#but i’m not exactly sure of the timeline on that so idk

[roanniom]

more eddie phone sex more eddie phone sex i am screaming it from the rooftops

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY!, phone sex / masturbation, dirty talk, light alcohol consumption, light drug use (pot), tiny bit of distance related angst, these idiots are actually pretty sweet so a lil fluffy though it’s filthy? Idk

“So what are you wearing right now?”

“Eddie I’m on the phone in my parent’s kitchen. You can’t be a perv right now,” you chide him in a whisper, but he definitely still hears the smile in your voice.

You’ve been gone for less than 10 hours and yet Eddie is already going out of his mind missing you. Since you’d only been dating for a few months, the two of you agreed that him going home with you for the holidays might be moving a little too soon. You both, however, are bitterly regretting the decision.

“Not being a perv, baby. Just trying to picture you standing there all pretty, happy to talk to me,” Eddie replies. He intends for it to sound teasing, but it comes out just as genuine as he means it. It makes your throat get a little tight.

“Wish I was talking to you in person right now instead.” Your voice is small and his heart skips a bit.

“Me too.”

“This was stupid. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you to just come with me,” you huff, twirling the phone cord around your finger in distress.

“I mean we said it was too soon for the whole meet-the-parents thing,” Eddie reminds you, but his jaw is clenched as he holds back all the things he’d wished he’d said. Like how desperately he wanted to spend this special time of year with you, and how he would have loved the chance to win over the people who you care about most.

“Yeah but we were wrong. Who says there’s a timeline set in stone for this kind of thing anyway?”

“If you weren’t so far away, I’d hop in the van right now and let you know exactly where I want us to be on the timeline,” Eddie declares, feeling bold due to the distance and the fact that you can’t see his face. You laugh, which he’d hoped you would.

“If you weren’t so far away I’d let you.” It comes out shaky. You hadn’t said much but you’d said plenty, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out of nowhere. Eddie can hear it over the phone and he aches with the need to encircle you in his arms. To make any and all bad feelings melt away. He’s desperate to hear you laugh, so he tries his best.

“You can make it up to me by touching yourself and letting me hear some pretty sounds.”

“Eddie!” you say with a hushed squeal. Your eyes dart around to make sure you’re still alone in the kitchen, though nobody would be able to hear him even if they were near.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“It was worth a shot.”

You chew on your lip and contemplate, checking the clock on the wall above the sink.

“If…if you’re still up at midnight I can…maybe call you back from my room,” you saw slowly. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh honey, if it means the chance to hear your sweet voice, I won’t be the only thing up at midnight.”

~*~

You’re adorably prompt, calling him back at 12am exactly on the dot. Eddie knows because he had been staring at the clock for the last fifteen minutes, willing time to fold in on itself if it could bring him just a little closer to you.

Eddie wrenches the phone to his face, a massive smile on his lips.

“Hey Princess,” he says, nice and low. Your laughter on the other end is breathless.

“What if it hadn’t been me? What if it was Wayne calling to tell you something?”

“Wayne would survive being called Princess,” he says with a shrug you can’t see. You giggle and Eddie preens. “What has you in such a good mood in the witching hour baby?”

“It’s all you, Eds,” you confirm, keeping your voice soft because of the time. “But I did steal a bottle of wine from my cousins after I said good night and I might have had a few glasses quickly before calling you.”

“Ah, looking for a party, are you?” A thrill runs down Eddie’s spine and he sits up a little straighter in bed, reaching for a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. He’s seen you tipsy before and you’re both adorable and insatiable.

“Yeah. And I was a little nervous,” you add honestly. You’d never talked dirty over the phone before, and even though you’ve had sex with Eddie many times by now, you’re still a little self conscious. Worried you won’t say the right thing or be sexy enough for him.

“Nervous about what? That someone’ll hear? You’re in your room, right?”

“Yeah, the cord from the hall phone was long enough to reach inside here, thank god.”

“So there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be quiet, like a good girl, and nobody’ll know that you’ll be touching yourself for me.”

His words go straight between your legs, turning you on even more than the anticipation for this conversation had turned you on. He hears your sharp intake of breath and feels proud. Proud that without even touching you, even from so great a distance, he can still have a physical impact. Eddie strikes his lighter and inhales deeply, breathing his joint to life and taking a good long hit.

“I’m not nervous about people hearing I’m nervous that…” you trail off and Eddie feels apprehension for the first time all night.

“Nervous that what, baby?”

You huff in frustration, words not as easy in your tipsy state while also the excitement in your veins prompts you to get over yourself and stop wasting the time you have with him.

“You so much better at the dirty talk than I am…” you try to continue but he scoffs, cutting you off.

“If you dare say you’re nervous that what you say won’t be hot enough for me, I’ll scream.” Eddie drops the lighter back on his bedside table and scooches down to recline more comfortably now that he’s confident that your concern is silly. “Not to be creepy, but you could just breathe into the receiver while I jerk off and that would be enough to get me to cum my brains out.”

You let out a startled laugh at the absurdity of the statement and Eddie feels accomplished, taking another hit.

