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redstarwriting · 11 months

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bestie

spider squad x black cat!fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.1k

genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO

Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really

A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post

pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie

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Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”

“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.

“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles.

And Miles points at himself.

“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”

“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”

“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”

“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”

“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”

“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”

“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”

“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”

“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”

“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”

“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”

“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”

“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.

Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”

“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”

“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”

“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”

“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”

“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”

“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”

“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”

“YE—”

“BUT!”

“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”

“By who.”

“Myself.”

“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”

“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”

You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”

“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”

“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”

Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.

He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.

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#spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderpunk #spidergwen #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o'hara

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ugh-yoongi · 3 months

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hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

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luvf4ngz · 27 days

Text

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.

"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.”

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.

This was a much better use of his time.

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.”

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out.

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.

He’s…. big.

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.

“Isn’t it?” He grins.

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #dc x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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glammiketrash · 9 months

Text

Monty didn’t attack Bonnie. Freddy did.

This post is not a joke: Ruin gives us enough clues to know that Bonnie was attacked by Freddy the day he disappeared, and Monty saw the attack.

Word count: 2457 words.

Yup, I wrote an entire essay with pictures to take the blame from a fictional gator that became my comfort character. If someone from Steel Wool is reading this: Yes, I’m ok, thanks for asking. If you want to send a cute Monty picture to my inbox, it is open and I’ll be all over the place if you do it.

Now, let me take you with me on this wild ride, because this theory fits the narrative of both Security Breach and Ruin so well that I have to clap at Steel Wool if it is actually correct and not me playing with the puzzle pieces incorrectly. So, here we go!

Bonnie, judging by the golden eyes and his travel pattern, was protecting someone like Freddy did with Gregory. Important damage was directed to the stomach hatch, where a kid could hide.

He has claw marks there, but Monty didn’t got his until the first was decommissioned and was then modified to play his bass.

The scratches in his hatch are green, but also the cracks over it. It looks like it is his base color instead of paint left by the attacker. The next video is from FazFriends, where they look at every single detail in the Ruin animatronic models. Their analysis are totally worth your attention if you like SB!

youtube

Monty has black nails, even before he was modified to play Bonnie’s bass. They also are kinda blunt, and the marks the attacker left seem more clean and sharp in the ends.

Now, there aren’t lots of animatronics that have claws. We have Roxy (and I’m guessing Foxy, if he ever existed as an animatronic different to her), The mimic/Burntrap, who doesn’t really seem an option because he’s slow and in life support in SB and sealed in Ruin, and… there’s Freddy. But, and here’s the twist, not normal Freddy, who couldn’t get through gates like Monty until he got his claws.

I’m talking about this thing.

Not only do we have environmental clues that confirm this attack, but also a key clue that wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.

Let’s start with the Prototype itself!

Check those claws. They are sturdy enough to survive all the damage this model has received, and extremely sharp at the end. Now compare Bonnie and its hand together…

It’s a perfect fit. The metal is a bit bent in the left, but if you could lower it, the finger length, the palm, even the distance and shape between the thumb and index are the same than the hole in Bonnie’s chest.

If that detail is true, all pieces of the narrative fit together. Here’s what happened, which I will explain further adding sources:

Monty saw Freddy’s prototype attacking Bonnie (who was in safe mode) in Gator Golf’s catwalks. The hurricane hole-in-one was activated, causing them both to fall. He could see the prototype losing its head and taking damage to its leg, but Bonnie was nowhere: he was either able to go back to Bonnie Bowl by himself using the distraction or the fall knocked him out and was dragged there, where he was heavily damaged.

This next part is not so clear, so I’ll give you my version of what I think happened that night: Bonnie alerted police that a kid was in danger. They show up, but Vanessa sent them away, claiming she was the only person there and it was a prank call (False Alarm message in SB). Vanny uses Bonnie’s trust on Freddy against him: she sends the prototype to go after the kid and him. He makes it to Monty’s, where the hurricane causes damage to the prototype, and is then finally attacked and disassembled behind his attraction to silence him and bury any clue or what happened (his parts are all over the place, one of his arms has weel marks, and Ruin follows the PQ ending where Freddy is disassembled. In SB, endos come out from the lines to attack us, and in Ruin we see the zone where his vanity is infested with STAFF robots, both in its normal version and in VR, where a giant STAFF robot is seen being dragged to a door while it leaves scratch marks on the floor).

Fazbear Entertainment pretended they actually looked for Bonnie and found nothing at all. As a final punishment for his disobedience he was actively being erased from existence: most of his art was removed, and some ask for a re-theme of his attraction (Re-theme SB message). They make Monty the main bassist, giving him his green room too.

These changes are being quickly pushed after his decommission: Bonnie still has power when we find him, Monty falls from the catwalks “a month ago” and snaps in half, a place where he goes every time he skips a performance (Monty Mischief SB message), people constantly ask for Bonnie and there isn’t an approved answer to give, the bowling alley still wasn’t given a re-theme after taking out most of Bonnie’s images.

Despite FazEnt efforts, Bonnie is remembered, specially by a depressed Monty.

His body was modified, he was given his bass, his glasses, his room, his role. The higher ups clapped thinking about the possibility of him being even more popular than Bonnie, his disappearance becoming yet another opportunity to make money.

And it was Freddy’s prototype’s fault. His normal life, the person he admired the most, his own body, were taken from him because of him.

From that day, and after getting new claws, his attitude becomes obsessive, endlessly searching for what was left of Bonnie after the rest gave up: destroying fences to explore the undergrounds, constantly missing shows and always being found in the catwalks, even after being snapped in half by the hole-in-one bucket, trying to guess where his body was. His last known location was his attraction, so he should still be there somewhere, isn’t it?

Let me repeat this: he prefers looking for Bonnie in the catwalks even at risk of his own integrity than performing.

There are more details that show us he does care for him: there are four official images left of Glamrock Bonnie in the PizzaPlex, three of them in Monty’s ride, the last one at the entrance of his own attraction, where some animations can still be seen. These cutouts are in perfect shape, while Freddy’s is light off.

There is also a headless Freddy statue that once you go to FazerBlast screams “prototype”.

It looks like it’s been decapitated by a hurricane, some “cables” coming out of its head like the prototype, which has cables coming out of its neck.

This damage couldn’t have been caused by the earthquake: the head should had fallen to the ground instead of being pinned on the hurricane. Plus, it doesn’t match the theme of the ride, based on cutouts, and while the rest of the elements are placed in scenarios and their composition is clearly studied, this statue breaks the symmetry of the hurricane’s eye element, that is supposed to give you the illusion that you are entering its eye and being pushed out to the main attraction.

What’s more, in a story exclusively about Monty’s past and how he became a solo bassist in the PizzaPlex thanks to Bonnie, attracting the same amount of people than the Glamrocks themselves, a Freddy statue at the end doesn’t make any sense sense at all… Unless it was put there with a very particular purpose.

I like to think it’s part of an environmental story telling from Steel Wool, specially when you read the rest of clues together.

There’s more to say about this statue than the lack of a head: look at its leg damage, and how it matches the prototype’s heavily damaged one, and how the hand that is visible reflects the light making it look like it has long claws despite Freddy having short ones like the rest of the band.

It also has two blue long lines through his chest that resemble the ones in Bonnie’s.

If you still have doubt about how it is part of a scene representing the night of the attack, then you should know there is an easter egg here: if you follow the part of the tornado that goes up, you can see a Bonnie cutout at the very top of it. He’s far away from the rest of the scene and he looks like if he was being knocked by the tornado. If you zoom to look at his face, you can see he has a worried expression.

Monty didn’t destroy any of the images of Bonnie or his previous iterations, not the cutouts, not this poster, not the bass that belonged to him, even after causing damage to his room.

There is a detail in Gator Golf that is easy to miss: An intact poster of the original Bonnie near a log he uses as a hideout in Ruin (we see him quickly going out of it when we approach it).

