fucking loved it Simon.” You sneakingly snake your hands to his ass and give him a playful smack making Simon gasp in surprise. “Ahh what the fuck what that for love?” he said rolling his eyes playfully. “Simon…I’m buying you another pair for next time” you said giggling. Simon looked at you in surprise and started blushing. He guesses you do like the laced underwear he surprised you in when he thought you wouldn’t. Simon pulled you to his side and gently stroked your hair as you rested your head on his chest. “Happy birthday” he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

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lxndonorris · 1 year

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that smirk - lestappen

Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen Theme: Smut (you've been warned) Charles is his flight to Australia, with Maxs 's Sports Illustrated with him. He can't help himself but get way too into the cover photo and needs to do something about it x Note: Hope you like it, thanks to @maxemilianverstappen for the idea :) I used a few more pics, hope its okay. word count: 2270+

After an uneventful start, the plane is now flying gently through the wide, open sky. There are barely any clouds around, and the sun is shining brightly.

Charles sits right at the window, wearing a pair of sweatpants, sneakers, and a plain white shirt. He's pretty nervous yet excited to finally have a Grand Prix in Australia again.

Thinking deeply, he imagines himself finally winning a race this season, which is overdue, which causes him to smile.

"Charles." A voice snaps him out of his daydream.

"Huh?" He flinches slightly, turning his head towards the sound. A young steward is standing right next to him, casually leaning against his seat.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to spook you." He says, blushing.

"It's fine." Charles chuckles and shakes his head.

"How can I help you?" He licks his lips.

"I just meant to tell you that it's going to be a long flight." The guy says, handing him a few magazines.

"Here. In case you feel like reading something." Charles smiles warmly and accepts the offer.

"Thank you. I totally will." They exchange a quick look and a shy smile before the steward leaves.

There are not too many people on this flight; most of them took an earlier flight, taking all the necessary steps in Melbourne before Charles's arrival. He leans back towards the window, thinking about the race again.

However, now something else is dominating his thoughts. The one and only Max Verstappen. Charles' eyes narrow, remembering the last couple of races. Sadly, he didn't have the opportunity to get a place on the podium, yet Max did.

They have a complicated relationship; in their earlier years, they didn't get along too well. Right now, Charles enjoys racing Max very much indeed. He sees the Dutchman as his strongest rival, the one to beat, the one to dominate on the track.

But there is something else amid their on-track rivalry. Charles can't help himself but be attracted to Max. He is attracted to his outstanding looks, his honest personality, and his superb ability with a race car.

Even though he is envious of the car Red Bull was able to build this season, he wishes Ferrari would finally step up, giving Charles a shot at the championship.

Sighing audibly, he leans his head back against the soft seat and turns his head toward the few people hustling around him. It's going to be a long flight, and even though daydreaming is fun, he needs to find something else to kill some time.

He then spots the pile of magazines resting on the table in front of him, shuffles through them, and looks for anything worth a look.

At first, the usual gossip pieces are nothing too interesting, but then he holds the new Sports Illustrated in his hands, and who's on the cover? Max Verstappen.

Taking a deep breath, Charles takes a closer look at the cover: A huge picture of Max with his typical yet intriguing smirk.

He lifts his chin slightly, his gaze drawn to Max's beautiful eyes and to his soft lips.

'He looks so fine.' Charles thinks to himself, and his eyes get stuck on the playful smirk.

He knows this exact smirk just too well. It's the way Max would look when he was totally in control. Every time they'd talk about Max's outstanding performance in qualifying, his race win, or simply when he would tease Charles.

He remembers the last time they met in the paddock after the race. Max told him that he should kick Ferrari's asses to get upgrades so Charles could compete with him. The smirk popped up when he leaned in closer to whisper something into his ear.

"I want to have you at the front, so I can beat you on track." He remembers the way his voice sounded so rough—just so hot—and how Max's eyes wandered down his body, seemingly undressing him with his mind before their eyes met again.

"That's much more fun." Max's breath against his neck gave him goosebumps.

Charles relives this moment—the way his body reacted to the hot breath on his skin, the way his heart started racing—imagining finally competing against Max for the win, to finally beat him again, to show him what he has to offer.

He's remembering the last time he beat him during the Austrian Grand Prix last season. Remembering how good it felt to finally be on top, but most importantly, to be in front of Max.

When he sprayed him from behind, he felt his whole body react to it. Knowing it was his rival made this even better.

At that point, he couldn't hide his excitement anymore, and a coy bulge formed inside his red racing suit—all of this felt so good, earned, and made him hard.

Charles smirks with his eyes closed and dwells in that moment for as long as possible.

He opens his eyes and notices his hand firmly rubbing his length through his red sweatpants, subconsciously. His face instantly turns bright red, and he looks around, checking if anyone caught him. No one even pays too much attention to him; all of them are quite busy themselves.

Charles' eyes wander back to the cover, and the look in Max's eyes draws him right into it again. Taking several deep breaths, he feels himself getting harder with every second, unable to keep his hand from touching himself. There is nothing to distract him from these thoughts now.

"Fuck." A low, quiet moan escapes his lips when he grabs himself firmly. There is a visible tent forming in his tight pants, his nipples are piercing through the thin fabric of his shirt, and all of his muscles are testing the limits of all of his clothes.

"Now?" He bites his lips before a louder moan leaves his mouth, and he basically jumps off the seat, the magazine firmly in his hands.

This, however, gets the attention of the steward again, so Charles uses the magazine to cover his bulge from prying eyes.

"Is everything alright?" He says, taking a closer step toward Charles, whos now blushing heavily.

"Yeaaah." His voice breaks, and he coughs, trying to cover the huskiness in his voice. "I just want to go to the bathroom." He nods and feels his face heat up rapidly.

This should work, shouldn't it?

The steward tilts his head before a polite smile forms on his lips.

"Oh, okay." He says, making some room for Charles to go through the plane. Charles makes his way through the plane and right toward the bathroom. Nervously, he passes most of the staff and his team, feeling their eyes all over him.

Do they know? They must know! His pants are barely able to hide his length at any time, but now it must be super obvious. 'Just stay calm,' he mutters under his breath once he reaches the unlocked door.

Anyway, he opens the bathroom door, rushes inside, and closes it behind him. Instantly, he leans against the cold door, letting out a low, guttural grunt.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He groans under his breath, one of his hands instantly grabbing himself again. His desire is imprinting through the pants, and touching himself makes it even worse—his member is still growing, and he feels him pulsating slowly.

Charles takes a few steps into the room, standing in front of the mirror. He's panting slightly, unable to catch his breath while feeling himself bulge harder and harder.

Leaning his head back, he holds back a moan, before looking back at the cause of this predicament, Max's cover. Breathlessly, he sits down on the toilet seat, one hand holding the magazine and the other now stroking his chest through his shirt. His muscles are so tight that his entire body is stiffening.

"This is fucking insane." He thinks, playing with his erect nipple for a second, before returning his attention back to his crotch.

"Are you going to do something about that, or are you just going to sit there?" He can hear Max's voice inside his head.

Gnashing his teeth, he grabs himself firmly once more. "Fuck off." Charles grunts, closing his eyes for just a second, trying his best to push these thoughts away, to calm down, and return to his seat.

"We both know this ain't going to work." He hears his voice again, and when he opens his eyes, he can see him standing in the corner of this room. Max is wearing that dark blue racing suit with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and the exact same smirk forms on his lips.

Charles's eyes wander all over Max's well-formed body before he turns his face away.

"What do you expect me to do?" Charles says angrily before lowering his voice when he hears someone walking around outside the room.

"There is only one way." Max shrugs, exposing his broad shoulders and chest, filling that suit completely. "Jerk off."

Charles rolls his eyes. "You'd love that." He scoffs, but when Max's eyes just wander to Charles' hand, still rubbing against his ever-growing desire, he lets out a low groan again. His body starts to heat up quickly, and he starts to sweat.

He knows Max is right; it's the only way to release this pressure slowly building up in his body.

Slightly pissed off, he lets the magazine drop to the floor, so both of his hands are free. Charles starts to stroke himself again, one hand on his chest, the other sliding inside his pants, touching himself through his briefs now.

"Very good." Max keeps smirking, raising his head to look down at Charles, who's now breathing heavily.

"Shut up." He growls, but at the same time, he cannot help himself but get even more turned on by Max's behavior.

After a few more strokes, he lets his sweat pants drop down to his ankles, exposing his length stretching his underwear.

"Nice." Max nods approvingly, but this angers Charles even more.

"Stop enjoying this." He says, a quick smile escaping his lips before his face turns hard again. This causes Max to lick his lips, still looking at Charles with that mischievous smirk across his face.

"What are you waiting for?" He hears his rough voice now echo through his mind as he grabs himself, moving his hand rhythmically.

Charles would never admit it, but he is enjoying himself as well now, and his body is giving it all away. Even though he is slightly agitated, all of him is reacting to his firm strokes, movements, and the heat all around him.

Feeling himself getting more and more into it, he gets up, uncaps the toilet seat, removes his underwear, and sits back down again. He can't stain any of his clothes, not here or now.

All of his muscles are now bulging harshly, with his chest, nipples, and abs being firm due to all this pressure. Charles keeps on stroking his chest while his other hand is moving up and down his length, edging him on and on.

"I could do that better." Max says suddenly, standing now right in front of him, his eyes locking with Charles' once he glances up.

"Want me to help?" He smirks. Holding back a deep growl, Charles licks his lips, unable to speak without moaning loudly. It feels like Max is actually in this bathroom right now. His presence, the faint scent of his cologne, and the sound of his rough voice fill the air all around him.

"I don't need your help." He grunts, but the thought of Max's hand on him intoxicates his mind.

Charles feels hands on his shoulder, on his thighs, and on his back, gently stroking him and encouraging him to keep going.

Somehow, Max knows all of his sensitive spots. He draws circles across Charles' chest, encompassing his abs and nipples with his fingertip through the shirt, before stroking his treasure trail.

"I could do it better, see?" Max's smirk grows larger as he leans in even closer.

Charles stops for a second, needing all of his strength to hold back a dozen moans and groans, trying to escape his throat.

"Like that, do you?" Max growls, his face now right in front of Charles'.

"Do it faster and harder, Charles." He demands, and Charles reacts instantly.

Many different thoughts rush through his mind. On the one hand, he feels humiliated to let Max speak to him like that; on the other hand, something inside him loves all of this.

He intensifies the grip around his member and moves it even faster.

"Al..al…almost". A rough, guttural moan escapes his throat. This causes Max to chuckle.

"Even harder, Charles." He says it breathlessly, almost moaning. Instinctively, Charles follows Max's lead and jerks off harder. He thrusts into his hand a couple of times, waves of pain and pleasure rushing through every fiber of his being.

"Fuuuck." Charles groans, and with that, his body goes stiff and rigid, the tension getting too overwhelming, right before he finally cums.

Unable to move for a second, he feels all of that pressure leave his body, and with a voiceless scream, his body slowly relaxes. Once or twice, he cums over and over again, luckily not on his clothes.

He raises his hand, stroking his own neck and running his fingers through his beard.

"Very good," Max says, but when Charles lifts his head, there is no one in sight.

He touches himself gently, slowly catching his breath, when he sees the magazine lying on the floor and that picture of Max smirking and watching him closely.

"That dumb smirk." He chuckles and cleans himself up before getting dressed again. His dick is still slightly bigger, and anyone could tell, but right now, he doesn't care anymore.

Standing in front of the mirror, he fixes his hair before looking for some deodorant lying around. Charles uses it across his whole body, trying to cover up the sweat and other scents. Satisfied, he touches himself once more, straightening his trousers, before picking up the magazine and returning to his seat.

#Charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc smut #Lestappen #Lestappen smut #Charles leclerc fanfic #Charles leclerc fanfiction #lestappen fanfic #Lestappen fanfiction #Lestappen blurb #Lestappen story #Lestappen writing #Max verstappen #Max verstappen fanfiction #Max verstappen smut #Max verstappen imagine #max x charles

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helloescapist · 8 months

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Hello. I read your Shinobu in a relationship post and honestly I'm speechless at how in depth it is. Wow! Can I ask for more? I need more. Like perhaps more info about them quarreling? The gifts. Or or they are newlyweds and reader got badly hurt and forgets about her. Will her live be stronger and how will she deal with it? Thank you so much!

SO, because of how much I love the “reader got badly hurt and forgets her”. It just pierces me through the heart, and it, it just deserves its own individual attention. I love it. I really do. So, this will be a two-part answer. With the second part to follow later (I'll come back and link it when it's up as well as put it on the masterlist as well!).

Quarrelling and Gifting Headcanons | Shinobu Kocho

Word Count: 2270

Setting: Shinobu Kocho x gn!reader

Content Warnings: SFW, we beat around the bush.

[image is not mine]

It’s so important to note that, Shinobu really will avoid unnecessary conflict in her relationships. It’s not that she’s afraid of a fight, or even the risk of “losing”. Because to be honest, she doesn’t think she will lose the argument. Rather, she really just feels that they can be completely avoided. Which is… ironic as conflict tends to find her.

Let’s be honest, as adorable and sassy as her remarks often are, they have the tendency to rub others the wrong way.

When it comes to disputes of any kind, Kocho has a strong preference for facts, rather than allow her emotions to run the discussion. She knows nothing good will come of doing that. In an attempt to keep the smile on her face, and further suppress her frustration (This woman has stomach ulcers I swear), she will focus her attention on the overall picture. How this argument will play into the enormity of your relationship. Is it something small such as mistakenly utilized a decorative towel?

The practically of her brain screams in agony. It. Is. A. Towel. Therefore, her usage is appropriate, but for all that her logic wails at her, you really do adore those cutesy towels. She’s sorry. She’ll take better care next time to leave your prized serviette be. A dispute over who’s turn it is to tend to the dishes? No, she distinctly remembers that she did in fact scrub them the night before, but, she’ll note the small bags under your eye. The languid movement, and stifled yawn. You had made her dinner despite your fatigue from work, and she knows you hate the task.

She’ll do it.

Now, let’s be clear. Shinobu is not a pushover, nor is she a placemat. You will not often find her compliant, but you will discover that she does try to understand your perspective. To notice when you’re sore from having carried too heavy of a burden, exhausted from running errands, or whether the heat has gotten to you. She will take this with a grain of salt, and accept that you are human.

However, she will go to great lengths to ensure that the same dispute, does not happen twice. You may see a chore chart in your near future, or she may simply request enacting a rule that states, whoever doesn’t cook will do the washing, and your decorative towels will be accompanied by more practical towels. She will keep implementing solution after solution until one is successful.

That being said, in every relationship. There comes a point when you will be tested. Blows will be traded, petty remarks, and snippy behavior, and a fight is just unavoidable. (Shinobu knows, as she tried her damnest to dodge it).

To be in a bond with the Insect Hashira is to know that these blows are not common place. They’re rare, and far and few between. In fact, your love has likely avoided such a dispute for a noteworthy passage of time. You had even begun to wonder if she was capable of expressing anger. When it happens, you were likely knocked entirely off kilter. D-Did Shinobu raise her voice?

Understand that it will never be anything small that has drawn the preserved woman’s ire. As I have mentioned, she is a woman of solution, and prefers to mull things with rationale. With great consideration. But just because she is not as trigger happy as other partners, does not mean her patient is limitless. There are a few things that could make your relationship tense.

You may find yourself humiliated by Kocho’s inability to keep her tongue and cheek in check. To an extent, she understands that you have to play into your boss’s ego. She will tell herself time and time again that it is all a part of the corporate ladder (both in the modern world and the taisho era), but there will come a point when an ignorant employer will push her too far.

It may be that they pushed off their duties on you for yet another time without the slightest clue as to how to perform the task, and yet to continue to berate you for the smallest of infringements. It may be that once again, they have pronounced your name wrong at a social gathering, or they have allocated the blame to you of an incorrect order even though it is clearly their own hand writing. Regardless as to how you arrived here, her tongue has betrayed her. It has written a carnet you cannot afford.