“You’re a fucking weirdo,” you respond affectionately.

“Yeah? But I’m your fucking weirdo,” Eddie counters, letting his hand smooth down to the front of his boxers. “And your fucking weirdo is hard as a rock right now, so is there anything you want to do about that?”

“Well…” you begin, getting comfortable in your bed despite the blood pounding in your ears, making it harder to hear the rustling of Eddie’s clothes over the phone. “If I was there…I’d probably tell you to get those boxers off and out of my way.”

“How did you know I still had my boxers on?” Eddie chuckles.

“Because I can hear you touching yourself through them. And because you always like doing things the hard way.”

“So, so hard Princess,” Eddie muses, pulling them off. “Ok, I’m naked for you. Boxers off as requested, ma’am. Now I repeat the question that I asked earlier - what are you wearing right now?”

“I’m wearing your Dio shirt. The one you left at my place last week,” you whisper sheepishly. Eddie swells with pride (and something close to possessiveness).

“You’re in my shirt and I can’t even see you? That’s cruel, baby,” he pretends to be cross. “Ok my Dio shirt and what else?”

“Nothing else,” you reply.

“So if I asked you to put your hand between those pretty little legs you’d be able to tell me how wet you are for me right now real easy?”

You do as he’d mentioned, bringing your hand down to gather your waiting slick.

“I’m really wet for you right now, Eds.”

“Good. Can you rest the phone on your shoulder or the pillow or something so both your hands are free?” he asks, doing the same thing himself as you move to follow his instructions. He holding his joint up in the air while getting a glob of lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, bringing it down to slide over the shaft of his cock. It adds a smooth glide to his motions that makes him swallow a moan.

“Something I should be doing with these two free hands, handsome?” you ask. You’re really pushing yourself here, trying to be confident in spite of the nerves. Eddie appreciate it and silently vows to make it so worth your while.

“Yeah. Take one and play with that little button I love so much. And the other one…tease your nipple with it through my shirt.”

You do as he says, rubbing circles into your clit, sending ripples of pleasure to your extremities. Your other hand presses and teases at your nipple through your shirt, making it harden from the friction of the material. You hum at the feeling and Eddie chuckles.

“Good, baby?”

“Really good. But not as good as it would have been with your hands.”

“No? Well why don’t you go and put two of those fingers inside you right now. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

You slide your middle and ring fingers inside your tight entrance, finding little resistance with how wet you are. Your other hand squeezed your breast more fully as you find a rhythm moving your fingers in and out of yourself.

“What about you? Are you…jerking off?” You ask shakily. You hadn’t been joking when you’d insisted he was better at dirty talk. Eddie usually talked all night long, leaving you with no obligations beyond feeling fucking incredible, moaning, and occasionally responding with a “yes! Yes!” or a “feels so good!” when prompted.

Eddie chuckles over the phone at your attempt, but the sound makes warmth spread through your body, rather than the embarrassment you’d assumed you’d feel. Apparently you’re too turned on to feel anything other than desire for him.

“Jerking off is a little crude. I’m not exactly a horny fifteen year old here, baby,” he admonished jokingly, abandoning his joint in the near by ashtray. You can hear the shick shick shick over the phone though and your stomach swoops. Of course he’s all lubed up. You know Eddie likes it wet. “I am, however, stroking my cock to the thought of your sweet pussy.”

“Oh god,” you whisper and Eddie laughs again. Your free hand abandons your tits and comes down to play with your clit as you add a third finger into your hole. Still not enough to recreate the stretch of Eddie’s fingers, let alone his cock, but still, better than nothing.

“Mmm what did you change? What’s got you moaning like that?” Eddie prompts. You feel heat spread through your body.

“I…I added another finger,” you admit and Eddie all but growls.

“That’s what I’m talking about. I know my baby likes to be stuffed full.”

“It’s not enough, Eds,” you whine then, and his heart wrenches. His instinct to give you something, more, everything hitches in his throat and he’s fucking his fist in earnest.

“Well then what will help? You got a toy there or anything that’ll feel…I don’t know, fucking more like me?” he laughs. You let out a frustrated laugh too.

“No, I don’t have a massive dildo just laying around at my parents house, Eddie.”

Eddie groans and squeezes himself even harder to stave off the urge to cum suddenly.

“Oh fuck, say more about how my dick is massive.”

“I didn’t say your dick is massive,” you say rolling your eyes, but thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself faster nonetheless. “I was talking about a dildo -,”

“I know what you meant, baby. No need to get coy with me now.” Eddie’s voice is hoarse. He’s trying his best not to cum, but something about your desperation, the sound of your voice (and if he’s being honest with himself, probably the weed), is bringing him all the way to the brink.

“Okay you’re right,” you say, finally letting go, circling your clit with abandon and bucking your hips to meet your hand, simulating what it feels like to meet Eddie’s thrusts. “Your dick is massive and perfect and I wish I was bouncing on it right now.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Ah, so you’ve been picturing yourself on top?”

“You’ve been picture yourself on top?” you counter.