He looks similar to the illustration at the entrance of Bonnie Bowl, but this image is not very charming. He looks half dead, yeah...? If you then go to Bonnie’s, some big screens are still on and advertising pizza. When you wear the mask, they change to a glitched version of the Bonnie animation, where his eyes go blank in a similar way to this poster.

This spot couldn’t have been used by Vanny: it is decorated exactly like the rest of Gator Golf in the base game, which ends with us saving Vanessa and exiting the PizzaPlex together.

The poster also has a drawing of Freddy stuck on it. In this chapter you can also find the Bonnie’s piñata collectible, the first time we can see his Glamrock design and the first clue of him having suffered an attack (it has a big gash in his chest).

He could have easily taken it down if he wanted, specially when it is so close to his hideout and he’s in such a volatile state, but he keeps it right beside it.

But the real Freddy (or, at least, things that resemble him) seems to cause some kind of reaction even in the base game, yes?

The most common example in Security Breach is the arcade version of Monty’s Gator Golf. There are two possible readings for it, depending on if you think it represents Monty’s mind or if you think it has been hacked to change his behavior.

Hole 1 depicts Freddy separated from the group, a big distance between them. Hole 9 shows him in a dumpster, and Chica, Roxy and Monty playing together. He’s never part of the group, so either Monty hates him or he was hacked so he would hate him, right?

But the main show were he looks happily at him while playing, the fact that he never attacks him even after being hacked, the presence of images of him on other holes all perfectly light and ok like this balloon, and the eye color difference between Hole 1 and 9, make me think Steel Wool is trying to tell us a way different story.

The Freddy in the dumpster is the only one with golden eyes. Hole 9 represents what is happening the night we play as Gregory, the AR part of the AR-cade, and of the main reasons the Monty taking down theory was so popular.

That night, Roxy, Chica and him are working on finding the kid to the point that their cases crack and get dirty, while Freddy not only glitched at the start of the show hours before, but is now also walking around the PizzaPlex doing NOTHING instead of helping (apparently).

It’s the animatronic equivalent of a group project were one of the members does nothing, so you have to do their part and then they show up and are praised. It makes sense he would be angry at the situation and think he’s trash, but even so, there are no real confrontations between them.

But what about Hole 1, then? The answer is the fireflies. There are some fireflies at the left part, but the right, where Freddy is looking, has other set of lights. If you calculate the distance from Chica to him, the center is almost where the hole is, the part of the arcade that is supposed to drag your attention. Having an empty space there feels uncomfortable and a very questionable decision from whomever designed the scene, but if this one is a reflection from reality or Monty’s current mind state, why aren’t Freddy’s eyes gold?

Well, I don’t think he is separated from his band.

I think someone is missing from the picture instead.

Bonnie was erased from the Arcade.

As it was said, these changes were quick and non-planned: they deleted his model from the arcade, but had no time to move and reprogram the positions of the rest of the characters so the space between them was filled. As a consequence, when you play this level, your attention is taken from the hole to the distance between them.

It is void, awkward, it makes you uncomfortable. You know something is missing, but you can’t quite tell what it is yet. It makes you wish there was one more character there even before you knew there actually was.

Once you learn what happened, how his story ties to the place this scenario represents, the void he left in Freddy and Monty specifically, Hole 1 gains a new meaning, and it hits you. When you go back to the PizzaPlex as Cassie and play the arcade, there’s no joy left there. No fireflies, no Glamrocks, just ruins. Two pairs of red eyes and a pile of Nightmare STAFF bots. That’s all that’s left.

But if you still need one more clue to convince you that the prototype was the one that attacked Bonnie, then let me tell you there is a final one that wouldn’t make sense otherwise:

The AR collectibles dialogue.

Cassie always makes a commentary about the things she finds: Monty’s AR plushie being very glitchy, how she wants to add Roxy’s one to her collection, how the her father wouldn’t tell her why they replaced Bonnie and how he was his dad’s favorite…

But she also asks him what happened to him, and gets an answer when she gets the last collectible.

The AR Golden Bonnie is hidden in Bonnie Bowl, next to a Wet Floor Sign bot.

She hasn’t been to Fazer Blast yet.

But the description answers the question that she asked him: a prototype.

Bonnie was decommissioned by Freddy’s prototype.

And the only ones that know are a kid lead to her death that can hear his agony through the Wet Floor Bots and unreal collectibles, and an animatronic blamed for his death and told he’ll never be him, obsessed with his loss and with finding whatever is left of the person that he admired the most and helped him become the star he once was.

#ruin spoilers #cassie fnaf #fnaf ruin spoilers #fnaf spoilers #montgomery gator #bonnie bunny #glamrock bonnie #ruin dlc spoilers #security breach #Monty didn't decommission Bonnie #fnaf theories #Glamrock Freddy #prototype freddy #ruin prototype #monty gator #the monty is innocent tag

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literaryavenger · 23 days

Text

Thoughtful

Summary: You find something of Bucky's.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!

Masterlist

“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.

He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.

Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.

You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.

You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.

Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.

“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.

“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”

Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.

You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.

“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”

“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.

So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his.

“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.

“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”

“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.

You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.

You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.

“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”

He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.

After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”

You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.

“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags.

He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.

Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.

You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.

“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”

Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.

You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.

Part 2

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totheblood · 7 months

Text

all-american bitch!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: mostly fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe.

a/n:i wrote this for my monthly challenge in our writing server, so if you see GUTS themed ellie and abby fics... that's why.... so i chose the song, all american bitch because i thought it would be a difficult write and wanted to challenge myself. so this one is a little shorter and i hope you enjoy! AI AUDIO in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"with perfect all-american lips."

ellie wanted to hate you.

with every fiber in her being, she wanted to hate you. but as she sat in the student center, laptop open and earbuds in, she couldn’t help but stare. from her place at the table she could see you wide-eyed and grinning, talking to a group of people she didn’t know. when you laughed you touched the shoulder of the guy to your right, but when you smiled you leaned into the girl to your left. she noticed how you looked at people when they spoke, hanging onto every word they were saying. every time the group would laugh at a joke or statement you made, she watched as you nervously fiddled with the necklace loosely hung around your neck with your initial on it.

she wanted to hate you but she didn’t. instead, she hated everything she thought you represented. the mean girls in the movies or the girl next door. you were somehow all of it wrapped up in one. she didn’t know you at all but somehow you were the perfect all-american -

“bitch!” a girl sitting across from you screamed, throwing her full cup of coke onto your face, causing everyone to stand up and gasp. ellie stood up with them, removing her headphones and ignoring the pull of dina’s hand, asking her what she was doing.

you wiped the sticky liquid from your eyes, and tried to get as much of it off your face so you could walk back to your dorm. when you began picking up your things and noticed no one was going to follow you, ask if you were okay, or defend you, a tear formed in your eye. you, however, was determined to not cry in front of most of the people that attended this school. instead, you scurried off as quickly as you could.

ellie didn’t even notice she was following you till the brisk fall air hit her face. your feet were moving faster than her mind was going, but she was determined to catch up.

“hey,” she called out. you didn’t turn around though, you just kept walking. from where she was she could hear your sniffles, “hey! are you okay?”

that got your attention. you stopped, not turning around, and waited for ellie to circle around you and say something.

“are you okay?” she asked again, watching your stunned face. she ignored the bubbling in her stomach at being this close to you. she could see every detail of your face, every crease, every freckle, and every pore. you were prettier up close, “i saw what happened back there… it looked brutal.”

“i’m,” a tear slipped from your face and onto your already damp clothes, ellie was sooooo not looking at your tits right now, “i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” she asked again, eyes searching your face for an answer, “none of your friends came to check on you?”

“i guess they aren’t really friends, huh,” you laughed dryly, wiping at your eye again.

“just shitty ones,” she joked back, “look, do you want me to help you get cleaned up? maybe you can vent to me about whatever the fuck that just was.

your eyes scanned her face this time, “why would you do that? you don’t know me?”