“[YN]. It’s pronounced, {YN},” while she glowers at the man. The cut of his eyes, shocked that she would dare to do correct a man of his station. A social gathering to promote a new item at your place of work, a tea shop having already driven you ragged for the month. The buffoon of a man so incompetent that he could not work off the necessary mathematical equations to determine the quantities to order, so he had pushed all of his duties on you. Late nights dragging you through the mud. Questioning your competence, degrading you so openly. Unashamed of his own ignorance, far too content to place the burdens on you. To play you the very fool he was, and while she had tried to convince herself that it was necessary, you loved your job. You were not in over your head; you understood the importance of boundaries in your work life. Oh, she had tried, she really had, but to have heard the botched symbols roll of his tongue, butchering your name to the owner of the tea shop. "Excuse me," his voice appalled, a note of warning flicked across his tongue. Completely ignored despite the obvious widening of your eyes, and the touch of your hand against her arm. Lightly tugging. Far too late for that, the rage immolating from every pore of her being. Her teeth gritted, her pragmatic existence whispering for her to cool her temper. To remember her place, to remember your job, and the attention from others she has garnished. Alas, it’s too late. Amongst tea shop attendants, business owners, and members of the community, she had drawn the line in the sand. Stood her ground, as she hissed. “[YN]. You should be well aware of how to pronounce it. You have only had them working like a dog the past few days.” The insistent tugs and coos that you attempted to reassure her were wasted. She was too far gone. Somewhere between insisting he prove his competence, revealing his competence, and fallen curses that near shattered her teeth in her attempt to restrain, Shinobu had realized. She had gone too far.

Shinobu will recognize that her temper had gotten the better of her. That she not only (successfully) told off your boss, but in a public setting amongst your peers, community members, and even strangers. She’s (sort of) embarrassed. While the Insect Hashira still feels that she was correct—the man obviously deserved a tongue lashing, she can acknowledge that it was neither the time, nor the place.

She won’t apologize for how she felt, but she will apologize for how she had conducted herself.

Another situation that you may find yourself in a dispute will come of Shinobu’s own social battery. Bare in mind that while she is willing to engage in the occasional social event, especially if you are a social butterfly, she is still an introvert by nature. She needs time between each outing to recharge her own social batter, and if it’s not given, you will find Kocho snippy. Even a little petty.

When the poison wielder is up for the social interaction, she works over time to ensure she sticks to social expectations. They don’t come naturally to her, and if you recall, she often spills her own thoughts without even realizing that she had insulted someone. This will only be amplified if her social batter is overtly drained.

Except, she’s no longer trying to behave.

She will look your friend dead in the eye and ask why they insist on clinging to you. Do they not realize that as lovers, you would like time alone together from time to time. Third wheel.

Yet again, she needs a moment to realize why you’re upset—she’s dating you not your friend. Ugh, but your friends matter to you. [insert the annoyed groan]. Okay, she was wrong. She handled this poorly. She’s sorry, Shinobu will try another approach next time.

She’s aware that her turn of phrase is not always… the nicest.

And lastly, Kocho is not attached to drama. Overtly emotional situations, and individuals can often times be draining for her. It requires a bit more of herself to follow your train of thought in these situations. She’s tired, but for the most part, she will accept your emotional needs—that’s what a partner does.

However, intentionally setting herself into drama induced scenarios such as power struggles, fighting for your attention, attempts to elicit jealousy as her lover, etc. These will never end well. You will find her tongue sharp, poised, lethal, and ready. Emotional Manipulation of even the smallest level is difficult for her to sort through, but to discover you had outright forced the situation on her will have her seething.

Such situations such as intentionally allowing her to believe that you have slept with another person, will elicit unburden rage. She will rely on the facts, you. Manipulated. Her. She will withdraw, cold calculated. Lethal. You’re sorry? Yes, yes you will be. Atonement is the only solution.

It’s war.

She is emotional, irate, and irrational.

Even if it means taking herself out, she will drag you with her.

In a fight or flight response, she loses all sense of herself. Backed into a corner, Shinobu’s insticts to survive is what captivates her. Drags her to make impulsive moves, to decimate all in her path to safety. She… hates this about herself. Her carelessness for self-preservation.

In more explosive situations (like genuine abusive, yandere behavior), the Insect Hashira runs the risk of simply cutting bonds. Severing ties, burning bridges in her rage. Pack her things in the middle of the night, disappear into the moonlight.

You will never see her again.

She saw the problem and provided a solution.

Ultimately, that’s Shinobu’s goal. A dispute is really just a problem masquerading in emotions. She feels that as your lover, it is her duty to help find solutions. To ensure the success of your relationship. Her affections will drive her to deeper lows and higher highs than she could have ever imagined, than her spirit will even confess.

That being said, even in times of heated disputes, if you are able to maintain your wits. TO remain logical and reliant, calm despite her storm, you will find that Shinobu is almost always, willing to compromise.

Gifts from Shinobu I believe would very. They may feel extremely diverse, and often times, completely unrelated. H-How could the same person who had affectionately gifted you a small stuffy of a Japanese macaque monkey also gift you… a fish head? Or perhaps the better question is, why did she give you a fish head?

You will find that no matter how far apart you are from one another, Shinobu’s thoughts are always with you. You are always on her mind, the small ways you fiddle with your hair. The touch of light across your cheeks, the small way you bite your thumb when you’re thinking--- you are always present in her thoughts regardless of her task. Because of this, she will bring you some of the most… obscure tokens of affections from her travels.

She had gifted you a delicately weaved snow monkey stuff because while she had been passing through, she happened to come face to face with one in the bath. The relaxed way the little one’s features grazed in the onsen. It’s small puff of hair, and the way the anima’s eyes closed in deep satisfaction to meet the warm water---- ah how cute, you often made such a face in the bath. When she would wash your back.

When Shinobu passed by a food stall in a port region on her way home, she could not help but notice the lavish cloth. The blonde who’s speech was unfamiliar, and overtly friendly seller at that, drew her attention. You had recently taken an intrust in foreign books. Spoke of how lovely the details had appeared. She brought one of his confections, a cake? He had delicately wrapped the sparkling treat in cloth, a translator ensuring that the symbol a roze—no, rose had significant meaning in his culture of romance.

Picked up a new pair of sandals for you, delicate little weaves of flowers carefully placed into the making. You express that it really wasn’t necessary, a simple replacement shoe would have been more than enough, but she’ll disagree. The color is the exact shade of pink that blossoms on your cheeks when she praises you.

The Lavender hair pin that she has placed into the intricate wave of strands of hair. The embellishment admittedly flashy enough to draw Tengen’s attention, blow glass and meticulously crafted. A special order that she had placed upon your anniversary, the small touch of her smile as she places it into your hair. “Do you know what lavender symbolizes?”

The Fish head in all of its peculiarities. While it’s true that that it’s usage avoids unnecessary waste, her medical book had expressed that it would increase your serotonin levels, and assist in sleep. She had noticed the way you tossed and turn at night, drifted from bed to warm your self water in the hopes that sleep would follow. Shinobu will prepare a fish head for you, and wish you sweet dreams.

Her gifts while… unique all serves a purpose. Her devotion to you.

Secured in every package.

Part two of Request: Wisteria Bound Promises

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kocho #thehashirasinarelationship #🍡tsuyospeaks

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cherryo · 2 years

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Heyo!! I read ur Raph x reader smut and it was adorable!! May I request A Donnie x chubby Fem reader? Fluff and smut!! I don't really like anything angsty (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

hi darling!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the Raph fic!! I don't write for him often so I'm glad it was good <33 Donnie is my favorite, in all of the versions and series hands down so this was super easy. i am sorry that it took so long though!!

I'm not technically chubby (just what some people would say like pudgy? in my mind those are different but if not I'm sorry :(( ) but I see a lot of Chubby!readers are insecure? which sucks!!! you should not be insecure about it!! (I understand though) anywho I didn't really know how to bring up the fact reader was chubby but I did my best!!

genre: fluff to smut pairing: Rise!Donnie x reader <3 word count:2270 pronouns: she/her and fem bodied!!

warnings: talk of marriage!! no baby talk though, explicit themes, cursing, post-movie but no spoilers for the movie (in the movie Donnie is in fact 16 so it's four years post :))a tiny bit body worship,donnie being mean and teasing slightly(also edging and overstim, plus crying) slight cervix fucking and creampie, i really tried to keep down anything rough or hard but it’s diffifuclt for me lol , somewhat proof read but not really!! i hope you enjoy <33

It started out like any other day, you had slept over the night before at the lair. You guys had been watching Lou jitsu movies, taking a break so you guys could skate (more like watching the boys skate, their ramp is far too scary for you).

Donnie had gotten bored of skating, opting to go back to his lab to work on more projects. Dragging you along with him, of course, he couldn't be a second without you for the most part. You found a comfy chair, bringing it over to his desk to be close and watch him work.

The extra chair had just shown up out of the blue one day, Donnie claims it had been there the whole time but his blush says otherwise. You dropped it, you thought the silent declaration of "I want you to be here and close to me" was sweet and you'd rather not ruin it.

Scooting closer to him in your chair, he looked up at you to acknowledge you, his goggles already pulled down onto his face. Turning back with a tiny soft smile on his face, he wondered how he got so lucky as to have found you.

Before meeting you he never had thought about a relationship, and definitely never thought about the future of that relationship, but here he was thinking about what it held for the two of you.

You guys hadn't ever talked about marriage or beyond the next month regarding your relationship. You thought about it often though, what it would be like to marry him, live with him, grow old with him.

"Come look at this" Donnie said, him speaking snapped you out of your daze. He looked at you concerned about what just happened, he dropped it when you gave me a slight shake of your head.

Standing up to look at his project, it was just the blueprints for upgrades for Sheldon. It all looked so cool, but you didn't understand most of it, Donnie was a genius and it showed.

"Wow! All of it is so interesting, can you explain it to me? " you loved indulging in his interests, even if you didn't understand it the way he talked about his tech was amazing. He looked happy whenever you asked him to talk about it, you wanted him to be happy, you knew his brothers didn't always listen and that was hard for him.

You understood just how difficult it was to talk when you knew people didn't listen. Thats one thing he loved about you, you made him feel heard and he could go on for hours, you would still be sitting there with the same amazed face you had an hour ago. You were the one person to completely understand him. Donnie wrapped his arms around your torso, cold hands reaching under your shirt wandering for some warmth. Gasping at his cold hands, he looked at you to make sure it was okay. You loved that about him, no matter what he did, he asked if it was okay with you and he never had hard feelings if it wasnt. You nodded to show it was okay, he went back to explaining the gist of what he was planning on building or adding onto his blueprints.

Your deep breaths alerted him to just how close his hands were on your stomach, he was close to the edge of your pants. His hands started getting clammy, realizing he could simply push past the band of your pants down to your panties. Instead of indulgin in his perverted thoughts, he just started squeezing your stomach and moving his hands onto your hips.

He did this a lot when you guys would cuddle, you thought none the wiser of him. Coughing to bring his head back into his projects, he was back to explaining it. The thoughts were still running through his mind by the time he was done talking about his projects, swiftly standing up and pushing both chairs out of the way.

“You drive me crazy,” his hands were still on your hips, under your shirt. “Wh-what?” he startled you, he didnt usually express what you do to him. He started massaging your hips, trying to get his thoughts in place. Sighing, he rested his forehead on yours “your voice, your body, the way you listen and love me. It drives me crazy, i never thought someone like me could pull someone like you,” he started slowly moving his hands upwards towards your chest, lifting your shirt as he went.

“Donnie, you know i love you for you, theres no changing that. I think we were made for each other and thats why you and me are together,” you kissed his nose, thats what you always did when he was talking like this. Surprising you he lifted your shirt off and kissed you, hard.

Moaning at how hot the kiss was, donnie pulling you in closer by your belt loops. His hips being pressed against yours meant one thing, you could feel his cock. It was slowly getting hard, you realized where this was going and you were very excited for it.

You felt his hands reach under your bra to cup your chest, squeezing every now and again.

One hand stayed on your chest while the other slowly made its way to your hip, holding you close to him, slightly grinding on you. He broke the kiss, heavily breathing into your mouth.

“Can we go farther, please,” he begged you, moaning the last word of his sentence. Both hands now on your hips, basically clawing at them, showing just how needy he was.

“Mhm, i want you Donnie, i need you,” sighing at the fact he was pushing you down onto his desk, his blue prints and stuff had been cleared off. Slowly laying down on the desk, he kept kissing your neck, leaning over you. He was leaving hickies and bite marks on his way down to your pants. Looking back up to make sure it was okay, only continuing when you nodded at his question.

He swiftly pulled your pants all the way off, leaving your panties still on. Getting a little red at the pair you had chosen, white with a tiny bow. Donnie softly laughed at the sight, finding it adorable that you had such cute panties. Lifting one leg onto his shoulder, he started sucking and biting your inner thigh leaving love bites and bruises on your thighs.

Deciding that he’d had enough of your panties blocking his view, he winked at you and ripped them off your body. Gasping at how cold the desk was against your ass, you looked back down at Donnie. He was softly caressing your thighs, the love in his eyes prevalent, the way he softly touched you and looked at your body. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” his beautiful brown eyes looking at you, daring you to say otherwise.

“Hm, i dont know donnie, maybe right now isnt the time for questions?” giggling at his habit of asking questions in the worst of times, only to moan at the fact he had pushed a finger into your wet center. “I dont know sweetheart, i think right now is the perfect time for questions,” he mumbled as he thrusted his fingers in and out, rubbing spots to see what noise youd make.

“So again, you know you’re beautiful right? Body and mind,” he kept thrusting, not going to give you a chance to really think about what to say. “Hmmm-m, donnie” moaning his name, his brutal pace not giving you a break. “Im sorry darling? That didnt seem to be answer,” he stopped his ministrations, looking at you, waiting for your answer. “nhnnmh” trying to force out an “mhm” for his question, he went back to his brutal, unforgiving pace. “That wasnt an answer,” stuffing another finger into your soppy cunt, “you’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart.” “I know,,hmmn- i’m beautiful” you gasped out, reeling from all the pleasure you were getting.

“Good girl, thank you for answering,” pulling out his fingers, shushing you as you whined at the loss of contact. Standing up, he pulled you closer to him so that your ass was barely on the table, he put your legs around his hips. He rubbed his cock on your folds, swiping past where you needed him most.

Finally pushing his cock into your cunt, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your center was practically sucking his cock in, squeezing at the burn of him stretching you open. Pushing your hips back onto him, trying to get as much of him in you as possible, he held your hips to keep you still. He wasnt prepared for the way you felt, the wet and warm feeling. His brain was short circuiting at how good you felt, slowly moving to test the waters.

You moaned at the feeling of him moving, feel his cock twitch inside of you at the noise you made. He decided to just go for it, not even slowly building up the gently pace, he thrusted hard and rough. He lost a bit of his composure, just lost in the pleasure and the noises you hadnt stopped making. Leaning over you, he bit you hard on your shoulder, suppressing the moans and grunts he was making. Making his way up your neck, giving you hard kisses anywhere he could, he finally made it to your lips.

Kissing you harder than he has, mainly to muffle out the loud moans and attempts at his name. Going harder, trying to get you to cum before he can, trying to put you first. Your moans themself could make him cum, he held out. He reached between the two of you to reach your clit, making infinity signs, making your legs shake and you to lose the rhythm you guys had between kisses. Pressing down harder and making tighter finger patterns, hearing your breath hitch and you saying you were close, he stopped. You whined at the fact he left you without cumming, to be honest you didnt know what would be worse, him edging you or over-stimulating you. You didnt have to guess which would be worse, you were about to find out as he went back to his abusive attack on your clit. He kept pressing harder, that familiar knot appearing in your stomach, you knew you were close to cumming. Hitting that one spot in your gummy cunt, making you cum hard, Donnie kept thrusting not caring about the fact you were being overstimulated. In fact, he went harder and faster to keep you shaking and overstimulated, he found it so hot at the way you were when overstimulated.