“Well yeah,” he admits. “But I just needed a visual, baby. I can flip us over in my head,” he adds with humor.

“No tell me what you were thinking,” you ask, you voice suddenly quieter, strained. You’re so close, desperate to cum with him. The way he wants you.

Eddie rolls so that he’s no longer on his back, his knees now digging into the mattress. He braces himself with one hand by where your head would be if you were there, his other moving furiously up and down his cock, tugging in down strokes that would have him bucking right into your pussy.

“I’m thinking about what its like when you’re under me and I fuck you so hard, every part of you jiggles. And those tits. Fuck.”

Eddie loses himself for a moment, grunting through the feeling of fucking himself. Imagining you there with him.

“You always take me so well, Princess. You’d take me so well, huh?”

“Yeah. I’d…I’d be so good for you, Eddie,” you whimper.

“I know you would be, baby. You make it so easy to just sink right in and just…fuck. Just give you everything I’ve got.” He’s so fucking close now he can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting.

“I-I want it,” you whine, voice cracking.

“What do you want princess? Tell me,” he commands gently. His hips are thrusting down towards the mattress now and he’s right on the edge of combusting.

“You,” you say, your voice small. Almost silent as all of your energy and focus zeros in on the tension building in your core, ready to snap. “Fuck…want you. Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad Eddie.”

“Cum, baby. Come on and cum for me.” His tone is desperate, and the breathlessness is what has you tipping over the edge. The sound of your quiet moans, as your walls spasm and tighten around your own fingers, is what does him in. Eddie, free to be much louder alone in his trailer, cums with a deep groan that passes over the phone lines, through your ear and directly into your cunt, making your clit pulse anew beneath your frantically rubbing fingers.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he finally mutters, sounding hoarse and wrecked when he finally drops onto his back on the bed, letting his softening cock fall from his grasp, spent. He hears your weak giggle over the phone and smiles.

“Hope you get everything you want for Christmas this year, Eds,” you whisper, fondness swelling inside you and evident in your voice.

“Oh Princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle, throwing an arm over his eyes and breathing deeply to help himself settle in the come down of his high. He wishes almost bitterly that you were in his arms right now, cuddling in the afterglow, but that sound of your voice on the line and the promise of your impending return keep his heart light. “I’ve already got all I could ever ask for.”

~*~

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #issa’s writing day #stranger things smut #eddie munson discourse

[allur1ngs]

✮ see no evil, hear no evil ✮

TW: unedited, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom!reader, teasing, strap usage–r!receiving, reader tries to ride bada’s strap for a bit before bada takes control, bada is very cocky in this one…idk mafia bada is just always so cocky to me during sex, bada’s strap is referred to as a cock/dick, exhibitionism, bada doesn’t receive again, sorry…, erm… dumbification, hyo hears you and bada fucking two times, she will never rest…), italicized words with quotes around them in this fic indicate a thought, and in a long block of text indicate a flash back, the picture in the middle purely for aesthetics/a visual aid and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! this is entirely canon divergent and not a part of the mafia au timeline!!!!!!!!!!! if you want to read the canon version of this scenario, read this

SUMMARY: hyo will always be a dedicated bodyguard. she takes pride in the fact that she is able to stay by your side each day, and protect you. the only downside? she has to exercise immense amounts of self-restraint when she stands outside your bedroom or office door, and hears bada fucking you.

WC: 5.6k

A/N: an anon asked it so we did it!! a collab w my wife @bebeyue, make sure to read her continuation of this by clicking the three ellipsis at the end of this fic (this is a threat)!!!! this is the only time i’m cosigning on any form of hyo content–i make exceptions for aeri–so enjoy this one piece!! (ps. pls do not send any requests for hyo–i’m only writing for bada!!) but besides that, again, this is a “behind the scenes” of this drabble, but uses this fic as an opening, pls enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Kim Hyo is a diligent bodyguard, and no one can deny that fact. Although Bada may at times nitpick at things she does, she can’t dismiss Hyo’s commitment to her job as your bodyguard. Through thick and thin, she’s been there, watching over you. Early mornings and late nights, her presence is never far.

Take, for instance, the current situation unfolding between you, Bada, and Hyo.

"I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught." Bada’s voice comes from inside her office, and leaks into the hallway. Coincidently, you’d accidentally left the door open when you entered to hand your faincée her glasses. Now that accident left you in a rather compromising position.

Hyo stands outside Bada’s office, her back against the wall as your fiancée eats you out and toys with you. She’s not exactly sure what is specifically happening inside but from the sounds of moans, you’re enjoying what Bada is doing to you.

"I-I don't." You answer your fiancée’s prior statement, a hint of shame creeping into your voice.

"There you go again," Bada says, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth in displeasure. 

Hyo hears a shuffling sound and then another moan rings out from the office, this time the sound is significantly louder–she lets out a sharp breath and clutches her hands tightly together in front of her, struggling to keep up her professionalism. 

"Do you enjoy lying to me?" Bada continues.