“i think you may be in need of some new friends,” she smiled, making you crack a small one.

“very true.”

------

ellie helped wipe the coke off your face and neck. since it had been sitting on your skin for a while it had gone sticky, and you were getting choked up trying to wipe everything off. plus, ellie was so nice and tender, gently rubbing at your skin and making sure she wasn’t rubbing to hard. she held your face in her hand, turning it and using your roomates expensive facewash to get it clean. when it came to your chest she backed up, saying a, “i shouldn’t.”

“why?” you asked, “we’re both girls.”

“i think i’m supposed to ask you out on a date before doing that.” she chuckled, stepping back a little further, expecting rejection, a slap in the face, anything.

“oh,” you said, eyeing her up and down, head-turning and lips pursed when you saw her tattoos, “could have figured from the tattoo alone.”

“hey! are you saying my tattoo makes me look gay?” she laughed, a big bright smile on her face. this time when you smiled you showed your teeth. ellie’s face turned a bright red, as she looked down. she made you smile, she was proud of that.

“it’s a dead giveaway that you’re gay,” you giggled again. ellie looked up at you, squinting her eyes.

“if you knew that i was gay then, why did you let me come in and?” ellie’s voice got quiet, she didn’t want you to think she was a creep. it’s not like she came in here to flirt with you, or did she. the way you were looking at her was making all her thoughts mesh together into slush.

“i don’t know,” your voice was teasing, you were fucking teasing her, “maybe i wanted a cute girl to come in here and clean me up.”

“cute?” ellie laughed.

“yeah, cute,” you repeated, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, “like how you’re blushing right now. that’s cute.”

ellie’s face got even redder somehow, causing her to hang her head and pinch the bridge of her nose, “fuck.”

“were you going for hot?” you asked, reaching for her from your place on the bathroom counter, pulling at the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt so she would move closer to you.

“what about my t-shirt doesn’t scream hot?” she looked up now, and fuck was she close to you.

“cute and funny,” you smiled, eyes bright, “who would’ve thought?”

ellie looked away again, flustered still, but still in your grasp, “you forgot respectable.”

you laughed and ellie was close enough to feel your breath on her neck. she shivered, but her eyes met yours again.

“when are you going to ask?” you whispered, voice low.

“what?”

“the date?” you clarified, making her smile grow again.

“oh, yeah,” she rubbed the back of her neck nervously, “do you want to go on a date with me?”

“yes.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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mayearies · 8 months

Text

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

❛ KISSIN YOU CRAZY ❜

miles morales

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

genre: suggestive | warnings: miles ooc, kissing, spanish translations: desea averiguarlo? / you want to find out? authors input: i wanted to make more borderline cocky miles i miss it also i cant fucking find graphics for stories anymore im actually gonna start shitting myself also ik i cant write kissing scenes dont rn

summary: turns out miles is a really good kisser

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

miles liked anything to do with your body, believe it or not. he would get the most out of cuddling with you, kissing you, or just simply holding your hand. but he had a tendency to ask one thing any time he would sit down:

“can you come sit on my lap?”

sometimes he wouldnt even ask. he would just pull you on top of him or give you a pleading stare. he honestly wouldnt pay much attention to you. he would just want you close to him. if you wanted to talk to him, he would be down for that always. hell, he would drop what he’s doing and turn his attention to you any day of the week.

wanna guess how you got here? yeah, he just led you to his desk and placed you on top of him so he could draw. take it as you’re a stuffed animal he wouldn’t want to misplace.

but stuffed animals have feelings too. he didn’t say a word to you. he just rested his head over your shoulder as his finger danced on your thigh in a rhythm, the one matching his headphones. you didnt like being ignored while in this state. you couldnt even get off him.

you bit your cheek as your face held an expression of annoyance. “miles?”

he didnt answer. but you knew he heard you since the tapping on your thigh slowed down and the sound of markers against the paper increased. he liked teasing you like this. and you knew just the way to break him: neck kisses!

he was an absolute sucker for kisses in general. his forehead and his neck were his favorite places for you to kiss. everytime you would, he would giggle a little bit before breaking, “what? what’s up, darling?”

“you never look at me even after i do this for you!” “mmm? do you want something?”“a kiss would be nice. all you give is cheap forehead kisses.”

miles directed his eyes to yours. soon leaving to look at your lips which were lightly glazed with lipgloss. he held a playful smirk before looking back up at your face. “hm. cheap kisses, huh?”

“i bet you aren’t even that good of a kisser, miles.” “hah. desea averiguarlo, mami?”

oh wow. you didnt expect that. or this. despite your continuous reminders for him to put on chapstick, his lips were really soft and smooth. even smoother with your lipgloss on it.

the thing is, miles has never kissed you like this before. he would give you longing kisses like this anywhere but your lips. you thought he did it because he was nervous. turns out he was, but had just played it off cool. but he pulled all the right strings first try.

something about his hand stroking your thigh lightly, the biting of your lip as your lips danced with one another did something for you. i mean, as it should.

pulling away with a playful smirk, he leaned into your ear. “so? did you find out or do i gotta demonstrate again? you got enough attention for the hour now?”

you playfully rolled your eyes as you slipped from his grasp to go sit on the couch and turn on a movie leaving miles stunned a little. nonetheless, he followed you. snuggling against your chest as he pulled you into his lap once more. “what we watchin’, missy?”

“missing.” “ohhh.. y’know what’s really missing?” “..what?” “your last name changed to ‘morales’.”“stop using those jokes you got from peter. just because he got to keep mj with them doesn’t mean you’ll get to keep me.” “yes ma’am.”

©hiimayee

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wosoamazing · 3 months

Text

The Call Up

Summary: Leah's sister chooses a different national team and she isn't happy

Warnings: IDK, angry Leah??, if there is more let me know and I will add them.

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first fic, I'm thinking of turning this into a series I guess, kind of following Leah's sister and also Leah. I'm open to any feedback and also please send in any requests. I hope you like it. Also thank you to @girlgenius1111 for giving me the confidence to post this.

You and your sister were sitting in your living room, surrounded by your team-mates, having a mini team bonding day, it was mostly filled with phones ringing and “I’m in”s. Today was call up day for the senior international break that was coming up, everyone in the room had gotten a call except you, but you weren’t expecting a call, at 16 you were lucky to be in the Arsenal Women’s team, a senior call up was not something you expect. So, when the activities of the room were interrupted by a phone ringing everyone was confused no one else was let to get a call. Their eyes all darted the room checking they hadn’t forgotten someone before they all landed on you.

You sat there holding you buzzing phone, “I guess I better take this”, you stood up and walked out of the now silent room swiping to accept the call.

“Hello, this is Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered, every time you answered the phone differently you received a lecture from your sister, so answering the phone this way was now habit.

“Hello Y/N, it’s Tony Gustavsson, the Matilda’s head coach,”

“Yeah, I know,” you heard him chuckle, shit you said that out loud “Sorry, I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said that”.

You were sure this was a call up, it wasn’t necessarily the call up you expected but secretly it was the call up you always wished for.

“No, no it’s all good. I’m just calling to ask if you would like to join me and my staff and the Matilda’s on international break, you are really quite talented, and we think you could bring a lot to the team.”

“Oh my God, yes, yes, yes, I would love too! Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad, you’ll get an email soon with all the details you’ll need, I look forward to seeing you”.

“Thank you, bye”.

“Bye” he said as he hung up.

It was an unexpected call up but a warmly welcomed called up. You had lived in your sister’s shadow for years; yeah sure you were 16 and in the Arsenal Women’s team but you couldn’t help feel that your sister had something to do with it. Everything you ever did was because of her, your parents put you in football because she played it. You were an avid Arsenal support because that was her team. You always knew one day you would have to choose a national team, but you didn’t expect it so had never actually talked to anyone about it. You had spent your whole life living in England however you were born in Australia which meant you were a dual citizen and could play for either team. You had just chosen which team would be your national team forever without even a second thought.