His insistance to keep thrusting and fucking you while you were overstimmed made you cry, it was too much. He found that certain spot in you and kept aiming and angeling his hips to hit that spot, making you cum twice more before he was even close. You could tell he was getting closer by him losing the rhythm, his hips stuttering everyonce in a while. You get grasping at his biceps, having nowhere else to brace yourself for his rough thrusts.

He angeled your legs to be higher up on his hips, just so he get hit your cervix over and over again. He was close, so fucking close but he didnt want to just cum and be over with it, he was getting so much pleasure and seeing you in so much pleasure only made him harder. He was finally about to cum, your legs were still locked around his hips, demanding for him to cum inside of you.

Reacing his high and cumming in you, his hips stuttering and pushing against your hips to reach your cervix. You moaned at the fact he came inside of you, only for him to overstimm himself and try to fuck your cervix even more. Slowing down to just keep his cock in you to keep his cum from leaking out. Leaning up to rest his forehead against yours, he whispered out and ‘i love you’ giving your nose a soft kiss.

Pulling out and silently reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of you and wipe your thighs down from where it was sticky his and your cum. Smiling gently and rubbing softly, he tossed the towel and grabbed your clothes. He made sure you knew you didnt have to do anything but just lay there and look pretty. Sliding on your panties and then your pants, he picked you up and while making sure the coast was clear, spedwalked to his room.

“Did you want to slip into something more comfortable?” laying you gently on his bed, looking at his dresser draws and then back at you. “Mhm, that would be nice Donnie,” you just looked at him lovingly, this showed just how much he cared about you. He went over and grabbed a purple hoodie and some black checkered pants, making sure you would be able to change by yourself while he went and cleaned himself off.

Coming back to you under the blankets and slowly dozing off, he slid under the covers and scooped you up into his arms. Petting your hair and giving you kisses against your head, you guys didnt need words half the time. You could communicate through touches and silent actions, this whole aftercare screamed “i love you” and you both felt it as you drifted off to sleep.

#ChaseWrites #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise!donnie #rise!donatello #rottmnt smut #I LOVE DONNIE SO MUCH OMG

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dees-writing-corner · 8 months

Text

forever and more - chapter 6

word count: 2270

pairing: ateez x fem!reader

warning: mentions of a decapitated head, slightly gory (?)

if anyone wants to be added to the taglist just message <3 it's almost been 6 months since I last posted anything on here. life's been hectic, I hope you all like this chapter 🤗

masterlist

Looking around, I noticed that I was no longer in the comfort of my own home but instead, standing in the middle of a dark forest.

“What. The. Hell.”

Making my way through the thick growth of trees, I halted to a stop at the sound of howling.

‘Crunch’

Snapping my head to the left, my eyes widened at the sight before me. Three large creatures stood tall. Their eyes were crimson, fangs barred as saliva dripped down their chins.

Looking down, a grimace made its way across my face as my eyes zoned in on the decapitated head in the hands of one of them. It was Hongjoong’s.

Cautiously, I took a couple of steps towards them, stopping when I could hear what they were saying.

“We can’t let them get the head.”

I watched, slightly mortified, as Hongjoong’s head was tossed into the air like a ball.

“No, we can’t.” The one holding the head grinned manically. “Not when they have killed our brothers.”

Hongjoong's head was tossed between their hands.

“We must find shelter. Before they track us down.”

Trailing behind them, I followed until they stopped at a small clearing, watching as they huddled together, probably deciding to stay there.

I glanced around my surroundings, taking note of the beds of small, bell-shaped flowers and red berries. I took a step forward to get a closer look before I felt something pull me away.

Snapping my eyes open, I let out a groan at the sudden brightness, my arm immediately covering my eyes as I got used to the light.

Several pairs of rushed footsteps made their way towards me as I felt a hand on the top of my head.

“Oh, thank gods.” I heard Wooyoung let out a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? How are you feeling? Wait. Don’t answer that. You almost gave me a heart attack when you fainted. I thought that -”

Removing my arm, I glanced at Wooyoung, who knelt beside me, “Woo, please stop talking. Your rambling is giving me a headache.”

Wooyoung gave me a sheepish smile as he helped me sit up on the couch.

Glancing around me, I noticed all of them staring at me, worry evident in their eyes.

Clearing my throat, I noticed the absence of San, Yunho and a certain ‘ghost’.

“Where are San, Yunho and Hongjoong?”

“They’re in the office upstairs. Talking.” Seonghwa placed a mug of camomile tea in my hands. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

Sipping on the tea, I gradually felt the tension leave my shoulders.

“Thanks, Seonghwa. I think I’m going to head upstairs. I want to talk to Hongjoong about something.”

“What is it?”

Slightly startled, I glared up at the blond man who appeared before me.

“Can you not! I’m still wrapping my head around this whole supernatural thing. You appearing out of thin air is not helping!”

Hongjoong chuckled softly as I felt hands on my shoulders, slightly massaging them.

“Sorry, I just heard you say my name. What’s up?”

Looking back, I noticed San and Yunho had joined us. Giving them a small smile, I turned back to look at Hongjoong.

“I think I found your head.”

He blinked owlishly at me, quirking an eyebrow, “You what?”

“Wait a second.” I looked up to Yunho. “We know where the head is, well, who it’s with anyway. San and I went for it earlier but -”

Cutting him off, I shook my head, “Yeah, I got that, but I know where the head is now. Where they brought it after your attack.”

Looking at their faces, I could see the apprehension in their eyes and sighed, “When I walked up the stairs, my eyes landed on the picture of a forest and then I fainted, yes?” Seeing them nod, I carried on. “When I fainted, I had a, um, a vision? Of some sort. I saw where the three werewolves went after Yunho and San tried to, uh, to get the head back.”

Setting down the mug on the coffee table, I stood up and made my way up into the attic, ignoring them telling me to slow down.

“They decided to camp at a small clearing in the forest, not sure where exactly but -”

“How useful.”

Hearing Jongho’s small mutter, I sent him a glare before looking through the bookshelves for a specific journal.

“Anyways, there were a lot of Lily of the Valley around. I remember one of the journals mentioning that there was an abundance of them somewhere in the forest. If I could just find that journal, then we’d know the exact location of the clearing.”

Spotting the black journal, I plucked it out and quickly flipped through the pages, stopping when I saw a drawing of the flower and berries.

Eyes scanning the page, I pointed to the exact coordinates of the clearing, “Here.”

Flipping the journal around, I showed the coordinates to the others.

“Okay,” Yunho looked up, nodding to Yeosang. “Yeo and I will head over there now.”

“Don’t.” Quickly putting a hand on Yunho’s shoulder, I shook my head. “Go tomorrow evening. The remaining three of the pack are tense. They’re on high alert right now. You need to wait.”

Yeosang opened his mouth to protest, but I held a hand up, “Tomorrow. It’s too dangerous right now.”

Ignoring everyone else, I held onto Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s arms, pulling them down the stairs.

“You guys rest or whatever it is you do at this time of night. I have something I want to go over with these two in the basement.”

Once we reached the round table, I let go of their arms and just stared at the table.

“Ahem,” Hearing Seonghwa clear his throat, I turned my head towards him. “Why are Woo and I here?”

I shook my head, before looking at the shelf filled with jars.

“I want to do something. This is giving me a sense of déjà vu right now. And it’s not the good type.”

Browsing the shelf, I plucked out a jar of black talc, dragon’s blood, frankincense, myrrh and salt.

Placing them on the table, I grabbed a couple of empty sachets from the side of the table as Wooyoung and Seonghwa looked at the jars.

Wooyoung picked up the jar of dragon’s blood and turned to me, “What are you going to do?”

Shrugging, I started to mix the ingredients in a ceramic bowl, “I don’t know. Working on a feeling right now.”

Recognition flashed through Seonghwa’s eyes as he watched me carefully add a few drops of dragon’s blood to the powder.

“You’re making a protection ward, you used t-” Cutting himself off, Seonghwa shook his head. “It’s a protection ward. It creates a barrier between the person using it and the person with bad intentions. As long as there is no gap in the powder scattered around, the barrier will stay intact.”

Putting the powder into the separate sachets, I nodded, “Hmm, but why do I know this? It’s not like I’ve had a crash course for witchcraft.”

Letting out a yawn, I put the filled sachets on the table.

“Let's head to bed, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Moving back, I looked between the two, “Are you two staying down here or?”

“We’ll stay. Wooyoung and I want to make a couple things for them tomorrow.”

Nodding tiredly, I pressed a kiss on both Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s cheeks before my brain could even register what I was doing.

Blinking, I could feel heat rush to my face, “So, um – I don’t - I’m just gonna –Goodnight!”

Rushing up the stairs, I missed the way their eyes trailed my figure. Emotions that they had to push down for so long, forcing their way back to the surface.

Lying on the bed, my mind kept replaying my actions in the basement. The kiss I pressed on their cheeks. The action felt so familiar, it felt like a habit, something that I had done millions of times in the past. But that wasn’t possible, was it?

Groaning, I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep and forget how out of character I was.

Running a hand through my hair, I watched as Yunho and Yeosang made their way down the stairs.

“You two ready?”

Seeing them nod, I pulled out the sachets from my pocket and handed them one each.

Yeosang peered into the contents of it, “What’s this?”

“Protection ward. Scatter it around you when you need it, prevents people with bad intentions from harming you.” Pacing around, I started rambling a bit. “Also, I know you guys are very skilled, but please be careful. Those werewolves are very angry, they’re still shifted. Make sure you’re aware of your surroundings and have each oth -”

Feeling someone hold onto my shoulders, I halted to a stop. Looking up, I was met with Yeosang smiling down at me.

“Relax. This isn’t the first time we’ve gone hunting. We know what we’re doing.”

Nodding, I let out a small breath, “I gathered, but this is the first time I am seeing you off or whatever. I don’t know why but I, once again, am feeling a great sense of déjà vu, which makes absolutely no sense.”

Waving at the two, I ushered them out the door, “Go and get Hongjoong’s head, yeah? And please come back unscathed.”

I watched as the two retreated into the woods surrounding the manor, closing the door once they were nowhere in sight.

Yeosang and Yunho carefully trudged through the forest, eyes ahead as they concentrated on the sounds surrounding them.

Slowing, Yeosang lifted a finger up to his ear, indicating Yunho to listen. The faint sound of twigs snapping drifted through the air. The two vampires immediately reached to their backs, holding onto the handles of their swords as they stood back-to-back.

“Well look what we have here.” A voice broke through from their left.

“They think they can just take the head, after what they did to our brothers.” Another from their right.

Yeosang sank his left hand into his back pocket, quickly grasping some of the protection powder from the sachet. He and Yunho slowly moved in a circle, scattering the powder around them.

‘Bang’

The last werewolf launched at them, only for the ward to throw him back. The other two let out growls at the sight of one of their own being thrown back.

“Look,” Yunho started, “Just give us the head, and we’ll be on our way.”

The one thrown back stalked his way over to the barrier, growling.

“Now, why would we do that? After what you did yesterday?”

Magenta flickered through Yunho’s eyes as he stared at the werewolf, a scowl etched on his face.

“After what WE did? You were the one who started this Garett. YOU were the one that broke the pact when you allied with the Faeries.”

A chuckle erupted from Garett as he started to circle Yunho and Yeosang.

“You guys think you’re so powerful, huh? So strong? Having a Circe descendant on your side. Being her bitches. Too bad she doesn’t remember who you are. Maybe I could get her to -”

With a blink of an eye, Yeosang had Garett pinned to a tree by his throat as Yunho held back the other two. Their eyes shining magenta.

“Don’t you EVER talk about her like that.”

Garett simply smirked up at Yeosang, “You really are her bitches. All of you.”

Yeosang hissed at him as he pulled out a blade, “You’re gonna wish you stopped talking real soon, bud.”

Pacing around in the living room, I chewed at my lips as the rest of the boys were scattered through the house.

“Will you stop pacing? You’re giving me a headache here.” Jongho groaned as he stood up from the couch, reaching for my shoulders and pulling me into him. “Relax, they’re more than capable to deal with a few werewolves. Also, they can’t die, remember. So, calm down, αγάπη μου.”

Melting into his embrace, I let out a deep breath before stepping away from him.

“Okay, how long does it normally take for -”

“We’ve got the head!”

Hearing the door shut and footsteps coming our way, I turned my head to the archway, face contorting in disgust when I caught sight of Yunho and Yeosang.

“Please tell me none of that’s your blood.”

The two were truly a sight. They were covered in blood, not a single patch of skin was clean.

“Don’t worry, it was theirs.” Yunho shook his free hand around before handing Hongjoong’s head to Seonghwa. “You might wanna clean that before you put it on the table downstairs. It's got a bit of blood, saliva and mud on it.”

Seonghwa grimaces as he took out a pair of gloves from his pocket.

“You two look like you took a bath in their blood.”

Watching Seonghwa leave, my attention went back to the two dripping blood everywhere.

“Why don’t you two take a shower first, you’re getting blood all over the new carpet I bought.”

Yeosang and Yunho made their way upstairs, as Hongjoong appeared beside me.

“So,” I raised a hand to put on Hongjoong’s shoulder, even though I knew it would probably go through him. “What’s the next step?”

Pausing, my gaze met Hongjoong’s before they landed on the hand that was resting on his shoulder, “And why hasn’t my hand gone through you?”

taglist: @marievllr-abg @jackinmyarea @lexiigom @nichobins @babyhailey819 @darkdayelixer @starillusion13 @lilactangerine @jwnghyuns @watermelon-sugars-things @tunaasan

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whump-card · 7 months

Text

Sunless Lives Part 29: I Will Take You Home

~2270 words

CW: discussion of suicide (but we know it’s actually the) aftermath of attempted murder by drugging, sedation, medical setting

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

“Captain Isles!”

Matthew’s voice boomed through the parking garage. He’d been loitering by Isles’ white Lincoln Aviator for the last hour, waiting for the Captain to get out of work.

“Beck.” Isles slowed his approach, stopping a few yards away from Matthew.

“I want to see Simon,” Matthew demanded, “I hear you’re the man to talk to.”

Isles nodded slowly.

“He wants to see you too.”

This response caught Matthew off guard.

“You’ll let me?”

“You, and getting out, were all he would ever ask about, before…” He trailed off, looking away.

“How is he?” Matthew asked, his voice a little softer.

“Not good,” Isles admitted, “They keep him pretty sedated for his own safety, and it’s… not pretty.”

“When can I see him?”

Isles met his gaze, solemn and steady.