Trying to distract herself, Hyo forces herself to think of something else. “What are we having for dinner tonight–” She begins a thought, but it’s interrupted by the sound of Bada’s stern voice speaking up again.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?"

“No.” You squeak, "Please--"

“The Boss is being very stern this time.” Hyo finally manages to collect herself enough to think a clear, coherent thought. “The last time this happened–” Her thought is interrupted by another that invades her mind. 

“Be honest, you like that type of stuff–” Tatter’s amused voice echoes in your bodyguard’s mind, her entire body going rigid.

“Fuck.” She mentally curses, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “It’s not like that–” Despite what fibs Hyo may try to convince herself of, the mind never lies. It is the truest and most honest representation of thought.

So it’s natural that Hyo thinks of the night prior to this most recent excursion between you and Bada, when you’d engaged in such activities.

The day had begun normally, much like today had, until certain events led your bodyguard to a cruel fate.

3 days earlier

Standing on the steps of the Lee mansion, you beckon over your wife. “Come here,” you say, voice brimming with excitement.

Bada, who’d just spoken to Hyo, and asked her to bring around her Porsche 918 Spyder, turns to look up at you standing on the second step of the stairs toward the open driveway. “Coming.” She says, dismissing Hyo as she ascends the steps in your direction. When she reaches the step you’re standing on, positions herself behind you and starts to trail kisses up and down your neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful? I love this dress…”

“You’ve only told me five times already.” You laugh while reaching into the pockets of your dress–a feature that you reverently appreciate–to pull out your phone. “But thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She mumbles into your skin, dragging her nose up and down while continuing to press heated, wet kisses on the crook of your neck.

“Bada, I want to take a picture.” You huff, trying to focus on opening the camera app on your phone.

“Take one then, I’m not stopping you.” She replies, never slowing down her sweet assault on your neck. 

“I can’t when you’re kissing me.” You argue back lightheartedly.

“Just angle the phone so I’m not in frame–”

Not convinced, you gently shy away from Bada’s lips. “I’ll let you give me kisses after I’ve taken the picture. Just two seconds, alright?”

“Fine.” Your fiancée pouts as she wraps her right arm under your boobs, unintentionally making them pop.

You barely notice as you lean back into her chest and hold up your phone, closing your eyes and smiling for the picture. But Bada does. She sees the way the skin of your tits shine in the low light, and how the picture looks incredibly intimate, like it’s something not meant to be seen by foreign eyes. She leans in, completely entranced by the photo, and your reflection–

The moment slips away like a gentle whisper in the breeze as you slowly open your eyes and your smile widens at the picture. You don’t comment on the nature of the photo, only saying, “It’s so cute, I have to post it on Instagram!” Which you quickly do, all the while Bada remains silent, moving her head back into the crook of your neck.

The kisses she’d given you prior, although passionate, are nothing compared to the heat with which she charges the kisses she places on your skin now. She uses just the tip of her tongue and drags it across your neck, which makes you freeze, and a puff of air leave your lips.

“Maybe we should stay in.” She whispers between kisses.

“Bada, you made reservations.” You mumble, bringing your hand up to the side of her head, clutching onto strands of her long, black and white striped hair. At the same time, Hyo pulls up in the Porsche. She parks it right in front of you both, then turns to face you, but when she catches sight of the intimate moment you two are sharing, she instantly faces forward and clears her throat. She tries to make it seem like she’s not listening to what either of you are saying, but your close proximity makes it almost impossible. 

“Fuck the reservations,” Bada says into your skin, winding her other arm around your midsection–again making your tits pop out. “It’s been a while since we had sex.”

“Bada, Hyo is here with the car.” You whisper, using weak force to pull on Bada’s hair in an attempt to pull her off of your neck.

You succeed, but your fiancée is displeased. “So?”

“So,” you give Bada an astonished glance, “she can hear and see us–”

“She’s not even looking our way.” Bada points at Hyo, who’s scrolling through her photo albums, trying to busy herself. “She’s on her phone–” Your fiancée suddenly frowns, pressing you closer to her chest. “Hyo, why are you looking at your phone?”

Your bodyguard instantly sits up and snaps her head in Bada’s direction, looking like she’s about to break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry Boss, I was just…uh–”

“Oh stop picking on her.” You gently swat at your fiancée’s arm and break away from her hold, quickly grabbing her hand and practically dragging her forward. “Let’s just go and eat dinner like we’d planned–”

Although you’re not able to see, Bada sends Hyo a look that screams, “You ruined my plans,” as you force her into the car.

Hyo gulps, moving to face forward and placing her hands on the wheel of the car.

Yeah, she’s in for it.

The rest of the night surprisingly goes without a hitch after that. After leaving the Lee mansion, Hyo had proceeded to drive you two to the La Yeon, an upscale restaurant that serves traditional Korean cuisine, and only caters forty guests at a time. Bada had reserved a private room for you both to dine, so naturally Hyos stood outside as watch, only hearing small noises from your lively chatter.

But the real hell began on the car ride back to the Lee mansion. 

The three of you had been sitting in a peaceful silence when you suddenly spoke up, curiosity striking you, "Just how much did you have to pay for the private room we ate in?"