You were in shock as you walked back into the room that held all the girls, you were on cloud nine, but soon you would fall from that cloud.

“What’s wrong” Leah asked.

“I got a call up”.

“What but under 18s call ups aren’t until next week” you were always called up to the under 18 Lionesses even though you were still eligible to play in their under 16s, so it was fair for her to assume the call up was for that team. There was a silence as you slowly nodded, a small grin appeared on her face growing larger by the millisecond until she screeched “You’re coming on international break with us!”

“Um… Well not exactly” She lost her grin immediately. Was this the right choice?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going on international break with you, but I am going on international break with a senior team” you replied as you looked around the room everyone’s faces were plastered with absolute confusion, expect for one, Steph Catley, in this moment she held a small barely noticeable smirk on her face, she seemed to know something the rest of them didn’t.

“Well-“, you continued however you were cut off by your phone ringing, “Sorry I should take this” you say as you walk away, you knew who this was, you had remember this number off by heart.

“Hello, it’s Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Sarina Wiegman, I was wondering if you would like to join me and the team for international break, my staff and I have been watching you and your quite the powerhouse.”

“Um, I’m really sorry Sarina, thank you so much for the offer but I’m going to have to turn it down”.

“Oh okay-“, she was cut off as you hung up on her. You stood there for a minute soaking it all in before starting to walk back in.

“So?” your sister questioned, you were about to speak but your sisters phone rang “Sorry its Sarina,” you wished you could just disappear, that second, you knew exactly what Sarina was going to say to her, Leah had already received her call up and it was no coincidence that Sarina was calling her just after you hung up on her.

“Hi Sarina, how are-” it seemed she was cut off, “Okay. Oh. Yep. Thank you. Will do, bye” and just like that the call was over.

“Um why did Sarina just call me to say you turned now her offer for you to join us on international break, and worse hang up and not listen to her fish?” The girls’ jaws dropped simultaneously in disbelief, expect for Steph whose smirk had grown larger.

“Because I’m already going on international break like I said” you reply.

“But with who?”

“I think you’re all forgetting something” Steph chimed in. Leah flashed her a glance, Steph’s grin caused Leah’s confused, annoyed and shocked mix of a face to turn into one of almost disappointment and anger.

“What.” you nod, she had realised and there was no turning back now “No.” You smirk “You didn’t. How could you. You know what I don’t even care anymore,” and with that your sister stormed out of living room down to her bedroom and slammed the door, but it opened again “If I was you I would find a place to stay for tonight, and maybe ever,” the door slammed again.

A tear rolled down your check and you let out a shaky breath. “Hey, come here it’s alright,” Steph said softly, holding her arms out gesturing to you. You climbed onto her lap and she embraced you in a tight warm hug.

“Wait, but can someone catch me up, I’m still so confused” Beth piped out, causing some of the girls to giggle.

“Do you want to tell them, or do you want me to?” Steph whispered to you.

“I will.”

You shuffled in Steph’s lap so that you were facing the girls. “I um… well, the first phone call I got was from Tony.” you took a deep breath, Steph gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze “Tony Gustavsson. He, um, he asked me if I wanted to join him and the Matilda’s for their international break, and um, well I-I said that I would love to….”

“Wait, but how are you eligible?” Beth asked, if she’d forgotten they must have all forgotten.

“I was born in Australia, Dad was posted at one of their army training bases by the UK military, because of some agreement between Australia and the UK in terms of training or something. Leah was about 10. Mum fell pregnant with Jacob and I and we were born there, but we moved back here, to England, when I was about one and have lived here ever since. But it does mean I’m a dual citizen meaning I was eligible for both teams”. Jacob was your annoying twin brother that’s all there is to say about him.

“Wait but is Leah?” “That is so cool” “Congratulations” “Don’t worry about Leah she will get over herself.” the girls all spoke at once.

“No Leah isn’t but Dad, Jacob and I are”, they all came over and gave me a big hug.

“We might just go check on Leah if that is okay” Beth, Kim, Viv, Katie, and Lia said. I nodded at them, and they turned around to go find Leah.

“We’re going to head off, if we want Amanda to be packed in time to go to camp, we better get her home now” Stina said “Hey,” Amanda replied as she was offended. Majority of the team followed them out, Caitlin showing them out before locking the door and coming back to join Kyra, you and Steph, positioning herself in the middle of where you and Steph were placed on the couch and where Kyra was sitting on the floor, by sitting down on the end of the couch.

Kyra still held the huge grin on her face that had appeared earlier when you said Tony called you. Her cheesy grin going ear to ear and knowing what she was thinking about made you giggle slightly. At this Steph and Caitlin looked over to her, when Caitlin playfully hit her. “Hey! What was that for?” she said like a child.

“You’re not going to be allowed to cause mischief in Aus, Sam won’t let that fly, you know that”, Kyra dramatically pouted with an “Oh” which caused you to giggle again and the older two to chuckle.

“You excited bug?” “Do you want us to help you pack?” “It’s going to be so cool having you on the team” they all stated. Another tear rolled down your check at these words, however this time it wasn’t a lone tear, it was followed by another and another until suddenly you were sobbing. “Hey, hey, hey,” Steph calmly said as she turned you back around to face her and wrapped you in a nice warm tight hug, in efforts to calm you down. Caitlin scooted closer to you and Steph and started to rub your back. Once you had calmed down slightly Steph let go of you and wiped the tears from your face whilst also slightly lifting your head, so you looked at her.

“What’s up?” She questioned.

“I-I,” you stuttered as another tear rolled down your face, which you wiped away with your hand, you went to put you hand back towards your chest in efforts to keep the tight ball your body had formed, but it was intercepted as someone else took it in their hand. You looked up and it was Kyra, she must’ve moved to sit next to you guys when you were crying. Kyra gave you a warm smile to which you returned before you turn your head to face Steph again. “W-What, if, this isn’t,” another shaky breath left your body before you could continue “What if this isn’t the right decision, maybe I just decided this in spite of Leah and not for me.” You spit out, the tears start fall faster again.

“Oh baby, it’s okay to be unsure, but I know that you know this is the right decision. I remember you telling me you wanted to be on my team on your second day at Arsenal, I replied to you ‘well that dream came true’, to which you looked at me like I had three heads and said ‘No, I want to be a Matilda’.” All four of you giggle before Steph continued “I think that was one of the first, actually no it was the first thing you said to me, and you were so admit and sure about it, it was what you wanted to do, and it still is, and maybe part of you wants to do it to go against Leah and prove to yourself and to Leah and maybe even your family, that you aren’t Leah’s Mini Me, that you are, you, and not her shadow but even doing it for that reason doesn’t mean you’re not doing it for you” you hum in reply, as you soaked in everything Steph had said and thought about it.

“Does Leah hate me now?” you ask thinking back to her initial reaction.

“No, no she doesn’t” Caitlin spoke this time.

“She might,” Kyra added food for thought, “Oi Kyra don’t,” Steph told Kyra off “No she doesn’t hate you, she just overreacted that’s all, and I think she felt a bit caught off guard, after all no one else knew you were thinking about choosing the Matilda’s over the Lionesses.” Content with her answer you nodded, leaning back in for a hug, that’s how you four remained for the next few minutes, you in Steph’s lap, her hugging you, Caitlin’s hand still on your back and your hand holding Kyra’s. That was until you were interrupted.

Soft footsteps were followed by Beth’s voice “See I told you she was, and she would be fine” you could even hear Beth’s ‘I’m right’ smirk in her voice.

You lifted your head and turned it around to see you sister standing there surrounded by your older teammates, her tearstained, red slightly puffy face matched yours. As she walked towards you, Caitlin’s hand left you back. Letting go of Kyra’s hand you glanced at Steph who nodded before you once again found yourself shuffling in her lap, this time turning around to face your sister. She bobbed down in front of you taking both your hands in hers.