“I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

~~~

Matthew walked quickly enough to make the visitor’s tag bounce where it was clipped to the collar of his light spring jacket. Isles strode alongside him, grim and quiet, as they were led by an orderly through twisting hallways and multiple security doors. The building had a hint of dinginess and a heavy silence aside from their footsteps that made Matthew nervous.

“How much research did you do on this place before you put him here?” Matthew asked.

“It’s the only facility on the east coast that’s impervious to vampires,” Isles replied, “That was all that mattered to me. At the time.”

Matthew believed in the level of security. They had passed armed guards with dogs outside, and they each had to do a blood test at reception before being let through a pair of heavy gates.

It all hardly mattered if someone was in more danger from themselves than a vampire.

They rounded a corner and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat fell into step with them.

“Captain Isles, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” The doctor was obviously trying to sound pleased to see Isles, and was failing miserably. “Who’s your friend?”

Isles slowed his pace considerably.

“Dr Deckard, this is… Matthew Beck.”

The doctor stopped short.

“Captain, I thought we were in agreement that Beck’s presence would be dangerous for Simon.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Isles said flatly.

Matthew watched the exchange, a little offended that neither were directly acknowledging him.

“Simon is far too vulnerable for this right now, this is something I’d need weeks to prepare him for, at the very least.” Dr Deckard was arguing, but shrinking back at the same time, fiddling with his tie and running a hand through his thin hair. In contrast, Isles stood tall and radiated authority.

“I think I get the final say here,” the Captain said.

“Y-yes, of course.” Dr Deckard finally cast Matthew a brief glance, then turned on his heel to lead them onwards. “This way, gentlemen.”

Simon’s room was only a few doors further; Dr Deckard unlocked it with a keycard and held the door for Isles and Matthew. Matthew’s heart pounded as he followed the Captain in. Four months. He hadn’t seen Simon in four months, and now they were going to be in the same room together. Would he panic? Would Simon panic? Or would it be joyful? Would they kiss? Would Simon reject him? Would -

Simon lay on his back in the bed, his head turned towards them and his eyes closed. His expression was soft, peaceful, and his face was full and round like it should be, not the gaunt shadowy thing Matthew had seen last. His wrists were restrained to the bed frame, but the straps were thickly padded and not too tight.

He looked okay. Not horrible, not perfect, but safe. Alive.

The only thing that caught Matthew off guard was Simon’s hair: it had been shaved recently, and was currently a shadow of peach fuzz.

“His hair, what-” he mumbled, unable to look away from Simon’s unconscious form.

“After he took the pills, he fell and hit his head rather badly. We needed his hair out of the way to stitch it up.” Dr Decker explained, watching Matthew carefully.

“Pills?” A lump formed in Matthew’s throat.

“Yes. He stole them from the pharmacy.”

Matthew took a shuddering breath.

“Is he - will he wake up? Can I talk to him?”

“He’ll be foggy, but yes. But you should know,” Dr Deckard warned, “He’s been quite the chronic liar during his stay here. I wouldn’t put much stock in anything he says, particularly under the effects of the sedative.”

Simon: a liar, a thief, and suicidal. Matthew couldn’t wrap his head around it. He pulled up a chair and sat as close as he could to Simon’s bedside, right in front of Simon’s face. Isles and the doctor hung back, observing.

“Simon?” Matthew reached over and took Simon’s hand in his. It was limp and cool. “Simon, I’m here.” Simon’s fingers twitched and Matthew gave them a gentle squeeze. Simon’s eyelids fluttered and Matthew’s heart soared.

“There you are, there you are.”

Simon’s eyes opened, and met Matthew’s.

Nothing.

Simon stared blankly, with no recognition. Matthew’s guts twisted and plunged with horror, and he sat frozen for a long second. Then three. Then five.

Then Simon’s eyes widened.

“Mm’thew,” he whispered.

Matthew sobbed with relief.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m here!”

“Matthew,” Simon rasped, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

I’m sorry, Matthew, I didn’t mean it, please don’t be mad -

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Matthew soothed, suppressing the memory, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” He twisted in his seat to glare at Isles.

“We’re taking him home. Today.”

Isles shook his head.

“There are still vampires-”

“Fuck the list!” Matthew snapped, and Simon’s fingers flinched within his, “This place is going to kill him before any of them do.”

“Simon is in a very fragile state at the moment,” Dr Deckard cut in, “I would not recommend moving him.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Simon was still whispering apologies.

Isles looked back and forth between them all, conflicted.

“Cap, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

Isles’ gaze settled on Simon, his brow heavy. He took a short breath.

“Fine. But he stays with me.”

That was good enough for Matthew. He turned back to Simon.

“You hear that? You’re…” But then he heard what Simon was saying.

“I cheated on you, I’m so sorry Matthew, I cheated on you, I had to…”

“Woah, hey,” Matthew reached out to caress Simon’s head with his free hand, “What do you mean, what happened?”

“With, with an orderly, Matthew, I had to,” mumbled Simon. Matthew’s head snapped back around to glare at Dr Deckard.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

“Like I said,” Dr Deckard shrugged innocently, “He lies, for attention, to try and get special treatment. What he’s saying is impossible, the whole facility is covered in cameras that are observed at all times, and all our staff and faculty are thoroughly vetted. I’m sorry, but he’s lying to you.”

“Why would he tell me a lie that would upset me?”

“More likely, he’s trying to make me and the employees here look bad.” the doctor smiled sadly. “It’s not uncommon for patients like him to have a victim complex. You coming to rescue him and infantilize him is exactly what he wants. I strongly recommend against removing him from my care at this time.”

“Isles?” Matthew looked to the Captain. Isles turned to Dr Deckard.

“Please bring me whatever paperwork I need to have him released,” he requested.

“Alright, but you’re just going to bring him back in a week or so when you realize you can’t handle him, and I’ll have to start back at square one.”

“Just do it. Please.”

Dr Deckard left in a huff. Matthew ignored him, turning his attention back to Simon. Simon had fallen back asleep, tears dried on his face, so Matthew just gently stroked his knuckles and his brow and waited. Eventually a nurse arrived with a clipboard full of paperwork for Isles. After that, everything happened rather quickly. A wheelchair was brought, and a pair of orderlies unstrapped Simon from the bed and moved him to the chair. Matthew winced when he saw the back of Simon’s head when it lolled forward; there was a line of thick stitches. Then Simon lifted his head, and mumbled incoherent questions as they wheeled him out of the building. Matthew stuck right by him, speaking soothing words and touching his shoulder. It felt like they were doing something illegal, somehow, as they ushered him quickly out of the maw of the fortress and to the sunny parking lot. Matthew shooed the orderlies away and lifted Simon into Isles’ car himself, and got in the back seat with him. Isles got into the driver’s seat, depositing a plastic bag full of Simon’s winter clothes from four months ago into the passenger seat. Matthew buckled Simon in then laid him down with his head on Matthew’s thigh. Simon's eyes blinked open, glassy and soft.

“Are we going home?” he murmured.

Matthew wondered what ‘home’ he was imagining - the VIU? Their Boston studio? Maybe even Lara’s house, or his childhood home.

“You’re going to stay with Isles for a while,” Matthew said as the car started to move, “You’re never going back to Summerwhite, okay?”

Simon’s foggy gaze drifted across Matthew’s face.

“Which one are you?” he mumbled, his brows pinching slightly.

“I…” Matthew glanced up at Isles - the captain was focused on the road. “It’s me, Simon. I’m human, it’s me.”

“Oh… Good.” But Simon didn’t sound relieved. Mildly disturbed, Matthew stroked Simon’s face in what he hoped was a calming way. Simon relaxed a little, his forehead softening and his eyes fluttering closed.

Fort Summerwhite was an hour and a half west of DC, and they made good time to Isles’ house. The two bedroom blue craftsman was tiny, but having a detached home with its own backyard this close to the capitol was a massive luxury. Matthew scooped Simon up and carried him up the steps to the wide porch bridal style while Isles unlocked the door.

“Put him in my room for now, in the back to the right,” Isles said, holding open the door, “It’ll take me a minute to set up the pull-out.”

Matthew made his way to Isles’ bedroom, his arms straining under Simon’s weight. His healthy weight, he reminded himself, not like -

Pressing his fingers into the indents of ribs. Pinching skin just to watch how long it took the color to come back.

Matthew laid Simon down on Isle’s bed and jumped back like he’d been burned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Not now. Get it together.

He double checked that Simon was lying comfortably and hurried back out of the bedroom. He took a moment to glance around the house; he’d never been there before. It smacked of someone who wanted to look like marriage material, but hadn’t quite stuck the landing. It was a little over decorated here, a little under decorated there. Lots of beiges and blues and Target throw pillows. He found Isles in the second bedroom that he had outfitted as an office, unfolding a small couch out into a bed. Matthew wordlessly assisted, catching the extension and lowering it down.

“Now I just need to remember where I stashed the sheets for this thing,” Isles muttered.

“Do you have enough food for two people? If you don’t mind me borrowing your car, I could make a grocery run,” Matthew offered, eager to help in any way he could think of.

“Actually, Beck… Matthew, I…” Isles looked at him, searching for the words. Matthew’s heart sank.

“No.”

“Matthew, I’m going to follow Dr Deckard’s recommendation. I don’t think you should be around Simon.”

“I’m not a vampire anymore! I pose no threat, none at all.”

“You still pose a threat to his mental health,” Isles argued, “I don’t want you playing with his emotions.”

“Playing with his emotions? Cap, you really think I would do that?” Matthew asked, incredulous. “I love him, I need to be here for him!”

Isles paused, frowning - but didn’t budge.

“No. You need to call someone to come pick you up, I don’t want you here when he comes to.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Matthew demanded, raising his voice. “Shouldn’t Simon get a say in this?”

“Yes, I’m serious!” Isles’ voice was immediately louder than his, “And Simon is under my custody, it’s my responsibility to keep him safe.”

“You really think I’m that dangerous?”

“Yes!” Isles hollered, “Now get out of my house before I have you arrested for trespassing!”

Matthew froze. He was still on probation from the rehab facility, any trouble with the law and he would go right back. No phone calls. No dad. And an even slimmer chance of getting to see Simon again.

“What even was this, then?” he asked, his voice wobbling, “Why even let me come with you?”

Isles glowered at him.

“It was a mistake. He’s better off without you.”

“No, I…”

“He’s better off. Without you.”

Letting Isles see him cry would be beyond humiliating, so Matthew turned and fled. He pulled his phone out of his pocket - an old smartphone with a cracked screen that his dad had enough foresight to resurrect and set up for him before he got out - and dialed Gina.

“Yellow?”

“I’m at Isles’, can you come pick me up?” Matthew sobbed.

“I can come right now. What happened?”

“I can’t, I can’t, please, just… Get here soon.”

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives #sunless lives arc 3 #cw discussion of suicide #cw sedation #aftermath of whump #cw medical setting

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serenailith · 1 year

Text

i’ll take care of you

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: d3, “i can’t lose you again” Rating: g Word Count: 2270 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags: wingfic, hurt/comfort, hob takes care of dream and all is right with the world Summary:

The first time had been dreadful. Their centennial meeting gone awry, watching Dream storm out into the thunderous rain, his midnight wings held high and proud despite the glimmer still in his eyes. The next appointed time passing with no sign of his Stranger, and Hob remembers the weight of his own wings as he waited, as they drooped further with each passing second. His foolishness, his audacity to believe he could ever be the same as his Stranger, had cost him more than meetings with another immortal.

It cost him a constant in his life.

He’d lost his Stranger for his careless stupidity.

And now, now, he is losing his Love

Link: on ao3

masterlist

Hob stares in abject horror at the shadow plummeting toward the ground dozens of feet below. The midnight-black wings don’t flare out as they’re meant to, they don’t slow the descent, and Dream continues falling. Shaking himself free from the terror—lessening the grip of it on his heart enough to move—Hob tucks his own wings close and flings himself off the top of the cliff. He swoops and dives and swerves around the creatures desperate for a taste of his flesh.

He mostly ignores the battle raging on around him, though he takes a second to slice at a beast’s ragged wing with the knife clutched tightly in his hand. The creature shrieks and swirls down into the abyss, gnashing yellowed sharp teeth the entire way down. Death shouts out a breathless “Thanks!” before moving on to rescue Despair from the cluster surrounding her.

This isn’t meant to be happening. He and Dream were meant to be curled up together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the stereo played some old, slow jazz number that Dream would pretend to dislike. They were supposed to be going to bed together and imagining their future—bright and happy and revolving around one another. That’s the way it’s meant to be.

Instead, Dream had gotten the call from Desire moments before disaster struck. They’d been flying home and got turned around in a storm. They had just realised where they ended up when they were attacked. It had taken Dream less than three seconds after the distress signal to leap off the balcony of the flat, and Hob had followed without hesitation. Desire may be selfish and manipulative at best, but they are still Dream’s sibling. They are Hob’s family.

Destiny had been the one to reach Desire first, followed swiftly by Desire’s twin. Instead of the usual glum expression on Despair’s face, now there is determination. Anger. Hatred.

Delirium bounces between groups of creatures; her brilliant rainbow-dashed wings fold close to guard herself as she careens and slams into the winged beasts. There is no grim expression on her face; no, there is only delight as she knocks first one then another creature out of the sky.

Dream still falls.

Hob gasps, breaths shuddering, as his wings rise and fall even more quickly. The cold wind stings his eyes, his cheeks, and it whips his hair around his face. The stench of decay fills his nose as he struggles against the air currents, fights to get closer.

He fails. It doesn’t stop him, but he fails. Dream is going to hit the ground, and Hob can’t change a damn thing. He fails, he fails, he fails.

A large figure slams into Dream’s side, and the pair goes tumbling ’round and ’round until the newcomer rights them. Hob draws himself up short, staring as the figure speeds toward the ground, wings spread wide. Drawing in a shaking breath, Hob launches himself forward even as the man—because that’s what the figure is, a looming mass of man—comes to a stumbling stop amongst the rocks and skeletal remains.

Hob lands just as roughly. “Unhand him.”

“Relax,” the man bites out before kneeling, lowering Dream to the ground. “I mean him no harm.”

“Then step away from him.”

The red-haired man raises his hands in surrender and does as Hob has ordered. Hob waits with knife held aloft then hurriedly makes his way to Dream’s side with his gaze firmly on the unfamiliar man. He doesn’t move, so Hob spares a second to glance at Dream.

His face is paler, ashen, too lax. Even while resting, not sleeping, never sleeping, Dream has never been so slack like this. Hob collapses to his knees and lets his blade clatter against the bones and stones. His hands tremble violently as he reaches for Dream’s cheeks, runs his fingers down the expanse of his body.

“Please, please, Dream… Love, dearest, please come back to me.”

“Is he…?”

“He’s fine. He’s fine. He has to be,” Hob whispers—whimpers. “My heart, please. I can’t lose you again.”

It cost him a constant in his life.

He’d lost his Stranger for his careless stupidity.

And now, now, he is losing his Love.

“Dream. I—”

What? What is Hob besides shattering apart? What is he except losing Dream again, and at his own hands? His own failure. First had been his desperate attempt to connect. Now it was his desperate attempt to save Dream. Both times had failed, and he is left alone once more.

“Hob.”

Hob glances back over his shoulder at the man’s rumble, mouth opening to ask, but the man gestures. Hob turns to face Dream—Dream, whose eyes are open and blood-stained lips parted. Dream who reaches with one shaking hand for Hob’s, and Hob clings to the cool touch as tightly as he can.

The screeches have died out, he notices vaguely, and he hopes it means those ragged-winged bastards are dead. He gives Dream a tremulous smile and curls his wings around the two of them. The man behind Hob needs not a show. Hob leans down to kiss the crimson lips he thought he’d never kiss again. Metallic tang blooms between them, on his tongue; a tear slips from his eyes to land on Dream’s pale cheek.

Dream closes his eyes and exhales shakily. “All is well,” he croaks out, and Hob huffs out a humourless laugh.

“You nearly died.”

“Desire—”

“We can worry about Desire later. They have your siblings defending them. You… You had no one.”

“I had you,” Dream replies, voice crackling but words seeming so easy.

“You always will.”

“Hob.”

He lowers one wing to glare at the man, this unfamiliar man with red hair pulled back into a low ponytail. “What?”

“I must speak with my Brother.”

“Brother?”

Dream exhales, and Hob looks back in time to see the watery blue of his eyes and the ever-brightening smile on his lips. “Destruction.”