Bada nonchalantly shrugs, "Not much."

"Somehow, I doubt that," you banter. 

Bada shifts her gaze from staring straight ahead to glance at you. "Well, it wasn't much for me."

"Ah, that makes more sense," you nod, releasing a small laugh. "But you know, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants. I'd be happy to spend time with you, no matter where we do it."

Your fiancée shakes her head, "I don't take you out of obligation. I do so because I love you. I want you to experience establishments that are worthy of your presence."

Turning your attention to Bada, you gaze at her through the barely-lit car. Her eyes reflect deep sincerity, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Bada... I'm just a woman—"

"You're not just a woman," she interrupts, her eyes stern yet holding glints of love behind the firmness. "You are my woman. My fiancée. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't treat you?"

Bada's passionate gaze makes you turn away, your hand ghosting over your mouth as you grow bashful. "You can't just say things like that," you whisper, your voice meek and soft.

"Why? Does hearing how much I love you make you nervous?" Bada laughs, amused by your reaction.

"I just..." you trail off, struggling to find words to express your feelings. "I love you." Those three words are the only way to convey the warmth coursing through your body.

Bada smiles softly, grabbing your hand which you’d positioned in your lap. "I love you more."

You intertwine your fingers with hers, observing the way she affectionately runs her thumb over the gem on your engagement ring. "But you know," you suddenly add, prompting your wife to look up from your joined hands to meet your gaze. "you could have mentioned we were going to a Michelin-star restaurant. I felt a bit underdressed..." Your eyes shift down to the silky white dress you're wearing. While undeniably elegant, its somewhat scandalous design features thin straps supporting a teardrop-shaped neckline that accentuates your boobs, which gracefully twists into the bodice and tapers into the gown's lower hem.

"Underdressed?" Bada says incredulously. "You look absolutely beautiful–"

"All the other women were wearing name brands and elegant dresses–" you protest, but are cut off.

"What does it matter what they were wearing?" Bada furrows her eyebrows, genuinely confused by your words. “You could walk into this restaurant in your pajamas, and you’d still outshine every single one of those women.”

You let out a sharp breath, smiling shyly. “There you go again. I think you enjoy making me flustered.”

“If you’ve just barely realized that, I clearly have not been doing my job.” Bada laughs, gently squeezing your hand, which still remains in her grasp. “By the way, I thought I had thoroughly expressed how much I love the way you look, earlier.”

A fire lights in your stomach as you glance at her. “Well…”

“I really am not doing my job, am I?” Bada uses her unoccupied hand to gently touch the side of your face, and leans in. “I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you look in this dress.”

That last sentence sealed Hyo’s fate. She continued to drive as you let out small giggles, and Bada whispered things in your ear. What exactly she said, Hyo doesn’t want to imagine.

Upon arrival at the Lee mansion, you and Bada are a mess of scandalous whispers, and chuckles as you both ascend up the steps, your bodyguard lagging behind to park the car. But it seems you two are far too excited to keep your hands off each other, because when Hyo walks toward the Lee mansion steps after returning the Porsche to the garage, you’re both nowhere to be found. Your bodyguard rushes up the steps, mumbling curse words under her breath as she opens the door and races up the mansion’s winding staircase, heading toward the only place you must be, your shared bedroom. 

When she makes it there, she instantly walks to the right side of the door, her back up against the wall. She lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that Bada was too busy to tell her off for lagging behind. 

But then she hears it, a small sound, simple and tiny, innocent. 

“Bada!” You squeal, while a creaking sound barely reaches Hyo’s ears. It sounds like you’d been thrown onto the bed.

Inside the bedroom, Bada moves to hover above you, planting either of her arms beside your head. She smirks down at you, her eyes sweeping over every sliver of your skin that’s available to her prying eyes. She leans in to rub her nose against yours cutely, watching how you crinkle yours and smile out of instinct. “You’re fucking adorable.” Bada breathes, then places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper when she pulls away.

“I love you more.” She whispers back, moving her hand to grab at one of the straps of your dress. She thumbs at the silk until she slowly begins to move the strap down your shoulder, the movement so light a shiver runs up your spine as you watch her. When she fully slips down the strap of the dress, your bare tit is exposed to the cold air, which makes your nipple pebbling because of the sudden temperature difference. “No bra?” Bada presses her thumb against your nipple, starting to trace delicate, mithodical circles to the sensitive bud.

“The fabric is thicker than it looks–” You breathe, but the words die on your lips as your fiancée moves to drag the other strap of your dress down. Now both of your tits are exposed to Bada’s hungry eyes.

“I really love this dress.” She grabs either side of your boobs, pushing them together to oggle the way your flesh meets to make a tantilizing image. The soft skin of your tits glows in the light, and the way your nipples continue to pebble because of the cold has Bada captivated.

“I think you should take it off me.” You say coquettishly. 

Bada stares at you for a moment with an excused expression before she releases your tits and sits up. “Actually, I had different plans for you.” She steps away from the bed, making her way to the dresser beside it before opening the bottom drawer. You turn your head to the side to watch with a confused expression, but what she pulls out from the drawer makes you smile.