“Bug, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have behaved like that.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as she glanced up at Steph who gave her a reassuring smile and said, “It’s okay, she’s okay, we will look after her”, you watched your sister sit down on the couch and gesture for you to come over to her, with that you left Steph’s lap and climbed onto your sister’s lap.

Steph, Caitlin and Kyra communicated silently before standing up and following the others into the kitchen leaving you and your sister alone in the living room. You could hear that the others were speaking but you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you just continue to sit in your sister’s lap enjoying her warm embrace for a moment before looking up to her, and saying “I love you.”

“I love you too bug, so so so much” she said as a tear rolled down her check, “and I’m really sorry for the way I reacted, I-I, I just didn’t really expect it and was caught off guard slightly, but the girls helped me realised I never actually heard you say you wanted to join the Lionesses, we never spoke about it, it was just something that I assumed, something I thought was a given, but it was never a given, you were always eligible for two national teams, and it does make sense as to why you choose them. But I shouldn’t reacted that way and I really regret saying the things I said.”

“It’s okay” you said as you smiled at her.

“But bug it really isn’t, and I am very very sorry.” you nodded burying your head in her chest.

“Bug,” you looked up at her whilst rolling your eyes, how many times does she have to say bug in one moment. Bug was her nickname for you (there is a long story behind how it came about) and whilst you didn’t mind it she was the only one allowed to use it generally, you didn’t mind if the other girls used it when you were upset, or sick but in general it was prohibited, however maybe she needed to be prohibited from using it too. She chucked at your reaction before continuing “I am really proud of you, you know that. Getting a senior call up at 16, to a different team than your youth national team, that really is something bug, and I’ve never said it, but you really are amazing you know that, you are so talented and driven-”

“That’s a lie” she was cut off by Katie, to your surprise the rest of the girls were now standing in the living room, you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t realise they were there, and by her slight jump neither did your sister. They handed you and your sister some water before sitting down around you two. You looked at Katie, who realised what you were ‘saying’ and continued “Well the never said it part is wrong, the amazing talented part is just straight facts,” you smiled at Katie, “but honestly, I don’t think a training goes by where she doesn’t say something along the lines of you being amazing.”

“Yeah honestly, it’s always like ‘did you see that?’” Viv spoke up before the rest joined in mocking your sister.

“Oh my God, she really is good isn’t she”.

“She might be better than you”.

“That was amazing”.

“I don’t think I was that good at her age, well maybe I was but you weren’t”.

You laughed at your sister’s expense. “But she is not wrong,” your captain Kim said before the room fell to silence, your head lay on your sister’s chest.

“Well, we best get going” Lia states, the others responded with many yeahs before getting up. “No stay,” you quickly spat out whilst they were all gathering their things to leave, you looked up to your sister, who after today’s events melted at your pleading little face, she looked up at the girls who were all looking at her awaiting a response.

“Guys, I mean you’re welcome to stay if you want, we are more than happy for you to stay, but if you have anything important on you don’t have to stay” she sighed.

“What else would we have on?” Kim questioned as they all sat down, someone turned on the TV causing some of them to have a heated argument over what to watch, you would normally be the ringleader in these arguments however today you just wanted to stay in your sister’s comfort, feeling slightly tired. You felt the slight dip in the couch, as someone sat down next to Leah, if anything slightly oddly close, but a familiar sent met your nose and you knew who it was and so you were content, the scent belonged to a person who had be coming over to your house more often recently, you didn’t mind her presence though, she made your sister happy and she could actually cook.

_________________

The sudden knock at the door woke you from your nap, you rubbed your eyes as the girls all looked at you some of them cooing. You heard another knock at the door followed by your sister’s “Oh Shit”.

“What?” one of the girls questioned.

“It’s our parents and the evil twin” you said not bothering to move from you position on your sister, however your position was different to the one you were in before your nap, she must’ve gotten up at some stage.

“I forgot they were coming over,” she said whilst trying to get up, her movement was only to be met with your grumbles. Lia went over and let you parents in. Once they stood in the living room you decided to get up and go greet them.

All the girls said hello to them too before Kim said, “Well we best head off, we will leave you to your family night.”

Your Mum gave Kim a tap on the arm before saying, “no nonsense you girls are welcome to stay, you’re family after all, just in a different way. And plus, Leah clearly forgot we were coming”.

“Oh okay, thank you. We’ve just had a bit of a tough day, most likely why Leah forgot.” Kim stated trying to help Leah’s case.

“Yes, I gathered that, anyone mind getting me up to date” Mum replied.

“I got a senior team call up!” you said excitedly.

“That’s fantastic!” “Well done sweetheart” your parents reply “Well, it’s official I’m the failure of the family” your twin brother joked.

“I’m going to be a Matilda” you said slightly more cautiously, there was a moment of silence, and you were unable to read your parents faces.

“Well, I did always like the Aussies” Your Dad remarked.

“That’s amazing sweetheart” they both pulled you in for a hug whilst looking around the room still a little confused, having a senior team call up wouldn’t be the reason their youngest daughter was fast asleep on their eldest’s lap when they got not, nor does it explain Leah’s guilty face, it wasn’t a I’m sorry I forgot guilty face, it was something else.

“Why don’t I take you to the kitchen, so you can grab a glass of water,” Kim said as they followed her in, whilst they knew where the kitchen was, they knew there was an implied meaning to what Kim had said, and apparently Jacob did too, “Wait for me, I want in on the tea” Jacob yelled running after them.

Jacob came running back in, your parents and Kim following shortly after. “High five” Jacob yelled as you high fived him. “What was that for?” You asked.

“For pissing of Patsy over there” you chuckled at his reply. He insisted on calling you sister Patsy.

“Well, I’m thinking Pizza and maybe a beer in celebration, anyone else?” You Dad asked, everyone in the room cheered.

The rest of the night was spent eating, drinking (one beers each as you all had training tomorrow), watching TV and just chilling. You soaked it all up, the moment, the feeling, the love, as your family, both blood and chosen, celebrated in your honour.

#woso x reader #woso community #arsenal wfc #woso #woso fanfics #leah williamson #awfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #arsenal women #matildas #auswnt #woso imagine #lionesses #womens football #woso soccer

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munson-blurbs · 6 months

Note

I would actually LOVE to read about the proposal! How did it go down? Was Harris there? I think a blurb about that would be really special :)

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: A lazy Sunday morning turns into something much more special, thanks to your two favorite guys.

Warnings: pretty much none, just proposal fluff and a smidge of suggestive language at the end

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The proposal/Harris calling Ms. Sweetheart "mommy" was also requested by @hippiefairy02, @cheesewritings, @enam3l, @peachysink, and a handful of anons!

March 1998

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

Harris’s soft voice doesn’t carry over the sounds of running water and the sponge squelching soap bubbles along the lip of a coffee mug, the remnants of a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. He clears his throat and tries again, tugging on the back of your bathrobe as he shouts.

“Ms. Sweetheart?!”

You jump, pulled from your own thoughts, nearly dropping the cup among the sea of dishes cluttering the sink. Eddie had made scrambled eggs and toast for the three of you; a gesture you’d thoroughly enjoyed until you realized that the clean-up fell on your shoulders.

“Jeez, Har. What’s the emergency?” You catch your breath, allowing your heart rate to settle back to a normal rhythm, and shut off the faucet.

Harris wrinkles his nose, the bridge creasing in confusion. “There’s no ‘mergency,” he says, releasing his grasp and motioning for you to follow him. “I gotta show you something.”

You oblige with a soft laugh, haphazardly grabbing a dish towel to wipe the suds from your hands and wrists, and let him lead you to the kitchen table. Crayons are strewn across it, blues and purples and reds intermingled around his artwork.