Hob hesitates, wings coming up to cover him and Dream once more, then he sighs. Kisses Dream again. Destruction doesn’t move even when Hob reluctantly moves away from his love of the last five years. Dream’s brother’s fire-red wings, each feather tipped with grey, stay tucked close to his side as he finally steps forward.

Hob can’t hear what the two talk about, but whatever it is, it brings another smile to Dream’s lips. After a few minutes, Dream lets out a shuddering breath, and his eyes slip closed. Destruction scoops Dream into his arms and glances at Hob.

“You’ll have to lead me.”

“I’ll—”

“I can carry my brother, Hob.” Destruction sighs, and when he looks back at Hob, his eyes are softer. “I understand your worry, but I said I would do no harm to him. I meant it.”

“Follow me,” Hob mutters after a moment, moving closer to press a kiss to Dream’s forehead.

Destruction holds his brother closer on take-off, and Hob hurries to follow. Even over the wind, he can hear the small whimpers coming from Dream, each jostle of his wings clearly bringing pain to the surface. Hob swallows harshly and comes to a stop; his wings flap just enough to keep him aloft as he scans the horizon.

There is no sign of the rest of the Endless, no sign of the winged creatures that first attacked Desire. Hob hopes his family is okay even as he flies in the direction of home. The others can take care of themselves; Dream needs him.

Destruction carefully lays his brother on the sofa before stepping back. Hob realises belatedly that it’s so he can be there, he can sit at Dream’s side and care for him. So he does exactly that: He drops to his knees beside the sofa, holds onto Dream’s hand, and orders Destruction to make tea and gather hot water while Hob examines the being he fell in love with so long ago.

Dream’s torso bears dozens of cuts, skin sliced by razor-sharp claws, and a mottled bruise that takes up one entire side—most likely from where Destruction slammed into him in order to catch him. Once Destruction has brought a large bowl full of warm water and a cloth, Hob begins dabbing carefully at the clotting blood around the wounds. The ichor, speckled with tiny pinpricks of silver, comes away with the gentle scrubbing.

His left wing is bent awkwardly, and Hob needs no more than a second to recognise it as broken. His heart lurches in his chest at the sight. It isn’t the first broken wing he’s ever seen. He’s lived too damn long and been through too damn much for that to be the case. But it’s the first time he’s seen a broken wing on someone he loves so goddamn fiercely. He orders—no, asks—Destruction to bring something to make a splint.

Hob is no medic; he’d much rather have someone experienced doing this, but Dream loathes hospitals. Says he hates the stench of antiseptic, hates the dying that clings to the walls and permeates the air. The only good thing, he says, is sometimes he sees his Sisters.

Eventually, all that’s left is waiting. Waiting for Dream to wake, waiting for him to heal. Waiting for him to come back to Hob where he belongs.

Destruction leaves half an hour later, promising to come back soon. “I… I need to speak to the others.”

“Go. I’ll phone Desire if there’s a change.”

‘Waiting’, as it turns out, is a living Hell. Hob sits on the floor between the sofa and coffee table, his back pressed against the frame of the couch, and counts the seconds. Five thousand, seven hundred, and twenty-two seconds later, Dream’s breathing hitches. It stutters. Then he’s letting out a bitten-off shriek through clenched teeth, and Hob is clambering to his knees to soothe his lover.

“Hey, it’s—it’s okay, love. You’re okay. You’re home.”

“It… Hob—!”

“I know it hurts.”

And that frightens Hob most of all. He’s seen Dream brush off more than this before. For this to hurt as bad as it does… What the fuck were those creatures? Hob has never seen anything like them before. With thin grey fur and sharp teeth, leathery shredded wings and long needle-thin claws… They are unfamiliar to him.

He makes a gentle shushing noise as he tenderly moves Dream’s uninjured wing aside; a strangled noise escapes him at the sight that greets him. The skin around the cuts is puffy, violently red and angry-looking. Hob promises to be right back and half-stumbles, half-runs to find the first aid kit. He isn’t sure if anything he has will do any good, but it’s worth a try.

He spends the next four hours cleaning the wounds and applying ointment, soothing Dream as he all but screams at the touch. Hob’s heart breaks each time he hears the rawness in Dream’s throat, the vicious cracks in the sound.

Thankfully, the pain seems to ease by the time the fifth hour rolls around. Dream no longer screams; he lies as peacefully as he possibly can on the sofa with his injured wing held to his side carefully, and the swelling in his skin has receded. Hob applies one last thick layer of antiseptic ointment before setting the now-empty tube aside.

Dream doesn’t bother opening his eyes as he blindly reaches out, but it matters not. Hob clings to him immediately. The pair stays quiet for a long moment before Dream’s head turns. His blue eyes are hazy with the vestiges of his pain, and his voice breaks as he asks after Desire.

“Destruction went to check on them. I’m meant to let the others know when you wake.”

“Not yet,” Dream whispers, sighs. “Want this.”

“Peace?”

“You.”

“Oh, love.”

Hob brushes a kiss to the back of Dream’s hand before resting it on his chest. Dream frowns and watches Hob rise to his feet. Hob leaves his side for only a moment, only to go to the bedroom; he can’t stay away for long. It hurts something in him to stay away from Dream.

When he comes back, he drags the coffee table closer. Lowering himself to sit on the edge, Hob brings Dream’s uninjured wing into his lap and runs his fingers lightly through the feathers. Dream shudders, wincing when it disrupts his wounds, and lets out a soft keening sound when Hob does it again.

He meticulously sets each feather right, smooths out any rumpled ones, and then reaches for the vial of oil. There’s enough already on Dream’s wing, but he needs this. Hob knows it. So he coats his fingers in the slick liquid and works it into the feathers, where they meet the flesh. Dream’s eyes flutter shut and stay that way as Hob cleans and oils the wing as well as he’s able.

By the time he finishes, Dream is asleep, and Hob sighs to himself before slowly standing. He might as well let Dream’s siblings know. The peace can wait.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream of the endless x hob gadling #dream x hob #dreamling #wingfic #my writing #dreamling bingo

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shnargo · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can I request either prompt e or k from the soulmate at prompt list for tasm!peter Parker! I think either one would be super cute for him!!! I love your writing by the way!! ❤️

Mixed Up

pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x [female! & soulmate!] reader

dynamic: ex-best friends to enemies to lovers :)

summary: Peter hasn't seen you in years that grew his resentment, but suddenly you turn up at a high-end party he attended only for a mission. Maybe you're not the same person he thought you were.

warnings: allusions to being an escort & mild description of injuries / violence. lightly beta-read so there might be mistakes :O

word count: 2270

a/n: thank you! although i do think i took a completely different route with this than you were expecting, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. i also made the reader female to fit the story better, so i hope you don't mind :)

e...sp (soulmates can sense one another’s presence and feel each other’s exact emotions even when miles away).

The crowd was bustling with the rich and upper class folk alike, all in all stuffy people he’d rather not associate with were it not for the knowledge that Kingpin would be attending. After knocking out some entitled guy with similar tailor measurements— he’d be sparing the kid from ruining his father’s reputation which he considered good enough payment— he was easily able to blend into the crowd. The plan was mainly to scope the grounds, keep an ear out for any nefarious plots skulking about and handle it accordingly.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be hanging off the crime lord’s arm as eye-candy.

Peter didn’t meet you until after he got together with Gwen. You had come in 20 minutes late to science class and when the teacher confronted you with a tone that was extraordinarily condescending, you didn’t hesitate to bite back with a snarky answer yourself which landed you in detention. Once you took your seat beside him, he couldn’t keep an amused smile from the interaction to which you responded with a raised eyebrow and the query of ‘what the hell he was smiling like a dork for’. To say that you became fast friends would be an understatement— the truth of the matter was, he would’ve trusted you with his life despite knowing you for a little less than a year. After graduation, he swore to himself that he would tell you the truth about his alter-ego.

But then you disappeared. At least, until now.

Honestly, if he wasn’t so close to you before, he wouldn’t recognize you now. Gone was the outspoken, wildly expressive teenager he once knew, and there before him stood someone with practiced, careful movements paired with a demure expression that knew when to give a smile when needed. This is what you left him without a word for— a high life amongst two-faced people you had once swore you disdained. Maybe he didn’t know you after all, but that left something bitter in his chest once the initial shock had faded away. He forced the grimace off his face; he was here for work after all. So heading into the fray, Peter went to mingle with the others and get something substantial enough so he could leave shortly after.

You saw him across the room at the beginning of the evening. Peter Parker, your closest friend, confidant, something you were never able to have due to your background until it was viciously ripped away from you. But worst of all, he was your soulmate who was too close but too far as they say. You only wished you could’ve met him before Gwen did, but you had little time to ruminate on what ‘if’s.

The world never made living easy for you. Since you were a child, you were living in and out of homes due to parents with checkered histories of their own. It wasn’t until after high school that their debts caught up to you, and you were forced to get caught up in muddy deals and sketchy criminals at best. But damn it, if you weren’t anything but stubborn which is the main reason you stood where you were today. You learned, even if it meant sacrificing every piece of yourself to stay alive. Still, you never gave yourself up completely, since you only came to this party to work out intel to have Kingpin’s syndicate slowly but surely crumble from the inside out.

So you hung off the man’s arm, laughing to appease the masses, but your eyes kept careful track of your hazelnut haired friend. He shouldn’t be here, and you knew for a fact he noticed you when you felt that surge of resentment pass over you. You just hoped he felt the guilt in return.

When the music began to play, partners were switched off to encourage acquaintanceship and cordial terms before business ventures began. To your surprise, Peter walked up to you, extending his hand in an offer to dance. Never showing more than a quirk of your lips, you rested your hand onto his and followed his lead.

Not a word was said at first. The both of you merely matched the pace of others, but you could feel animosity swath over you with each step you took. His grip was too tight, his eyes were piercing, and he looked like he had too much to say. And to further his frustration, you didn’t seem to bat an eye.

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.” You cut through the tension as the dance slowed, speaking softly by his ear. He shivered.

“So now she speaks.” You’re sure he felt the exasperation that ran through you as his lips pursed.

“And you should listen.” Leaning back, you looked into his eyes. “You should leave when you can, before it’s too late.”

“Before your great king decides that I’m not good company?” His narrowed eyes shot a glance at the man who was easily dwarfing his own partner. “I think I can handle myself fine.”

“You don’t know what he has planned-”

“Oh and of course you do? You sure had plans when you up and left without a single word. You didn’t even say goodbye.” Sadness pooled in your belly as it glimmered in his eyes for a split second but soon simmered to bitterness. “And you seem just fine without me so far, so why don’t we keep it that way?”

For the first time that night, he saw your expression falter. Your lip quivered with your downcast eyes, and as he heard your heartbeat pick up, he couldn’t ignore the very real heartache those words brought you.

But he felt it. And he’s never had that for anyone else other than Gwen.

“There you are, sweetheart. Was thinking you didn’t wanna dance with me.” A heavy hand touched the small of you back, and you held back the impulse repulsion that bubbled up. Instead you smiled, craning your neck up high to look at the man towering above you.

“Sorry dear, you know I don’t get out much.” Composed and controlled, you were yourself again. You didn’t fight as he led you away, easily falling into pace with him. But you were forced to a halt as the large man paused from the sound behind you.

A sudden “Wait!” was said from your ex-best friend, who with wide eyes, mirrored your shock at his own exclamation. He held your gaze nearly dumbfounded, but at Kingpin’s stare he found his words. “We, uh, didn’t finish our dance.”

The hand behind your back stilled, and you hoped the man beside you couldn’t feel the panicked beating of your heart for Peter’s sake. But a sardonic laugh resounded and you felt it shake the room. “Sorry boy, she’s mine tonight. But if you’re still so keen, you can book her another day.” Nausea was felt at the back of your throat, but you continued the path Kingpin determined as he walked on.

However, you still felt the stare of familiar eyes on the back of your head, as you disappeared into the crowd.

He should’ve listened to you.

Even if he was a hero, injuries didn’t hurt any less. Especially from endless goons with pipe bats, pistols, and small blades that consisted of his afterparty. Luckily, Kingpin hadn’t gotten ahold of his identity, but the man still caught wind that the spider-themed vigilante had infiltrated the event. Things were quickly shut down and you were quickly ushered away along with the rest of the guests. He just wished he could’ve had another chance to talk to you. Not even about his revelation, just to apologize for being such a jerk. That’s all he was after her death after all.

He felt blood bubbling up in his mouth as he sustained another hit due to fatigue. He was slowing down too much, but he didn’t have the stamina to run yet barely had the strength to keep fighting. Though to think ‘Spider-man: Career Ended By Mere Goonies’ being on the headlines irked him more than he liked so he kept as light as he could on his feet and threw more punches. There were only a dozen or so of them left, maybe he’d get lucky. But the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and as he turned, a smack to the side of his head rendered him on the floor and probably with a concussion.

He only blinked for a second he thinks, but the area around him has become littered with bodies and he sees a shadowed figure in the distance. Another blink and the scene has shifted to a small sidewalk indicated by the flickering street lights above that gives him a headache. And he swears he only rested his eyes for a minute, but now he’s in a bed with too many pillows that are propping him up. It takes him a moment to gather his senses to hear the sound of running water as his eyes adjust to the low-lighting of the bedroom, and he feels his mask is off.

His mask is off and he’s in a stranger’s house.

He jerks to a sitting position, but the spike of pain shooting through his body renders a string of curses as he falls back into the pillows. Again he barely registers a figure rushing over to him, with a small bucket and towel that are placed beside a box of medical aids he finds. It’s only when he looks back up that he realizes, that figure is you.

“I’d say, ‘I told you so.’ But I don’t think you can even hear me through that thick skull of yours.” With a dip, the towel is soaked easily, and after a quick squeegee, you lift it up and make contact with the gash on his cheek which he barely bothers to flinch at.

“How?” His voice is crackly and sounds like death and that causes him to flinch, but you don’t bat an eye, rather, giving an amused look.

“You aren’t the only one who learned how to fight.” The blood cleans off easier than he’d think, and you’re dabbing some antiseptic and bandaging it up with the kind of ease that tells him you’ve done this too many times before. “I get the whole hero thing includes being willing to die for your cause, but I don’t think rushing into a fight with the entire security of Kingpin’s building was justified.” With a sigh, you toss the cotton ball into the nearby bin. “May’s still alive, isn’t she? You have someone waiting for you at home, don’t go dying willy nilly like that.”

He knows he’s staring, but he blames the concussion for slowing him down. “I’m sorry.” He blurts, it’s also limiting his impulse behavior it seems. You’re wiping your hands off with the towel, and when he glances down, he sees that the whole suit is off and the rest of his wounds have been tended to. He’s not really allowed to dwell on that when you respond.

“For what exactly? If you need, I can list why you should be.” The towel is chucked into the bucket while you lean into the bedside. “But I’m sorry too, for leaving you like that. I was forced into working in this industry is why, and I didn’t want to risk letting you know through all these years. Knowing the identity of Spider-man is too valuable information to let these kinds of people find out.” He knows your explanation condones your leaving, but he feels your guilt that returns at the statement. It doesn’t make him feel any better about how he acted.

But you’re looking at him with sympathetic eyes that he knows you probably could have never afforded to risk showing until now. In that moment, you remind him of how you were all those years ago. His friend who was always extraordinarily understanding of how he felt and endlessly patient with his excuses— that you even knew were pathetic— but always dismissed with a sarcastic comment. And that there makes him realize that you knew all along, the truth of his connection to you.