Bada takes out a bottle of lube and her long, black strap, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes to see you carefully studying her every move with excitement in your eyes. “Looking forward to it, are we?” She remarks.

“Should I not be?” You flip over onto your stomach, placing your head in the palm of your hand as Bada begins to take off her dress pants and shirt. Like always, she only has her boxers and her bra on while she puts on her strap.

“Do you need help?” You pipe up.

Bada looks up and smiles. “If you’re offering.”

You quickly get off the bed and kneel down in front of your fiancée, helping her manuver through the harness and secure it onto her pelvis. When you’ve finished, you don’t stand up, instead, you look at Bada as you lean forward to press a kiss on the head of her cock, running your tounge along the silicone.

Bada lets a small hiss at your actions, her hand coming down to gently rest on your head. “C’mon.” She pats your head, signalling you to get up.

You do so without a single protest falling from your lips, but you take the bottle of lube out of Bada’s hand, pop it open and slowly place a glob of the sticky substance into the palm of your hand. Before your finacée can say anything, you lean in and place a passionate, all-tongue kiss as you rub up and down in cock, twisting your wrist like you’re really trying to give her a hand job.

Bada groans into your lips, grabbing the sides of your face and deepening the kiss until you’re just swapping saliva messily, small strings of it clinging to each other’s lips, connecting you two together. “Sit on the bed.” She whispers inbetween your clash of mouths.

You pause, then take a step back from your fiancée, your lips parted as you let out staggering breaths. Backing up until you feel the edge of the bed gently collide with your legs you sit down like you were told to.

Bada is quick to follow after you, but to your surprise, she doesn’t push your back onto the bed; instead, she climbs on and reclines against the bedframe with her back cradled by pillows. Her position makes her cock stand tall on her pelvis, the large head slightly drooping downwards when she slaps her thighs. “Sit on it.” She tells you, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion but crawl towards her anyway, taking off your panties before placing your thighs on either side of her hips and sitting down just shy of her cock. “I thought you said you were going to show me how beautiful I look in this dress.” You lightheartidly banter. Truthfully, you don’t care who does the work, all you want is to have Bada’s dick inside you, tearing you apart. But, then again, if she was going to tease you, you might as well do it back once or twice.

“What, you can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” She laughs, stretching her arm out to place it on your right thigh.

“I can.” You huff, feeling embarrassment start to burn in the pit of your stomach. 

“I don’t know.” Bada imitates a thinking face. “You’re kind of a pillow princess if I’m being honest.”

“Wha–” You stutter, your mouth dropping open. “I’ve eaten you out before.”

“And who was still in charge then?” Bada argues, her amusement growing every passing second.

“Well–”

“Listen to me.” Your fiancée suddenly cuts you off, leaning forward so that her face is only inches away from yours–her cock slaps against her stomach, the action going unnoticed by her, but not by you. “Fuck yourself on my dick, and if you do well, I’ll take over and finish you off.” She takes her left hand and places it on your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. She takes note of how your skin feels unnaturally warm. “Does that sound good, baby?”

Your eyes, which had gone wide out of pure shock stare back at her like lustrous gems. You slowly begin to nod, forcing yourself to close your mouth and swallow. Bada nods with you, then moves to rest against the headboard again, her back hitting the pillows. 

Although the tone she’d taken on was domineering, she still holds one hands out for you to take, so she can help you up onto her cock, while the other bunches up your long dress so it’s not in the way. You, of course, take her hand and with her added strength, lift yourself up until the tip of her cock just barely slaps against your pussy lips. You let out a shaky breath at the small surge of stimulation, but focus on inching your hips downward. Slowly, the tip of Bada’s strap fills up your pussy, every inch making you breathe harder and your hips stutter. The slight confidence you’d felt just a moment before instantly fades away as you close your eyes and stop moving.

“It’s only the tip, I should be able to take more,” you think, but truthfully even just the tip of Bada’s long and thick strap would be hard for anyone to take.

“Don’t do it all at once.” Bada’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes and look at her. “It’s big. You’ll hurt yourself.” She says tenderly. “Just take it slow.”

You listen to your fiancée, carefully and meticulously sinking onto her cock, taking small breaks in between every inch until you’re finally able to sit in her lap, every inch of her monsterously big cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” You pant, leaning forward to catch your staggering breath and to give your pussy a time to adjust.

Bada watches you with a fond smile on her lips, she leans in to press a small kiss on your cheek–which just so happens to angle her cock further into you, making you gasp. “You took it all, I’m so proud of you.” She whispers sweetly, the soft side she only has for you peeking through her dominant demenour.

“I–” You say through heavy breaths. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright, just breathe.” Bada grabs hands grab at the sides of your face, trying to ground you. “In and out honey, in and out.”

You try to take in a deep breath but it catches in your throat. Still, with Bada’s guidance, you slowly begin to calm your breathing until it settles into small puffs.