“Whatcha drawing?” you ask, hands bracing the back of the chair he’s plopped down on. You peer over his shoulder and smile. It’s a picture of you, Eddie, and him. A full-fledged kindergartener, he’s been adding more details to his stick-figure family portraits: a vase of wildflowers sits atop a sienna oval table, black squares and rectangles above it represent the various photo frames hanging on the kitchen wall. This picture looks different than Harris’s usual set-up; he typically draws himself in the middle of you and Eddie, each of his hands overlapping yours and his dad’s. Today, he’s drawn you, then Eddie, then him. And your hands aren’t linked; instead, he’s used a silver crayon to place something in Eddie’s cartoon palm.

You furrow your brows and gesture towards the mystery object. “What’s that, Har?” It’s better not to guess, lest you say the wrong thing and inadvertently offend him. Just last week, you’d asked him if a small blue object in the sky was a bird, and he was on the verge of tears trying to explain that it was a UFO.

“Can’t you see the alien?” he’d wailed, pointing to a little green dot you’d assumed was a rogue eye.

Now, Harris grins. “It’s a proposing ring!” he announces. “That’s why you’re smiling so big!” Sure enough, the curved line of sketch-you’s mouth extends to both cheeks.

Real-you can’t help but mimic the beaming expression. Just the idea of Eddie proposing to you has you feeling giddy. You’d marry him tomorrow if you could; all he has to do is ask. Though your pulse quickens at the thought, you don’t want to build up Harris’s hopes for something that may not happen for a while. Pressing a kiss to his scalp with a soft giggle, you remark, “A proposing ring? That’s so silly!”

“Is it?”

The unexpected sound of Eddie’s voice has you whirling around, startled for the second time this morning. He’s still wearing his pajamas, flannel pants perfectly complementing your own cozy attire. He bites the inside of his lip, and when he takes your hand in his, you can feel it tremble slightly.

“Sweetheart, I…” he starts, trying to remember the speech he had rehearsed an absurd amount of times. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Sweetheart, I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night grateful for you. Never in my life did I think I would find someone who loved me the way you do; someone who loves my son like he’s their own.” He chokes up at the last part, blinking back the tears so he can press on. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I landed such an incredible, thoughtful, beautiful woman.”

You offer a small laugh, slightly easing his nerves, and he manages to smile. “You…you’re the love of my life, and my world is infinitely better with you in it,” he continues, pulling a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and sinking onto one knee. With shaky fingers, he opens the box to reveal a princess-cut diamond on a thin silver band. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god.” Elation and disbelief simultaneously surge through you, eyes going misty as the realization hits you. Eddie’s actually proposing. He wants you to be his wife, and he wants to be your husband. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” You’re laughing and crying, tears streaming down your cheeks; you sloppily wipe them away with the back of your hand.

Eddie stands up, the ring still in its case. You expect him to slide it onto your fourth finger; instead, he turns to Harris with a knowing expression. “Your turn, Har.”

Before you can question it further, Harris takes your hand in his, just like Eddie had. “Ms. Sweetheart,” he looks up at you with wide, exuberant eyes, “will you be my mommy?”

You scoop him up into your arms; he’s almost too tall for you to do it comfortably, and it pangs at your heart. “Yes, I will be your mommy, Harris!” You kiss his cheek with an exaggerated mwah, placing him back on the ground as he excitedly kicks his feet.

With that, Eddie puts the engagement ring on your finger triumphantly, pulling you in for a hug that squeezes the breath out of your lungs. His lips find yours without hesitation, kissing you as long as Harris will allow before the kid becomes impatient.

“Mommy?” The title rolls off of his tongue so easily, bringing with it fresh batches of tears for both you and Eddie. Mommy. You’re Harris’s mommy. The close bond you’ve already developed strengthens in that moment, and you vow to wear your badge of Chosen Mom with pride.

“Yeah, Har?”

“Can we celebrate with ice cream?”

“It’s, like, 9:30 in the morning,” Eddie laughs, scrunching his nose. “I don’t even think Scoops Ahoy is open yet.”

Harris pouts but ultimately relents, on one condition. “Then…can we go when it opens?”

You look at Eddie, who delivers his seal of approval with a quick nod. “I think that can be arranged.”

As Harris cheers, you sneak a glimpse of the new jewelry adorning your finger. It daintily sparkles even under the kitchen lighting, a perfect depiction of your love for one another.

Eddie’s hands snake around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “How’d I do?” he asks with a goofy, lopsided grin. “Is my future wife happy with her ring?”

You turn around, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his, desperate for a moment of intimacy. “I love it. And I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“And me?” pipes up a little voice.

“Both of you,” you amend with a giggle. Pleased with your answer, Harris returns to his crayons and construction paper.

Eddie’s voice is a melodic whisper in your ear. “After our family ice cream date, maybe you and I can celebrate a bit more privately?” You can practically hear his teasing smirk at the raunchy implication.

“We can pick up champagne on the way home,” you murmur back, heat blossoming in your belly. You’re no longer just a girlfriend, but a fiancée, a future wife, and there is nothing else you crave more than the touch of your future husband.

And while you and Eddie finish washing the dishes with a plethora of stolen kisses, Harris picks up a green crayon and titles his drawing, just like he’d learned in art class:

Mommy, Daddy, and Harris.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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healmyhrt · 3 months

Text

⌗ out of it, c. sturniolo

chris x fem!reader

summary: chris gets really drunk and begins to say things you and him both know he doesn’t mean.

disclaimers!: alcohol use, cursing, short

a/n: this is based in like the future like, chris has his own place n everything lols | also, we all know chris wouldn’t say these things guys, don’t take this to heart <3.

“chris?” i call through the front door. he had been ignoring my texts and calls for hours so i thought i should come and check up on him.

i unlock the door with my spare key. “chris, im coming in. okay?” i push the door open, and see a trail of beer cans to the kitchen.

following them, i meet a very drunk chris. he removes a bottle from his lips, and stares at me. “well, shit.”

i step closer to him, taking a look at the mess around me. alcohol everywhere, cigarettes burnt out on window sills.

chris looked terrible. his eyes were red and foggy, his hair was a mess, and his shirt had stains on it, probably from the alcohol.

“chris,” i start. he interrupts me, “come sit.” he guides me over to the couch, swiping beer cans off of it so i can sit. i sit on the clean couch arm instead. “are you okay?”

he tilts his head at me. “dont say that. im fine.” i purse my lips together, and finally sit next to him. he leans in to kiss me, and i pull away.

“what? so now im not good enough to kiss you?”

“its not that, chris.” i look around at the mess that’s surrounding us, then back at him. “what’s going on?”

chris takes another sip to stall away from the question. i stare at him, with worry in my eyes. “dont fucking look at me like that.” i can hear the anger in his voice. chris gets up, walking around.

i stand, not taking my eyes off of him. “chris, you aren’t okay right now.” i walk over to him. “let me get you the help you need, baby.”

i attempt to place my hand to his shoulder, and he dodges it. “dont fucking call me ‘baby’, matter of fact, you should go.” his words slurring.

“im not going anywhere.” i reply. chris stares at me, an angry expression across his face. “get the fuck out.”

my eyes start to water at his words. but i try to remember its just the alcohol talking. “no, chris—”

“LEAVE!” he shouts at me. chris stomps toward me, his breath reeking of alcohol. “i love you, chris.” i whisper out.

“yeah? well i fucking hate you.”

i stay silent, and gently bite my bottom lip as tears trickle down my cheeks. “you don’t mean that.” my voice cracking as the words leave my mouth.

“yes the fuck i do.” he enunciates each word as much as he can. chris gets in my face, our noses basically touching. he looks down at me, anger in his eyes.

“i hate you.”

i shake my head as tears begin streaming down my face. chris scoffs. “i mean it with everything in me. i hate you. i don’t need or want your help, and im better off without you. so, go. leave.”

i lick the tears up, and look at him again. “say you don’t mean it, and i’ll go if that’s what you really want.”

chris slams the bottle onto the ground, glass flying everywhere. i hold my head in my hands, and start. crying uncontrollably.

i guess this reality checked him, because his face immediately turned soft. “baby?” i look up, my eyes now red from crying.

i fall into his arms, and his squeezes me tight. he moves us slowly over to the couch, and lets me cry into his shirt, (that smelled like alcohol).