“For saying all that shit.” The revelation sputters his mind to think, allowing him to finally piece his thoughts together to break the silence. The words feel heavy in his mouth, but he keeps trying to push them out anyways. “And for mixing up my spider sense with the soulmate tingle too.” All that pain he felt through the years he thought was his own. It was easy to have them all become so indistinguishable, especially given the grief he was faced with due to the many he failed to save. Oh, his eyes were getting all dewey too and staring at your shocked face, he comes to the realization that he just babbled all of that to you instead of just thinking it.

You scoot closer to him, eyes filled with a sorrow-tinged warmth that you freely express to him. Your hand lifts to gently run through his hair in a manner that feels too intimate and gives his tears the permission to start dripping down his face. As you lean in to lightly press your forehead against his, his arms lightly wrap around your waist to hold you close to him as if afraid you might leave again. At that moment he feels like he’s finally come home after a much too long trip. He feels relief. He feels comfort.

He feels only you.

masterlist

#shnargo writes #bweep #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #tasm!spiderman/reader #tasm!peter/reader #tasm!spiderman fanfic #spiderman x reader

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she-karev · 1 day

Text

Mama Bear

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Season and Episode: Season 19 episode 9

AN: This chapter is set a few days after the first one. I’ll try to post the final chapter tomorrow so bear with me and I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Amber confronts Hunt after Allison bit Lucy again that turns physical. Later Andrew tells her their plans that night that shock her.

Words: 2270

I sling my bag over my shoulder barely able to contain my anger as I exit the resident’s lounge. I slam the door loudly behind me causing some of the staff members to look at me but I ignore them so I can march straight to daycare. I was ready to clock out early happy when while I was changing into my red shirt and jeans, I got a call from the people at daycare who called to tell me to come down to file another incident report…against Allison Hunt.

It’s been a few days since she bit Lucy the first time and I calmed down enough and told myself kids bite and that it won’t happen again. But then it happened again and I never felt like tearing into a three-year-old girl until now. My baby is being bullied and I will be damned if I let it happen again even if it means threatening her parents who are my bosses. Alex and Jo follow me no doubt concerned after I nearly slammed the door off its hinges.

“Hey what’s going on?” Jo asks.

I rant to them, “That little bitch thinks she can ruin my family well she has got another thing coming.”

“Did DeLuca cheat?” Alex asks no doubt in fury, “Do I need to kick his ass for you?”

“No DeLuca is an angel Hunt and Altman’s kid on the other hand was handpicked by the devil to reign chaos in the daycare.” I growl angry as I get in the elevator with Alex and Jo, “Allison bit Lucy again. Two times that little demon has sunk her teeth into my baby, it’s not a coincidence it’s a problem and she is a problem child.”

“Okay I can see why your so angry.” Jo says understanding, “You’re not gonna kill her though, are you? Because I feel the need to report you if you’re planning a baby murder.”

“I’m not crazy of course I’m not gonna kill her. I’m gonna kill her parents.”

“I feel the need to remind you that Altman is the chief now and lashing out at her and punching her husband could cost you, your job.” Alex tells me.

“I don’t care!” Alex winces at my yelling, “Her child is bullying my baby and I am not gonna stand for it even if I lose my job. I am not a resident and she is not my boss right now, I am a mama bear and Altman and her spawn are hunting my cub and I will slash her face off if I see her pointing a gun at my baby.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared of you.” Alex admits fearfully, “And you put a garter snake in my shower while I was using it.”

“You did?” Jo asks, astonished.

“It was a pet of mine I found him in the yard and he escaped.” I explain and turn to Alex, “Just be glad I got to Snakey before he bit off your snake.”

“Snakey?” Jo asks with a chuckle.

“I was six sue me.” The elevator doors open and I march down the hall until I spot Bailey, Hunt and Ben Warren outside the daycare waiting for us. I stand in front of them with an angry frown directed at Hunt who clears his throat. I turn to Bailey and Warren, “His daughter bit yours again too?”

“Yep.” Warren confirms with a calm voice but disappointed frown.

“Look I’m sorry I-I really can’t apologize enough.” Hunt tells us but it doesn’t make me feel better, “Now I will talk to my wife and she will come to you and figure out what to do moving forward.”

I chuckle darkly, “Hiding behind your chief wife that’s classy.”

Alex tries to step in, “Amber why don’t we-”

“Shut up.” I command in a harsh voice and he does so as I turn to Hunt, “Hunt I don’t want to be at work worried over my baby being around your devil spawn child.”

Hunt looks at me offended, “Excuse me I will thank you kindly not to insult my daughter.”

“So long as your daughter doesn’t assault ours again.” I point out, “Now I can’t reprimand your wife but I can reprimand you because you have less power here than my five-month-old. Do something or I will take matters into my own hands.”

Hunt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I have to pick up my kids and take them home.”

“I’m not done here.” I tell him but he starts to turn and I react by pure rage and grab him by his ear pinching my thumb nail against his scapha causing him to yell out in pain as I bring him back outside leaning down so he can look up at me, “I said I am not done.”

Hunt groans in pain as I keep a hold of his ear, “What are you doing?”

“Taking matters into my own hands.” I coldly inform him.

Bailey tries to step in but Warren stops her, “No, no we should stay out of it those nails look sharp.”

Hunt groans in pain, “They are!”

I press my thumb nail down harder to make my point, “Now listen to me Hunt and listen to me good if your little brat doesn’t stop picking on my daughter not only will I give her full permission to kick her ass when their grown but I’ll be kicking yours and your wife’s right alongside her, do you understand?”

“I think I feel blood.” Hunt informs me and I press my thumb nail harder causing him to groan in pain, “Yes! Yes, I understand!” I let go of him and he rubs his ear after my vice grip looking at me like I could snap at any minute, “I’ll talk to Teddy I will just…Jesus.” He goes inside to pick up his kids and I look to see the others looking at me frightened.

“What? The man needed a lesson on what kind of family he’s messing with.”

“Hey, I am on your side.” Jo looks at Alex surprised, “That’s my niece his daughter bit.”

“Thank you.” I turn to Bailey and Warren, “And unlike the two of you I have an insurmountable rage inside me that can’t be contained.”

“Clearly.” Bailey confirms, “I think I saw your rage bleeding out of Hunt’s ear.” I see Hunt walking his kids out of daycare and I go in to check my daughter out so I can forget this horrible day.

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

The smell of garlic hits me as soon I open the front door carrying Lucy in her car seat. I follow the scent to the kitchen where I find Andrew in full cooking mode wearing a ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron and sauteing the peeled peppers in garlic over the stove. I smile at the sight and get Lucy out of her car seat so I can hold her as we get closer to her dad while he’s cooking.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Andrew smiles at us, “I see you two got out early.”

I hold Lucy against my hip, “Yeah I got a resident to take over so I could spend the night with you guys.” I inhale the sweet aroma deeply moaning in pleasure, “Roasted peppers on olive oil?”

Andrew nods, “Yep, with lots of garlic.”

I kiss his cheek, “You spoil me. I could really use some of your Italian cuisine after the day I had.”

“Well don’t get mad but this isn’t all for us.” I look at him confused, “It’s for the dinner party tonight.”

“What dinner party?”

“At Hunt and Altman’s.” My eyes widened at that information, “She invited us yesterday as a way to apologize for what happened at daycare. Ben and Bailey are coming too. I already got Carina to babysit tonight don’t worry she was actually more than happy to do it.” He notices my shocked face, “Didn’t I tell you about the dinner?”

“Um no but then again we’ve been so busy we’ve barely had time to shower let alone catch up.” I move to sit in a chair by the island, “I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that Allison bit Pru and Lucy again.”

He looks at me shocked as he puts the peppers in a glassware dish, “What? When did this happen?”

“Today I went there before I came here.”

He groans, “Okay it’s fine the dinner might be awkward but we’ll talk and hopefully resolve this with clear eyes and full hearts.”

I clear my throat, “I think I should tell you that I confronted Hunt about Allison and…blood was literally spilled.”

He looks at me scared but treads carefully, “What did you do?”

“Um…” I scratch my head to find the words, “I might have grabbed him by the ear and told him to keep his brat in line or me and our daughter would give him hell in the future.” My husband reacts with wide eyes, “Also there might have been some blood from the pinching his ear.”

“…Well at least you got your point across.” I look at him blankly, “I mean I don’t really know what to say here. On the one hand I’m shocked you would stoop to physical blows but on the other I’m a little turned on by this badass side of you.”

I groan at the unfortunate timing, “Let’s skip it, it’s gonna get bad and I am in no mood for a showdown with the Hunt’s.”

“We’re not gonna skip it.” Andrew stands next to me holding Lucy’s tiny hand, “It would send the wrong message and we should apologize for you manhandling Hunt so we can continue to afford our comfortable lifestyle.”

“I did not manhandle him.” He raises a suspicious eyebrow at me and I break. “Okay fine I did but he asked for it! Their daughter has now bitten our daughter. Twice. It’s a problem and making them your heavenly peppers sends the wrong message.”

“What message?” He asks dumbfounded, “That we’re Italian?”

“No, it sends a message that what their daughter did is okay and it’s not! I made that clear to Hunt. I have to protect my child even if you won’t.” Lucy starts to get fussy.

“Whoa hey of course I want to protect Lucy, I’m just saying physical blows are gonna make this worse not better.”

I scoff, “It started getting worse when their child bit our child for a second time!” Lucy cries in my arms and I rock her to soothe her, “Great and now Hunt and Altman are upsetting her at home. Something needs to be done because short of getting a nanny Hunt and Altman need to fix their problem child. Let’s just stay in and watch Moana for the hundredth time it’ll be better than what ever that dinner will entail.”

Andrew sighs and Lucy calms down, “Look we’ll go we’ll eat the peppers with Altman’s dry chicken and politely talk to them about Allison. Perhaps this feud of ours will be resolved if we talk to them and use our words instead of our fists.”

I stand up and go to the diaper bag to get Lucy’s dragon for her to play with, “You know calling it a feud sounds a little melodramatic.”

“Okay and what would you call it?”

“It’s a war.” Andrew chuckles at that. Lucy is holding her dragon as I sit on the couch with her on my lap, “They declared war on us when they didn’t do squat and let their daughter bite our daughter again. Now we’re the Montagues and Capulets, the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s it’s a war between the DeLuca’s and the Hunts and going over to their territory for false promises of peace is like asking out loud where the trap is and how hard we should step on it.”

Andrew sits next to us and grins at Lucy who’s busy biting her dragon’s arm, “Be honest Lucia who’s more melodramatic, me or your mama?”

“You really don’t want us ganging up on you when she’s a teenager because you don’t stand a chance.” I coldly inform him.

“Amber all I’m saying is that tonight don’t think of it as a dinner table, think of it as a peace table. And I’m sure as mad as Altman is at him, I don’t know if she’ll approve of you making her husband bleed. I mean come on I think this war of ours is at a standstill after the ear assault. It’s just a couple of hours and if it comes down to it, we will leave. Plus, when was the last time you and I had a night out with our adult friends without a baby present?”

I think on it for a moment with Lucy in my lap and come up empty, “Fine we’ll go but if they piss me off, we tag team with Bailey and Warren and go all Rocky and Creed on their Drago.”

“I’m pretty sure Creed died.” Andrew reminds me.

“Because he didn’t tag out with Rocky do you see what we’ll do differently?” Andrew chuckles and kisses me and then Lucy and goes back to the kitchen to his peppers. I exhale at the predicament I got myself in while my daughter is oblivious as she plays with her plush dragon. I grin at her in envy kissing her on top of her soft dark hair, “Your lucky to have parents who are willing to fight in the ring for you baby.”

#greys anatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #grey's anatomy #amber karev #alex karev #jo wilson #andrew deluca #miranda bailey #ben warren #teddy altman #owen hunt #elizabeth gillies #liz gillies #giacomo gianniotti #headcanon #mine

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vyxythepixie · 20 days

Text

Juvelen Av Trollmenn (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Loki/Stephen Strange Rating: M (Mature) Word Count: 2270 (Total in fic so far 20,427) Warnings: Explicit Language (a few F-bombs), mild horror elements, sexual themes, bodyswapping, mild sex scenes Summary: Saving the world comes at a price. Loki and Stephen Strange, who are certainly not together, find themselves suddenly parents. Can they reach an agreement on what this will mean for the future or will something sinister tear apart their lives as they know it?

READ IT ON AO3 HERE

“Listen to me,” Loki hissed. “You have to stop. That ward is protecting us from him.”

Whether his warning was about to be heeded, he never found out. As the general turned back, the white-hot sigil burst. For an instant, the whole host of symbols flickered into view and then they vanished.

The room paused for breath.

Stephen’s eyes snapped open.

All three of them.

#strangefrost #stephen strange #loki #fanfiction

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colonoscopys · 2 years

Text

ficlets

sometimes I post annoying little fics on AO3. here they are. I’ll just reblog whenever I update!

chapter 15 / Meanwhile, in LA ~ 1 k

this is just Eddie having feelings

Chapter 14 / Let the Buddie Bullshit Begin ~ 2k

brief rewrite of the ending of 6x01 with established relationship

Chapter 13 / made of honor au ~ 16k

you know, the movie with the greys anatomy crossover and the “owen sounds like that???” (for reference)

Chapter 12 / my evergreen ~ 14k (getting worse and worse)

struggled with writing this one. my friend says 'he dumped me for his ex' i would have already shitted on his mother, grandmother, ancestors, tried to contact the irs to get his social security revoked, put sardines in his curtain rods, glue in his gas tank, fucked with his eyes prescription, deleted his a03 hist-

Chapter 11 / dumb and dumber ~ 2066 Words

leaked script from the show. they’re fucking stupid.

Chapter 10 / real? not real? ~ 2270 Words

me , if I had a traumatizing nightmare and then the love of my life took off his shirt to show me there was no blood and to hold me. but thankfully not me

Chapter 9 / you can let it go ~ 11392 Words (help)

*in big loud megaphone voice and steve harvey smile* FOR ALL MY FUCKING ANNOYING YOUNGER SIBLINGS, THIS ONES FOR YOU

Chapter 8 / lots - o - huggins bear ~ 1942 Words

Rewrote that scene where Lots-O-Huggins Bear throws Ken into the bottom of a dumpster, with Buck instead. He’s okay though. Eddie still gets to see his ‘bear’ ass. (oh my god, you have no idea how fucking proud I am of that one)

Chapter 7 / guess i’m broken my design ~ 2749 Words

Eddie would hold Buck’s hand at the grocery store, rather than Buck’s piss-asss parents. He just would.

Chapter 6 / diaz parents we fight at dawn ~ 2020 Words

He’s smart. He’s competent. He’s cool and the greatest dad ever.

He also hates pickles on his burgers, is pathetically in love with his BFF, and is a huge technophobe.

She’s, they’s, and gays, sick Eddie Diaz.

Chapter 5 / childhood au (complete) ~ 6987 Words

Childhood au with Buck and Eddie, and all the trauma. Can be found, finished, and somehow 45k! here:

Chapter 4 / i think he knows ~ 1812 Words

Fan-favorite. Dubbed the ‘chobani flip fic’ by beloved @chobani-flip. It’s like “kiss me thru the phone’ by soulja boy except scratch out ‘kiss me’ with ‘dying’ and it works!

Chapter 3 / oh you kissed me, just to kiss me, not to take me home ~ 2159 Words

He’s drunk and in love with his best friend. He trusts his best friend to take him home. Someone is taking him home and he kisses them. These two events are mutually independent, thank you very much (spoiler: they’re not).

Chapter 2 / fuck josh russo ~ 3967 Words

enjoy my favorite ao3 tag - ‘Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley Takes Care of Eddie Diaz’ (pre breakdown, still a breakdown set loosely post-Lucy)

Chapter 1 / dispatcher diaz ~ 978 Words

worst sex line operator experience for eddie ever

#none of these summaries are accurate or helpful #im so sorry please enjoy!#911 #oh and recently updated like. yesterday #911 fic #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Text

Hitchhiking Part 2 (Dark one)

Well here I come with this second part, as I said I had written a nice part and a dark part, this is the dark part, where I have dared to add the little taste of the truck driver from Vacations (if anyone has seen the movie you will understand what I mean).

Dark!Norman Trucker x FemReader x ¿?

One Shot

Warnings: Kidnapping. Drugs. Abuse. Death.

Words: 2270

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @srhxpci @darylsgarden @xxtinasxxblog @ruinedbythehobbit @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves

You open your eyes again, the headache is intense, but at the same time you are enveloped by panic as you feel the purring and rattling of the truck. You are about to scream, but your voice gets stuck against the tape in your mouth and the fear becomes more evident. You are held in the back of the cab, with the curtains drawn so you can't be seen from the outside. Your breathing is agitated from the panic that floods your body. You don't know what is happening. You feel so stupid. You've let yourself be fooled by pretty eyes and four pretty words, you've pulled down your panties like a horny teenager. You close your eyes and feel tears choking you because of the gag in your mouth. You take several deep breaths but your lungs don't quite fill with air. God you're going to die sooner because of your own snot.

It's all so absurd.