“There.” She mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You nod, shaking your head. “Just…it’s been a while–”

“I know it has, which is why you need to take it slow baby.” Bada’s eyes flash with a small glint of worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not, just took a little longer to adjust.” You place your hand over Bada’s, now wearing a confident expression. “I can do it.”

Your fiancée gives you a hesitant look but slowly leans back, allowing you to take the reigns. You start off slow, moving up just an inch before sitting back down. Then the next time you go up you go a bit further, so on until you’re able to take out half of Bada’s strap before slamming back down on her lap.

You also start to pick up your pace, angling your hips forward so her cock drags against your walls deliciously. You let out small, breathy moans with each rise and fall of your hips, still trying to get more out of her strap. But it feels like you can’t. Every time you think you can take out more you feel your legs weaken and have to slam yourself down on her lap before you awkwardly fall.

All the while Bada watches you, carefully zeroing in on the base of her cock, which is only wet with a minimal amount of your slick. She catches every moment you struggle on top of her, trying so hard not laugh at how cute your frustrated face is. “Do you need help?” She asks after she notices you lose your rhythm and slam onto her lap with a small annoyed curse.

“No.” You say stubbornly. Trying to prove her wrong, you use all your strength to lift up from her cock and this time manage to get another inch out before you have to quickly go down again. This time the sensation is deeply pleasurable so you let out a louder moan, but in your attempt to savor the feeling you once again lose your rhythm.

“So, you still don’t want my help?” Bada tilts her head to the side, just barely able to stop herself from chuckling at the glare you give her. But this time, you don’t answer her, instead, you just pant on her lap, looking like a defiled angel in your silky white dress that’s clutched between Bada’s hand, the straps having fallen so far down your body that some of your stomach is revealed, the other covered by the tight bodice. “All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll keep my promise from before.”

Truthfully, beyond feeling bad for your current inability to pleasure yourself, Bada just really wants to fuck you. The dress you’re half wearing is still doing things to your fiancée, the contrast of the pure white against your skin, which is stained with sin and sweat makes her desire to slam her cock into you reach incalcuable heights.

Looking at your fiancée, you bite your bottom lip in thought. There are two ways you could go about this. You could keep trying to ride Bada and probably only give yourself half the pleasure she can, or you can say yes and let her fuck you like she said she would.

…The answer is obvious.

“Yes.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Without a single second to spare, Bada lets go of your dress and grabs ahold of your hips, flipping your positions with such quick speed that it leaves you dizzy and giggling. 

Bada runs her hands up and down your figure for a moment, leaning down to place a kiss on one of your tits before placing one on the other.

“Put one of the pillows between your head and the headboard.” She tells you, pointing at a lone pillow beside you.

Confusion flows through you but you do what she asks anyway, propping the pillow on it’s side so it cradles the top of your head.

Bada gives you a smile, then takes both of your hands into hers. She coils her long fingers between yours and stretches her arms out so that your arms are held above your head. “I’ll show you how good my cock can feel.” She whispers into your ear, the words just barely leaving her lips before she takes out the entirety of her strap out of you and slams it back in.

The sudden fast and strong movement makes the headboard slam against the wall, and your head slides up, wich would have painfully hit the metal if it weren’t for the pillow Bada told you to put behind your head.

Your fiancée’s deep and fast stroke makes you let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” Bada mumbles proudly. “Bet that felt so good after all that fooling around you did before.”

Outside of your shared bedroom, Hyo stands frozen in her spot, the sound of the slamming accoumpanied by your loud moan making her gulp. She hadn’t been able to hear a thing before this, which is why the sudden rancourous noise startled her, almost making her jump.

“It’s fine,” She tells herself. “They’re just…having fun, that’s all.”

But again, another loud slam followed soon after by your pleasure-filled cry leaks out of the bedroom, the sound echoing cruelly in Hyo’s ear.

“Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Inside the bedroom, you don’t have the capacity to worry about about the fact that anyone in a five foot radius would probably hear you moaning and screaming like a whore, because your fiancée is fucking you within an inch of your life.

Like you’re a ragdoll, Bada takes you by the hips and angels them so that one is up in the air and the other lays on the bed, her cock slamming in and out of you at an insane speed. She’s moving so fast that your slick–which had tripled from what you produced when you were fucking yourself–is squirting onto her boxers and creaming at the base of her cock. It looks like a ring of sweet whipped cream against her thick black strap.

“I need to get this room sound-proofed.” Bada manges to say between heavy breaths. “You’re screaming like a fucking pornstar, baby.”

You’re unable to say anything, the only thing falling from your lips is moan after moan, which is somehow not overshadowed by the thundering sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aw, have I fucked all the thoughts out of you?” Bada drives her cock into you in a deep stroke, hitting that sweet spot in you that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck!” You close your eyes, mind turning to mush as your fiancée quickly takes her strap out, the ridging on the silicone catching against your hot and gummy walls, giving you profound pleasure.

Another rush of slick follows the exit of Bada’s dick, strings of it clinging from your pussy to the black strap, connecting you both. It would be poetic if what you were engaging in wasn’t pure, unadulterated sin. Immoral is the way that your lover slams every inch of her cock into you, sweat and your essance falling onto the sheets, leaving a stain as a testament to your depraved doings.