“i am so so unbelievably sorry, baby.” his eyes begin to water. i sigh, and hug him again. “say you didn’t mean it.” i whisper into his shirt.

“i would never mean anything i said. i do not hate you. and i am 100% not better off without you.” he frowns.

i kiss him, and cry into his lips. chris tucks my head back under his chin, and cradles my head. letting me sob into his shirt, he begins to do the same.

“i was so out of it.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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soursturniolo · 6 months

Text

Scare • Matt Sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader

summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare.

tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.

tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy

It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.

9 days late. And I’m never late.

I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.

I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?

I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.

Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.

Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.

My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.

I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.

“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.

“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.

“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”

“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.

“No! God no,” I immediately answer.

Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.

“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.

I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.

“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.

“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.

I take a deep breath.

“I’m late.” I state.

If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.

“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.

“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.

Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.

“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.

“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.

I stop pacing and just look at him.

“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.

“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.

“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.

“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.

“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.

We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.

“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.

“9 days,” I whisper.

“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.

“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.

I turn to him, knowing too.

“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.

“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.

“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.

“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.

“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.

“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.

“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.

“Okay, what?” Matt asks.

Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.

“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.

I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.

“No, that’s it,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.

“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.

Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.

We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.

I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.

“Let’s head to my room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.

“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.

He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.

“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I swear,” he tells me.

I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.

I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.

“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Yeah, baby,” he says.

I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.

I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.

Negative.

“It’s negative!” I say, laughing. He smiles too, standing and pulling me into a tight hug. We both rock back and forth as we hug, feeling relief. We pull back from the hug and Matt kisses me softly. We both smile into the kiss.

After we part, we walk hand in hand out to the living room where Chris and Nick both sit. They both give us smiles when we walk in.

“So, are we going to be uncles?!” Chris yells, practically bouncing on the couch in excitement.

Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head while I laugh.

“No, it’s negative. My periods just late, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” I tell them, almost feeling bad when Chris pouts a bit.

We spend the rest of the night laughing and watching movies together, Matt holding me snug in his arms. That night when we go to bed, Matt says something that surprises me.

“Is it bad that I was just a little disappointed?” He asks me softly.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, when you first called and asked for the test I was freaking out on the inside. But then I talked to Chris a bit and the whole drive home I thought about it. And then I thought about a little us, a mix of you and me. And as life changing as a kid right now would be, I got excited,” he says, voice soft and quiet.

I smile, leaning in to press my lips softly against Matt’s.

“We’ll have a little us someday, just not quite yet.” I tell him.

“You promise?” He asks.

“I swear.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

Note

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him.

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?”

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.”

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds.

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?”

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.”

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.”

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait.

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter.

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines.

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does.

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see.

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.”

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro.

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.”

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.”

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor.

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly.

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #ask iris!

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marvelmusing · 7 months

Text

Dark Depths

Pairing: Merfolk!Aleksander Morozova x Human!Reader

Summary: As the childhood friend of the mermaid Alina, you’re unimpressed when she trades her tail to the Darkling in exchange for legs, especially when she uses her newfound human-ness to chase after a prince. No one but the Darkling seems to see how you’re feeling.

Warnings: brief allusions to smut, brief mentions of death, human to mermaid transformation

My Masterlist

“You’re the Darkling.”

The figure swims towards you in earnest now he knows he’s been spotted, propping his elbows on the edge of the rock you’ve perched yourself on. He lifts a dark brow, surprise colouring his features in response to you.

“Alina told me about you - before you stole her voice.”

The accusation in your tone is poorly disguised. His deep black eyes see right through you.

“She gave it to me willingly.”

“But you still didn’t have to take it,” you protest quietly with a childlike pout, your arms crossed over your knees as you press them to your chest.

“You’re angry with me.”

Staring down at the rock you’ve seated yourself on, you unfold your arms and begin to trace your fingertips over the rough surface.

“Not just you.”

“Alina?” he guesses.

You nod.

The mermaid you had befriended as a child had fallen in love with the prince of your small seaside kingdom. Striking a deal with the Darkling had given her the legs to walk to her prince, in exchange for her voice. The power of Alina’s song can manipulate sunlight; it seems an uneven trade in your opinion.

“I don’t really see the appeal.”

“Of the prince?”

“Of being human.”

In the midst of autumn, the sea isn’t cold enough for him to be wearing the thick coat that all Grisha are born with. Briefly, you wonder where he keeps his coat and whether it is as black as his tail.

Lifting your eyes, you meet his gaze steadily. The longing in your heart must be visible to him, as he moves closer. He pushes himself upwards, firm muscle tensing as he holds his upper body above the water line. Beneath the frothy waves, you can see his shadowy tail swishing rapidly to keep him upright.

The urge to retreat prickles over your skin. Alina had told you stories of the Darkling’s power over the shadows. There are rumours that he dabbles in dark magic which you suspect have some truth to them - after all, how else would have given Alina legs? The Darkling is also figure of folklore for the people on the shore - a scary story to keep young children from wading too far into the sea.

He holds a hand out towards you.

“Come with me.”

“I can’t swim.”

He tilts his head, a small frown creasing at his brows.

“I thought most humans learn how to swim when they are children.”

You duck your head bashfully.

“They do. We do. They tried to teach me, when I was young. I wasn’t very good at it, so they gave up on me.”

“I’ll teach you.”

He tugs lightly on your thighs, hooking his hands beneath the crook of your knees to encourage you. Fear sinks in your stomach, though you can’t deny how much you want to follow him into the sea.

“You’re trying to drown me, Darkling.”

He shakes his head adamantly.

“I’ll teach you,” he repeats.

“I can’t.” The words come out as a whine, distress at the edge of your voice, pleading with him to stop offering you something you aren’t strong enough to deny for much longer.

He reaches into the pouch at his belt, pulling out a necklace of some sort.

“Would this help?” he asks, holding it out between you both. You frown.

“What is it?”

“Alina’s power. There’s enough in this gem to give you a tail.”

His words have you halting in place.

Everything you’ve ever wanted is hanging from his fingertips, swinging gently in the sea breeze. The buttery yellow crystal glimmers in the sunlight, power swirling in its depths. He lifts the necklace up over your head, placing it around your neck. Tracing your fingers over the chain, you stare down at the small jewel.

“I can’t take this from her.”

“She’s with her prince.”

“A prince who doesn’t love her.”

He shrugs casually.

“Human love shifts like the tides.” When he sees the frown on your face, he elaborates in a gentle tone, “Humans are fickle. Alina is a pretty girl and they can grow to tolerate one another.”

“Tolerate one another,” you remark dejectedly. “It isn’t exactly the True Love she’s been hoping for.”

“Sometimes we don’t get what we hope for.”

What do you hope for, Darkling? The question is on the tip of your tongue as you watch him eyeing the coastline with a guarded expression. His gaze returns to you, the moment he sees you shiver as the cold breeze bites at your skin.

“We would have to get you a coat as well.”

Warmth flushes over your cheeks at the doting intimacy in his eyes. Then the sound of a dog barking breaks you apart. Both of you turn towards the noise and you tense when you see Alina walking arm in arm with her prince. Of course she would bring him here, to the little cove that has been your private safe haven for years.

The weight of the Darkling’s eyes on your face feels like a delicate caress, one that has embarrassment burning down your neck.

“When you change your mind,” he says softly. “Stand in the shallows with the crystal in your hand. Call my name and I will come for you.”

“I don’t know your name, Darkling.”

He leans forward, pressing a tender kiss against your cheek. The soft brush of his lips is warm, an unfamiliar tingle prickling over your chilled skin as he murmurs,

“It’s Aleksander.”

Then he disappears beneath the waves.