Suddenly the truck stops, which doesn't help your fear subside. The curtain opens abruptly, the light hitting your eyes cruelly forcing you to close them. You feel it tug at your gag and you can finally breathe, coughing from lack of air.

"I'm glad you woke up, little girl, I thought I hit you too hard." It's a joke, but it's laden with malice, her face has transformed into a strange, nervous grimace. "Are you comfortable?"

"Please...please let me go..." You ask, tears again spilling down your face.

"Uhm no, I wasn't really going to take you to Atlanta from the beginning." He smiles playing with a toothpick between his lips. "It's a shame you ran into my little stash, But you know? It's rude to gossip in a man's truck." The irony overflows her words and you can't help but shiver.

"I-I'm sorry... I won't say anything, I swear, but..."

"You swear to me? In that case I should let you go." A laugh escapes him and when he caresses your cheek your stomach churns. "I'm sorry, but no, I have other plans for you, sweetheart."

"I haven't done anything to you..."

"I know, in fact the sex wasn't all bad, don't you think? We understood each other pretty well from the beginning, maybe you're a little, you know, too." He waved his hand indicating that you'd gone off your head and laughed again. "We have a very long road ahead of us, so be a good girl and don't force me to knock you unconscious again." His voice sounds dangerous all of a sudden and he puts your gag back in place as you hear him climb down and close the truck.

You shrink in on yourself feeling your arms tired from that posture. You don't know where you're going, or how long you've been on the road, but it's clear you've changed counties at some point, Atlanta has been left behind at some point. You look up, searching for your backpack, it must still be in the truck, your things, your cell phone, something to call for help.

You move fast, you have to find the backpack before Norman comes back, if that's his name, the only thing you know is that you don't have too much time. You try to let go of your hands but they're clenched tight, you curse mentally and slip falling between the seats.

"Fuck!" You mentally protest, but you're stuck and can't get up. "You're an idiot, Boira!" you berate yourself again.

"You're looking for your stuff, do you really think I haven't gotten rid of it already?" You hear Norman's voice and how he climbs into the truck to grab you and lift you off the ground.

He is brusque and untidy, not careful when he picks you up by your shoulders to push you back onto the cabin bed. You are surprised at how different he is from one day to the next, the day before he had been so kind, so polite and now he is waving his toothpick nervously.

"I've brought food for both of us, I'm going to let you out so you can get something to eat, promise me you won't do anything stupid?"

You nod your head repeatedly, he removes your gag and unties your hands, you take advantage of your new mobility and don't think about it, you give him a hard shove, Norman staggers into the driver's seat and you scurry jumping out of the truck. You hear him screaming behind you, but you don't think to stop. He's gone to get food, so there's something around, you can call for help. However when your eyes get used to the light, you stop.

There is nothing, an old, crumbling bar on the side of the road, but nothing else. Miles and miles of nothingness open up before your eyes. Absolutely nothing. You feel a violent jerk and your body impacts Norman's truck, the man looks at you angrily.

"I told you not to do anything stupid." He growls through his teeth. "What was your plan, huh, run cross-country?" he sneers but you ignore him, you have nothing to lose anymore, you're all alone next to a psychopath. "Get in." He orders you looking at the cab of the truck.

You could try to run, try to lose sight of him, but where to head? Trembling you climb the stairs to sit in the passenger seat. Norman gets in after you and closes the door. From a bag he pulls out two packets of food, handing you one. He wants to keep you healthy, at least until you get to whatever destination he has planned. This time he doesn't put you in the back of the cabin, he leaves you in the passenger seat and loves to talk, on another occasion you are sure you would have collaborated in the conversation, but the endless monologue begins to overwhelm you and the worst of all is that you can't tell him to shut up at once. You don't know how long you've been on the move but you're sure you've seen the sun rise at least twice, it's almost dusk again when Norman makes another stop and you feel a prick in your neck, you try to fight it, but you see that the truck driver is carrying a syringe in his hand and your vision starts to blur.

"We're almost there, beautiful." He says in a dark voice and you fall asleep in the seat.

Before you open your eyes you feel that the atmosphere has changed, there is humidity and heat around you, you feel a cold breeze sneaking in somewhere mixing with the heat where you are. Slowly you wake up, your hands are now tied to chains on the bare wall, you look around you, sitting on an old mattress, you hear heavy footsteps and you raise your head.

"I've found her, brother." You hear Norman's voice, he's talking to someone and that doesn't calm your fear.

Out of the shadows another man appears and your stomach clenches, blonder, with shorter hair, several days old beard, he wears a mask over his head and a blue coverall open revealing a white undershirt, his eyes bore down hard on you and a small smile forms on his mouth.

"Yes, ya found her." He looks you up and down leaning against a column in the cave, or so it seems to you, partially illuminated with some electric flashlights you can see a huge table set up for drug manufacturing and that unsettles you even more. No doubt you are in the secret base used by these two. Norman approaches the other man and there is no doubt that they are brothers. Norman looks a little older, his features are more pronounced but the other man's gesture is hard and serious. He walks slowly towards you and lifts his head for you to look at him.

"I hope my brother has been kind to ya."

"Don't scare the girl, Mac, I'm always nice." He says behind the other man, he takes off his vest and cap messing up his hair between his fingers.

"I know, did you have fun with her?" your body trembles when you hear Norman hum.

"But I'm going to stay a few days until you get new merchandise, so don't destry her too much."

"I'm not as nice as my brother." He tells you and strokes your cheek, tears pool in your eyes and he licks his lips. "But we'll know how to have a good time, won't we?" Mac leans in ready to kiss you, but you turn your face away and feel his beard sting your cheek. "She's feisty..." He says in a husky voice.

"A little, but it's worth it." Norman replies right next to him.

You writhe under his body trying to get rid of his hands as they remove your clothes, he rips off your shirt, your bra, pulls off your pants and panties and you are totally exposed before him. You feel shame, rage and humiliation, tears continue to fall down your face as his hands run over every inch of your body, his lips leave marks on your neck, your shoulders, his tongue tangles around your nipples. Your body trembles and shudders with each caress, you want to stop him but the words are stuck in your throat, you are not even able to scream. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs when you feel him spread your legs and pierce you with a single lunge. The scream of pain doesn't cause him to stop, on the contrary, holding on to your wrists he starts thrusting hard, speed, he bends down and where before he brushed his lips, now his teeth made sure to leave marks on your skin.

Mac pulls away from you breathing hard through his mouth, his forehead pearly with sweat, his cock sticking out of you along with the remnants of his cum, he watches you closely and you keep sobbing and panting.

"Why me?" you dare to ask with a trickle of voice seeing the two men very quiet.

"Shall we tell her our story, Norman?" Mac asks and Norman shrugs, agreeing. "Ya see when we were younger, in our neighborhood there was a neighbor, a girl... What was she, twelve? Maybe thirteen?"

"No, she hadn't gotten her period yet, but she was beautiful." Norman remembers and you feel like throwing up.

"True, my brother has always had a weakness for children, and even though it's wrong, I helped him have a memory, while I fucked his mother, he stole a pair of her panties." Mac continues with the explanation as on his index finger he lets your own panties dance before your eyes.

"I loved her smell, so pure, so delicate..."

"And then he found ya, pretty girl."

"You smell the same, I couldn't resist, you had to come with us." Norman says moving towards you again and you instinctively recoil.

"B-but I'm not that girl, I-I've never lived here before." You say in a strangled voice, your head hurting horrendously from your crying and Mac's mistreatment of your body.

"No, it doesn't matter." Norman strokes your hair and cheek. "You're perfect, your smell, your taste... you remind me so much of her..."

"Oh my God..." You gasp and you can't help it, your stomach churns and you throw up on the side of the mattress.

That doesn't seem to scare the two brothers. They just walk away and leave you there alone, crying trying to find a way out or get rid of your bound wrists. You don't know how much time passes, but you're sure it passes much slower than normal. Mac's job is to manufacture Methamphetamine, which makes the atmosphere always stuffy and thick, just standing there snorting the fumes makes you feel high, your body heavy and your mind foggy, of course that doesn't stop the two brothers from having fun with you whenever they feel like it. When Mac pulls out his cock, Norman is already waiting his turn. You lose consciousness several times and when you open your eyes again you find one of them on top of you. But you don't feel anything anymore. You have become a huge mass of nothingness.

Norman has been gone for days, his job as a truck driver doesn't allow him to stand in one place for long, which also becomes a perfect alibi so they can't detect him since he never has a fixed route, so no one knows what's going on in Utah. Mac for his part has fun with you when and how he wants to, when he's not high, he's drunk and sometimes both. Luckily when that happens he is so stunted that he is unable to touch you and you can rest easier.

That day you wake up to hear a cell phone ringing that you do not recognize, you had not even thought that there could be coverage there. Mac appears with his overalls and mask over his head and picks up.

"What is it, Norman?"

"I found her, Mac..."

"Did ya? All right, y'know what to do." Mac hangs up and turns to look at you. Your skin crawls with goose bumps at his crooked smile.

"W-what?"

"Sorry, honey, but my brother found his missing little girl."

"I-I thought I..."

"I know, I know what ya thought, but it doesn't work like that, y'know? Ya ain't the first one to come believing you're the chosen one and rest assured, you won't be the last." His smile becomes crueler, he puts on his mask and grabs a knife from the table.

Your eyes fill with tears again as he walks towards you.

The End...

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

#norman reedus #normanreedus #smut #one shot #dark character #truckerxreader #mac #mac red canyon #mac x reader #violence #death fic

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everythingbutresolved · 2 years

Note

So he's obviously getting his needs met but may need some liquid courage for the verbal part...could I choose #2 cocktails

I had to divide this in two parts, sorry for the wait and Happy Birthday @girlwiththenegantattoo

Also on AO3

Other chapters HERE

Original images by @giuliajrosa-blog and @plainlo-inthemorning (thank you!)

Words: 2270

Tags: mild smut / angst / slow burn

Characters: Jeb Magruder/ OFC (You)

Whyskey Sour - Part 1

“I grew up in the shoes they told me I could fill

When they came around, I would stand real still

A girl can roll her eyes at me and kill

I got the idea I wasn't real

I thought being blacklisted would be grist for the mill

Until I realized

I'm still here”

Fetch The Bolt Cutters

Pinned to the bedspread, arms and legs open and limp like a stranded starfish and Jeb’s creased shirt collar rubbing your cheek, you wonder if he took salsa lessons for his first wedding dance with Gail, and if he looked good in a black tuxedo with a white carnation secured in the eyelet. You think of their first night, and the nights after that, and idlingly try to guess the exact moment things started to go downhill for them.

You also wonder how to politely tell Jeb to stop whatever he thinks he’s doing and just get off you.

A cursory glance informs you that he didn’t even take his shoes off, while you were stripped down and laid on his bed (Gail and Jeb’s bed, you are reminded by the few items of clothing scattered around the room) where Jeb has been relentlessly pouncing you for the last 20 minutes.

You should be ecstatic.

You’re slowly admitting to yourself that you’ve never been fucked this badly before.

The heavy body on top of you is stifling warm, crashing your chest and arms dangling over the sides of the mattress while the cogwheel rhythm of his hips is giving you a cramp that stretches from your hip to your knee. You can smell sweat and sea breeze and the unmistakable stench of hungover breath.

All this while Jeb continues to maintain a heavy, stubborn silence that frankly, you don't know whether it is more unsettling or alarming.

Hell, even a corny "oh baby" would be good enough for you at this point.

You had imagined your first time with Jeb like a slow affair of long kisses, reverent touches, and a smooth transition to a glorious, knee bending, memorable sex. In your mind you anticipated his hands roaming over your body with eager possession, an electrifying shiver running through your spine while he caressed your inner thighs, and to be honest you had high expectations when he manhandled on the bed, working open his zipper and pulling down your panties in rough gestures.

You even tried not to complain too much at the sudden intrusion and consequential stretch, glad to be excited enough to ease the shove of his impressive length inside you.

Instead of praises of affection and sweet secrets murmured in you hear, Jeb’s face is buried in the hollow of your neck, so that the only thing you hear is heavy grunts, while droplets of sweat are trickling all over your face, breath heavy with alcohol, sticky strands of hair glued to your temples.

This

Disaster.

Jeb.

Someone is calling his name

Jeb. Beebee.

He recognizes the voice. Not Gail. Gail is gone. She went back home, he knows that, he has dropped her off at the airport…when? A long time ago. Hours. Maybe this morning. Last night they went to dinner, him and Jeb, no, him and Gail, a casual event but Gail insisted he wore a suit, even though the humidity in the air went through the roof and he could feel the dampness on his back growing bigger and bigger by the minute.

He was so happy when he saw her outside the airport exit door, her smart, gentle, assertive Gail.

No, not assertive, demanding.

Gail wants, Jeb executes. And it works. Like a clockwork. Marriage, house, children, job – there’s not a single part of their life that Gail hasn’t accurately planned.

The only time he saw his father smiling with something that resembled genuine satisfaction was when he told him he was going to marry Gail.

He even likes how she made love to him, ruthless, looking for her pleasure first, telling him exactly what to do and going for it. He didn’t mind. His wife’s lean body didn’t move an inch after two pregnancies and she still fucked him like a cat on heat, meowling on top of him, his back arching and her walls writhing and twitching all around him until they were both panting and spent, her curving in his embrace, his long-limbed and year-by-year bulkier body beached on the bed decked out in chintz and lace, his hands clutching the flowered sheet tightly, attention all caught up in her.

It was a good marriage.

She was a believer in natural childbirth, and because the first one had been devastatingly painful, she needed to have two more to prove her point, which is why she was pushing him more and more insistently in taking the next step.

More children meant a better job for him. Gail had dropped out of the fine arts class at Berkley when she became pregnant with the first one and had not touched her books since then, only volumes on parenting and childcare.

He wondered if she was really happy. He had asked her one day, after a particularly infuriating evening, but the look she gave him had silenced him, and they had started talking again about what to do for the holidays.

It had been Gail's idea to take the whole family on vacation to the beach, including her kind but intrusive mother ("so we'll finally have more time to ourselves"), and despite the mishap with the plane tickets and the interminable rant, he had found himself staring at the ceiling of the small bungalow room, the same night, his eyes closed and his hands clasped around Gail's slender thighs, trying to focus on his wife's eagerly spreading thighs, clenching around his traitorous cock, the rhythmic movement of Gail's pelvis giving him little jolts of pleasure that became waves of heat throughout his body, his shortness of breath and the stupendous sight of small, bouncing breasts replaced at a stroke by that of a pair of green eyes, half closed in pleasure, staring dreamily at him from above his shaft, red lips enveloping him, and moaning from deep in his throat that reverberated throughout his body.

As he came with telluric tremors in Gail's warm belly, he had clenched his jaw as tight as he could to keep from screaming your name.

That he felt so bad at the thought of having betrayed her trust – then he thought of you, the taste of you still on his lips and fingers.

When he kissed Gail he had the insane thought she could smell his betrayal. Standing awkwardly in a corner of the room at the party, through open doors, he saw you facing the terrace and talking to your father, frizzy hair coiffed in a tight chignon so that your strapless dress would reveal tanned shoulders and Jeb felt a twitch in his stomach, excused himself and felt the urge of something strong.

The barista poured him something his father would have chosen, the smell alone evoking memories of endless nights listening in the dark to his parents talking downstairs – children not admitted.

JEB.

After that, he ordered another. And another. The rest of the night was a blur. Gail, beautiful, sweet Gail still angry about the tickets problem, cornering him discretely, tumbler filled with melted ice, telling him to take a walk. A long one. After wandering by himself he found the way to the beach, where he laid his head on soft moss and closed his eyes, eyelids growing heavy with drowsiness.