»»---------------------►

Whenever you visit the cove, the Darkling seems to find you. Ever since your first meeting, he has remained in your thoughts, and you’ve considered his offer much more than you know you should. The crystal hanging around your neck feels heavier by the day.

He lingers in the shallows and you wade through the ice cold water, shivering as goosebumps spread over your skin. The water splashes around your legs as you walk beside him, mildly vexed by his constant presence and the place he’s carving for himself in your life.

“I didn’t say your name.”

“Not with your lips,” he concedes calmly.

The flimsy waterproof jacket you’re wearing does little to keep you warm or dry. It certainly can’t compare to his coat - a magnificent heap of black fur shielding his shoulders, lining the cloth hood that he had pushed from his head the moment he had seen you. The dark fabric of his cloak clings to his body, soaked by the seawater.

“Grisha are born with their coats,” you state.

He nods. The fur is a part of him, the cloak added by Grisha whose song has the ability to manipulate cloth.

“How… how would I get one?”

His gaze is firm as he studies you, dark eyes flickering pensively between your own.

“Since you were born on land, you would have to kill another creature of land.”

“Kill?”

He nods again, slowly.

“Some Grisha replace their coats, with the hide or fur of an animal they’ve slain, to amplify their power.”

Subconsciously, your eyes land on his coat.

“Have you ever done that?”

He stiffens.

“No.”

Fearful that you had offended him, you look down at the water that sways against your waist. The chill of it soaks through your clothes and another cold breeze soon has your teeth chattering.

“Are you cold?” he asks. You shake your head. He laughs, a harsh sound that jostles the fur at his shoulders. “Come here.”

“Further into the water?”

Incredulously, you raise a brow at him, though he seems to see the fear lingering in your eyes as you stare at the grey water between the two of you. Slowly, he moves towards you, as close to the shore as he physically can with his tail. He curls his fingers around your wrist and you’re surprised by the heat of him.

The warmth of his hand weakens some of your resolve, allowing him to guide you gently into his arms. A small groan of unexpected pleasure escapes from the back of your throat, as your cheek presses against his bare chest.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, barely aware that you had spoken aloud. He breathes out a soft chuckle as he slowly pets your hair, smoothing back the windswept locks.

“Grisha have thicker skin than humans.”

Even as you loop your arms around his waist, your body continues shaking with the cold that has nestled inside you, as the water laps over the middle of your chest.

“I don’t think I’d survive the winter.”

His grip tightens on you.

“You would.”

He nuzzles his nose against your hairline, lips brushing over your forehead.

“Some Grisha hibernate.” He must feel your frown against his skin, as he soon elaborates, “They fill their cave with soft corals and sea plants, find a good mate to keep them warm, and then they go to bed for the majority of the winter season.”

Ignoring the word mate, you remark quietly,

“I don’t think I could sleep for that long.”

He chuckles again.

“There are herbs for Grisha who struggle sleeping during hibernation.” He presses the barest hint of a kiss to your hairline. “To keep you drowsy and sated.” He nudges his nose against your temple, lowering his lips to graze the shell of your ear. “And I’ve found there are innumerable activities to partake in bed, should sleep evade you.”

Heat burns over your cheeks, thrumming down your body and you squirm in his arms, like a fish caught in a net, which seems to please him. He holds onto the nape of your neck, squeezing firmly in a subtle display of dominance and you melt under his touch.

His hand moves to cup your jaw, almost cradling your face as he looks down at you. The most dangerous creatures lurk in the darkest depths of the ocean and his eyes hold every ounce of that danger. A predator poised to strike. His fingers curl around your throat.

“Darkling,” you gasp. “Please.” His grip on your throat tightens and your body throbs with desire - an endless longing that aches inside you.

“Say my name,” he demands.

You crumble.

“Aleksander.”

He grins, victorious. The glow of the crystal hanging from your neck illuminates his features, dark eyes shinning with triumph as he leans forward to kiss you hungrily.

Surrendering to his kiss comes easily to you, each motion of his lips against yours carries you further from yourself - like an undercurrent sweeping you away. Magic tingles over your skin, hairs standing up as sensation rushes through your body.

“I intend for you to be mine,” he breathes out against your lips. “Wholly and completely.”

His teeth drag lightly over your lower lip, tugging gently on the supple flesh as his hands squeeze at your hips. Turning to face him, you look up into his eyes with vulnerability shining in your gaze.

“And you’d be mine?”

His eyes darken.

“No one but you would lay a finger on me.”

“I want that. I want you.”

He grasps the back of your neck tightly.

“Careful, little human. Those who make deals with me only gain what they want after losing what they need.”

“I need you, Aleksander, please. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Whether it’s the sound of his name from your lips, or your words themselves, you’re uncertain, but whatever resolve Aleksander had been maintaining is shattered and his mouth descends onto yours. He devours every sound that escapes from the back of your throat - every moan and whimper as you scramble to hold onto him.

He groans when your fingers thread through his hair, tugging instinctively on the dark strands before your hands stroke over the fur of his coat. A shudder runs through him, as he unzips your jacket. The material slips off your shoulders easily, floating away the moment Aleksander discards it. He steps further into the water, drawing you deeper into the sea.

The waves caress your collarbones, water soaking through your shirt and you whimper as fear settles in your stomach.

“Aleksander-”

He hushes you instantly.

“I promised you a tail, didn’t I?” He presses his lips against yours once again, lithe fingers unbuttoning your remaining clothing, his hands tugging at your trousers. “But you need to be bare for the transformation to begin.”

“I don’t have a coat yet.”

“The change isn’t permanent.” He pulls your shirt off and you whimper as the cold water covers your bare chest. “With practice, you will be able to change back into your human form on a whim.” He mouths a line of kisses over your exposed throat and you squirm as he rasps against your skin, “We’ll search for the stag together.”

Blinking in confusion, you attempt to focus on his words, thoroughly distracted by his touch and kisses, especially when he reaches under the water to remove your shoes - the final piece of clothing on your body.

“Stag?” you gasp. He hums with a small nod as he murmurs,

“For your coat.”

His explanation doesn’t alleviate the frown on your face.

“Together?”

He grins mischievously, a wicked glimmer in his eyes.

“You thought I was bound to the sea?” Wide eyed, you nod slowly. He laughs, hooking a finger under your chin. His thumb smooths along your jawline. “Oh little human, have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

“Will it hurt?” you ask meekly. An unfamiliar intensity burns in his eyes.

“Yes. But it will be bearable.” He kisses you softly. “As long as you relax and allow your body to change, it will do so naturally. Don’t fight it.”

There’s a fierce ache in your legs, deep in your bones and pinching at every inch of muscle. A cry catches in your throat and you cling onto him. He kisses your shoulder reassuringly as he moves backwards, deeper into the sea. Panic spears through your stomach and your heart beats wildly against your rib cage as your feet leave the safety of the sandy seabed. Instantly, you flail in the water.

“Keep your legs closed,” he instructs you.

“But-”

He keeps one arm around your waist, holding you upright against his chest, whilst the other cups the back of your head. There’s a pressure under your skin, as if something is simmering beneath the surface, waiting to break free. It weighs you down, threatening to drag you under the waves.

“Don’t try to swim. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

His thumb grazes over your collarbone.

“Just relax. I’ll keep you afloat for as long as you need.”

The ache is in your chest now, the skin over your ribs splitting open as gills crack into existence over each of your sides. There’s blood in the water, curling around your bodies as colourful splotches dance over your vision. A breathless cough heaves at your shoulders, as the air in your lungs grows thinner by the second.

Aleksander murmurs reassurances against your ear, his hand petting the sensitive skin on your bare sides as you wheeze for breath. He kisses your cheek, his nose nuzzling there affectionately, though you can barely feel it as dizziness overtakes you. His words are muffled, but you feel them ring through your body.

“Are you ready for the rest of your life?”

Then he drags you beneath the surface of the water.

»»---------------------►

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