He woke up at first dawn, emerging from a long dream where you had merged with Gail and all the others before her, a little army of feminine urge and hands and soft skin pressing against his, eager mouths sucking and titillating and biting, whispering in his ears murmurs of appreciation – he just had to lay down,

smile and be pretty.

In a corner he thought he had seen his father, sitting in his old rocker, observing the scene with rapt attention.

Sharp pain in his diaphragm. He must be still asleep on the beach, a rock piercing his sternum through the taut fabric.

But he remembered the trip back to their room as atrocious, nausea assaulting him at every step, arriving just in time to bring Gail to the airport, her shocked glances at his “terribly irresponsible” behavior not even scraping the thick blanket of numbing mist that had covered him through the night. In a trance, he had bid farewell to his wife with vague reassurances about his state of health and that he had only had a little too much to drink, and then crawled to his new Oldsmobile and followed the road back to the hotel, where he slipped through a door found providentially open and sat on an unmade bed, swinging his head in his hands, counting to ten and holding his breath as long as he could, and again, and again.

GET THE FUCK OFF. JEB. GET. OFF.

When you slammed the door open he was reminded of the painting of Artemis hunting with her dogs that Gail showed him in her art book once, finally pinning down that resemblance he had been hopelessly trying to find since the first time he had seen you on the beach,

no,

before that, ever since he had met you in your father's house, your hair tied back in a high ponytail and your legs exposed in short gym shorts, your cheeks flushed and your eyes bright. You had not dignified him with so much as a glance, but upon greeting you shook his hand tightly, lingering a second longer than necessary. And all the following times, the frequency of which he had tried to intensify without giving too much suspicion, your detachment was balanced by glances that lingered without realizing they were being seen, and glasses of iced tea brought without anyone having asked you, and shirts that were a little too low-cut and lipsticks that were a hair too laden. To all these signs Jeb had adjusted to his usual way, which was - to wait.

No one had told him that it should have been his urge to make the first move, so why did this one has to be any different?

But there was something in your eyes, a steely solidity he had never seen. Like two cranes on one leg, you were waiting for the other to make the first dance move.

Until the day of the pool barbecue.

The very hot summer allowed for a relaxation of costumes and clothing that he was sure would not have been allowed in normal situations. Just seeing you surfacing from the shade of the porch with a tray in your hand, offering chilled wine to the guests, had taken your breath away - the hair curled by the humidity shaped a lion's crown that you had held back in a clumpy soft braid, and the Pompeian red costume adhered to your body to enhance a figure that was just begging to be squeezed and caressed and freed from that unnecessary constriction of iridescent fabric.

Yet something about you kept even the boldest hands from staying in place, a promise in your smile of painful punishment at every move made without your permission. When your eyes had met, Jeb had felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and cover your gaze.

Not being watched - but looking.

He wanted to devour every inch of you, plunge into the depths of your body, and emerge transformed, a treasure in his hands.

In the blink of an eye, the feeling had faded, and your gentle smile had lapped Jeb's tall figure to stop inches from him, asking him to help you with the barbecue preparations.

You don't change years of conditioning in a few minutes, possibly in an epic movie shot.

Life is not a short story with a happy ending.

For the rest of the day, Jeb had impressed upon him the figure of your broad back and shapely hips pulling at the costume's laces until they left a white indentation in your glistening skin.

He had hardly realized that he had said yes when the brunette girl he claimed to be your friend had extorted his promise to take her home, nor had he protested when she had asked him to pull over, only to unbuckle his belt and unzip it and pull a mouth glistening with cheap lipstick over his frighteningly erect member, nor had he been offended when she had insulted him after coming in her mouth without warning with long, hot spurts.

All he thought about was you slowly lowering your wet costume and asking him to do with you what he wanted "Whatever you want, Jeb, whatever you want."

JEB STUART MAGRUDER!

The yelling is loud enough to bring him back to reality and opening his eyes all he can see is a pair of furious green eyes staring at him, while the pain at his sides doesn’t seem to stop. He recollects his thoughts

where he is, how did he get here, who is on top of OH.

NO.

@littleredwritingcat @sanzpool-world @agirlinherhead @ebiemidnightlibrarian @jyngerpeach @vintageglassheart02 @plainlo-inthemorning @gorillaprutt @aherdofbees @chronic-ghost @pegplunkett

#hamfam #hot jeb summer #haimgruder #jeb magruder #gaslit fic #gaslit starz #hamish linklater #this is probably the last prompt #for now 😈#I love you all

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broomballkraken · 8 months

Text

Title: As in Coffee, As in Life Chapter 1: Plain Ol' Black Coffee

Fandom: Octopath Traveler 2

Pairing: Osvald/Partitio

Word count: 2270

Warnings: None

Fic Summary: “A bit o’ sweetness helps everythin’ along. As in coffee, as in life.” That was the mantra of Partitio and Roque Coffee Company. Partitio’s first customer on the opening day of the café, however, very much disagreed with this philosophy…well, the coffee part of it anyway. After learning more about Osvald, Partitio is determined to bring a little sweetness into the crestfallen professor’s life, whether he is ready for it or not.

Chapter Summary: Partitio is getting ready for the grand opening of his new café, and he ends up serving his very first customer a little earlier than he had anticipated.

“There, I reckon that’s everything…”

Partitio dragged an arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat, and he leaned on the handle of his boom as he gazed around his brand-spankin’ new café. It seemed like it was yesterday that he was walking across the stage at his college graduation, happier than pig in mud as he accepted his diploma. Now, just over a year later, he was opening his very own café in the city where he got his business degree, New Delsta.

A lot had happened between now and then, including the retirement of Partitio’s pops, which led to the rebranding of the coffee company from “Papp and Roque” to “Partitio and Roque.” Roque was still running the main shop in Partitio’s hometown of Oresrush, but Partitio didn’t know how much longer his step father would be on the scene; his pops was always badgering him to join him in retirement.

Partitio was all-too-willing to take over the business to allow Roque to do just that, but he also knew that Roque wasn’t just going to hand the entire company over to a greenhorn businessman like himself. Partitio was going to have to prove himself first, and he was determined to turn this humble little café into the most hoppin’ coffee joint in town!

As he stowed away his cleaning supplies and swapped his yellow coat for an apron, something outside caught Partitio’s eye. Someone was peeking in the window, with a curious look on his face as he tugged at his beard. Partitio beamed as he bounced to the door; it seemed like he was going to get his first customer a bit earlier than he had anticipated.

“Howdy there, friend!” Partitio said after he had swung the door open. The man jumped about a foot in the air and stared at Partitio like a deer in the headlights. When he recovered from the shock, the man straightened his posture as he fixed his askew glasses, and Partitio had to crane his neck to look him in the eye, which was unusual for someone as tall as Partitio was.

“Whoops, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle ya.” Partitio laughed as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. The man glanced briefly at Partitio’s hand before he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“It’s quite alright, I should be going-”

“Wait!” Partitio beamed as he closed the distance between them again and placed both hands on the man’s shoulders this time, “I saw you lookin’ in my shop here, so you must have a hankerin’ for a drink, am I right?”

“Er, well, the prospect of a new coffee shop opening up did intrigue me, I must admit,” the man said, rubbing his chin as he looked at Partitio over his glasses, “but it looks like you’re not open yet.”

Partitio glanced behind him at the ‘Closed’ sign in the window, and he shrugged. “That’s fine! I think I can make a special exception for my very first customer! C’mon!” Partitio backed into the door until it was open, and he waved a hand in front of him as he shot the man a wink. The man hesitated a moment, before he stepped into the shop and Partitio closed the door behind him. He then rushed behind the counter and spread his arms wide.

“Welcome to the New Delsta branch of Partitio and Roque Coffee Company! What can I getcha, sir?” Partitio was practically shaking with excitement as the man approached the counter, humming as he gazed around the shop with a curious glint in his eyes. Partitio tried not to be too obvious as he sized him up. The man was taller than him, which was not something that Partitio ran into very often. He was pretty dressed up; he wore a vest and slacks under a trench coat, and his long, gorgeous hair was neatly tied up under a fancy top hat. If Partitio had to guess, he would say that this man was some sort of fancy businessman or maybe a lawyer, and the briefcase that he carried made Partitio think that one of those guesses must be right.

Leaning against the counter, Partitio waited patiently as the man scanned the menu that spanned the wall behind the counter, and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of complex drink he would have to make for his first order. Hopefully it would be something nice and challenging-

“I’ll have a large black coffee, please.”

“Huh?” Partitio straightened up as he blinked slowly and cocked his head to one side. “That’s it?”

“Yes?”

Partitio recovered from his surprised state, and he laughed as he shot the man a wink before he turned to the coffee pot. A plain ol’ black coffee, huh? Maybe he should have expected that from a man so sophisticated-looking that he might as well have walked right out of a high-profile court case and stumbled into his quaint little café.

“Well shoot, I thought my first drink order would be a bit more of a challenge. I think you’re just goin’ easy on me.”

“Not at all,” the man said, adjusting his glasses as Partitio glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “The way I see it, the more bitter, the better.”

Partitio winced as he filled a mug and set in on the counter. Black coffee was really not his own cup of tea, but to each their own. “Well, I take mine with plenty o’ milk.”

“That’s absurd.” The man’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, and Partitio raised an eyebrow as he continued: “Milk blunts the bitterness from the beans...the very bitterness that stimulates the mind.” He seemed totally serious, and Partitio found his enthusiasm on the subject of coffee to be rather...alluring, even if he himself disagreed.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there, Mr…?”

“Osvald.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you, Mr. Osvald! The name’s Partitio, and thankee kindly for bein’ my very first customer!” Partitio beamed at him, and an idea came to mind, so he quickly ducked behind the pastry case.

“As an added thanks, have a coffee cake on the house!”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Partitio chuckled as he held out the plate, tipping his hat at Osvald. “C’mon, take it!”

“...Thank you,” Osvald said after a long pause, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Partitio over his glasses, “But I’d like you to share it with me.”

Partitio’s eyes went wide at that, and he stole a glance at the clock. He still had 45 minutes until he had to open shop for real, and he had done all of the prep work already, so he gave Osvald a firm nod.

“Sure thing, friend! Let me make myself a drink first so I can join you proper.” After Osvald had paid for his coffee, Partitio quickly poured himself a cup before adding a generous amount of milk. The way that Osvald’s brow furrowed and lips pursed did not go unnoticed, and Partitio couldn’t help but snicker.

Partitio moved out from behind the counter, and they sat at one of the two-person tables. Osvald placed the plate between them, and Partitio wasted no time in splitting the cake evenly in half. He watched with bated breath as Osvald lifted his mug to his lips and took a sip of his piping hot coffee.

“This tastes...fantastic,” Osvald said as a smile crossed his face for the first time, and the beautiful sight gave Partitio pause. He felt his cheeks start to heat up, so he quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Er, so...You mentioned ‘stimulating the mind’ back there, are you some kind of scientist or...?” Partitio had been so sure that he was a businessman or lawyer, but that comment from Osvald made Partitio think that he might be in a more academically-inclined career.

Osvald shrugged as he took a bite of the coffee cake, letting out a pleased hum. “You’re not far off. I actually teach chemistry at Solestia University. I moved here at the end of the previous school year, so this coming semester will be my first.”

Ah, so he was a professor! Partitio was kinda bummed that he had already graduated; Osvald seemed like he would be a very interesting teacher...not that Partitio would have needed to take a chemistry class in the first place, but having Osvald as a teacher might have incentivized him to take it as an elective.

“Well shoot, I just missed ya then!” Partitio laughed and took a sip of his drink. “I graduated last year with a business degree.”

“And you already own your own shop? Impressive.”

Partitio shrugged before scratching at his chin. “Well, I did have a head start. My pops and step dad started this company in my hometown. I’m just running this new branch here in New Delsta.”

“Still, if they trust you enough to run your own shop, then they must have complete confidence in your business sense and skills.”

“Aw shucks, you’re gonna make me blush here.” Partitio joked, but he did feel his cheeks heat up ever-so-slightly. Osvald was a rather charming man, but he seemed oblivious to the fact, and Partitio watched as Osvald finished off his coffee and his cake shortly after.

“Thank you, Partitio. Your coffee is truly a step above the rest, and the cake is rather delicious as well.”

“Thankee kindly!” Partitio’s heart swelled with pride as a toothy grin crossed his face. “I’ll admit, I was pretty nervous this morning, but you’ve been the best first customer, and I reckon that I can take on the entire day now, no sweat!”

Osvald chuckled as he folded his hands in front of him, giving Partitio a once-over. “Well, you certainly fooled me. I didn’t detect even the slightest bit of nervousness from you.”

Partitio decided to not tell Osvald that he had dropped his boom five times while cleaning because his palms had been sweating so badly, nor that he had been freaking out in the group chat with his roommates ever since he got to the shop. Instead, he took the empty dishes up to the counter and returned to the table with two fresh mugs of coffee.

As they sipped on their drinks, which were on opposite ends of the spectrum of coffee colors, Partitio rambled about his time at the university and suggested places around town for Osvald to check out, while Osvald listened, quiet and attentive. After their mugs had emptied once again, Osvald glanced at his watch and stood up.

“Ah, I need to get going. I still have to review my lecture notes before class,” he said, and Partitio nodded as he stood as well.

“And I’ve gotta get ready to open shop!” Partitio looked at the clock on the wall and saw that he had 15 minutes until the shop opened for business. He walked Osvald to the door and opened it for him, and he held out his free hand.

“Thankee kindly, Osvald, for being my very first customer!” Partitio beamed when Osvald smiled and took his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“I should be thanking you, Partitio,” Osvald said, his eyes locking with Partitio’s over his glasses, causing Partitio’s cheeks to flush pink. Golly, Osvald sure was attractive, and Partitio swallowed thickly as he tugged at his collar.

“...For helping me find a new coffee shop to frequent.”

“Does that mean that I’ll see you tomorrow?” Partitio blurted out without thinking, and his face flushed fully when Osvald nodded and tipped his hat.

“I believe so,” Osvald said as he started walking down the sidewalk, and Partitio stared at him as he paused and glanced over his shoulder, “Good luck with the rest of your opening day, and thank you again for the delicious coffee.”

Partitio’s heart raced as Osvald turned and walked away, and a huge smile slowly spread across Partitio’s face as he waved vigorously at him.

“Thankee kindly, Osvald! Have a good day, and see you tomorrow!”

Partitio watched him go, and an odd, warm and fuzzy feeling settled in his gut. Osvald seemed like a mighty fine person, and Partitio was looking forward to calling him one of his regulars.

“Oh no! Am I late?”

Partitio turned to see Agnea, one of his roommates and his very first employee, running up the sidewalk, and he grinned when she stopped in front of him, breathing heavily.

“Mornin’, Agnea!” Partitio said, chuckling at the panicked look on her face, “Don’tcha worry, we’re not open quite yet!”

Agnea let out a deep sigh. “Oh good! I saw that man leavin’ and thought I missed the grand opening, and being late on my first day wouldn’t look good at all.” She raised an eyebrow at Partitio and placed her hands on her hips. “Who was that, anyway?”

“Oh, just my very first customer! He was hangin’ out here takin’ a look through the window, so I let him in early.”

“Oh wow! How’d that go?”

Partitio filled Agnea in on his encounter with Osvald as they went inside and prepared for the grand opening. Soon enough, Partitio had flipped the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open,’ and got lost in the rhythm of running the café, but one thought managed to stay in the back of his mind: Partitio couldn’t wait to tell Osvald - his very first customer and self-proclaimed regular - all about the grand opening of Partitio and Roque Coffee Co.

#octopath traveler 2 #osvald v. vanstein #partitio yellowil #osvald x partitio #coffee shop au #aw shit here we go again lads #the ospar brainrot is strong with this one #fanfiction #jade writes fanfiction #osvitio

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