Bada reaches over to take the silk of your dress into her hands again, flipping all of it upward so that she can properly see her dick splitting you apart, rubbing your walls and hitting the front of your clit perfectly.

“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, is there?”

Proving her absolutely correct, you don’t respond.

“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to think. You just have to lay there, looking pretty in this dress while I slam my cock into you.” The way Bada cooes into the hot air of your bedroom makes your eyes almost roll back into your head. She knows just what to say, and when to say it. “Keep moaning like that, it’s fucking hot.” She adds, her own cunt pulsing beneath the fabric of her boxers. The way she’s pounding her strap in and out of you so forcefully makes the base of it rub against her cunt harshly, the slight pain and pleasure mixing together to make the coil in her stomach slightly tighten.

Like the obedient slut you are for your fiancée, you let out one loud, scream of, “I’m close!”

That only serves to reinvigorate Bada, who quickly takes your leg which is up in the air and sets it on her shoulder, allowing her to push her entire pelvis into you with a fast and intense stroke, which again hits your g-spot.

That’s what finally makes the tight coil in your stomach burst, a long stream of cum gushing from your pussy as Bada continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Of course, you can’t help yourself. Every loud curse and moan that falls from your lips settles into the air of the bedroom before floating through the crack between the door and the wall, the sound reverberating in the hallway of the Lee mansion.

Hyo, who had been counting to one thousand in her mind with her eyes screwed shut and her head down, realeases a long breath. She shakily breathes in and out, applauding herself for her immense self-restraint.

“It’s over.” She thinks, the voice of her internal dialouge fostering a relieved tone. “That was a long one. Sounded like she was getting strapped–”

Hyo surprises herself with her last thought. She suddenly straightens her back, shaking her head a bit.

“Stop–stop thinking about it.” She mentally scolds herself. Her cheeks are red, but under the dim lighting it’s impossible to see, and the wide, ashamed look in her eyes is hidden by her sunglasses. “That’s your boss and her future wife in there, it’s not–it’s not right.”

It isn’t.

But her wandering thoughts would be the least of Hyo’s worries, because while she counted to one thousand moments prior, a certain blonde Bebe girl had spotted her standing outside your and Bada’s shared bedroom, all the while your loud moans and slamming sounds filled the air.

“If I’d have known she was there I would have told her to keep quiet about it.” Hyo grumbles. “Now all the girls think I’m into that type of stuff–”

“Ouch!” The sound of your hurt whine cuts Hyo’s thoughts off.

She freezes in her spot, but out of pure instinct, and briefly forgetting what was going on beyond the doorway to Bada’s office, she reaches for the holster of her gun, and swings around to look inside the office.

And what she sees changes everything…

#bada lee x reader #bada lee x reader smut #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

[literaryavenger]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Summary: You're part of the Strike team and join Captain America as he tries to live his new life in the 21st century. [Reader is NOT Hydra]

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Rumlow being a dick. Mentions of death. My poor attempts at being funny. Idk, everything else in the movie?

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Happy New Year! This the first chapter in a new series I'm starting! I'm not sure how long it's gonna be yet, but I know it's gonna be longer than Broken. These series is about an alternate universe where the reader exists and lives through the events that happen in the MCU. A lot of the details will be changed to insert the reader, a lot of the lines said by other characters will be changed to be the reader's and I've also made up a lot of things and scenes and added them, trying my best not to change the official timeline and the main events. I hope you enjoy this and all chapters to come!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You heard the boss, newbie, text Romanoff and tell her to pick up Rogers.” Rumlow taps his knuckles twice on the table for emphasis before getting up and exiting the conference room.

You make sure he doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes at the now old nickname before writing ‘New mission, need you at the jet in one hour. Asshole wants you to pick up the old man in spandex’ on your phone and sending the message to Natasha, then you get up and make your way out of the room.

“Armory.” you say as you enter the elevator. 

“Confirmed.” the elevator voice says as the doors start closing. 

You suit up for the mission just assigned by Pierce and go to the jet to start doing the checkups you know the rest of the idiots on the STRIKE team won’t even think about doing. 

After making sure everything’s ready and in order, you can do nothing more than wait for everybody else.

Natasha and Steve get there exactly an hour after your text. 

“Right on time.” you point out.

“It wasn’t a coincidence, YLN.” Natasha smirks, making you laugh.

“Cap.” you greet him with a smile that he returns. “Y/N.”

The rest of the team meets you a few minutes after. “Ready for take off.” Rumlow says to the pilot and the jet takes off.

Once you get close to the target Rumlow starts briefing Steve and Nat. “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asks.

“A billion and a half.” Rumlow answers.

“Why so steep?” Steve questions frowning.

“Because it’s Shield’s.” you answer promptly, ignoring the scowl on Rumlow’s face that disappears almost immediately.

“So it’s not off-course,” Steve says, understanding flashing in his eyes as he glares at Natasha “it’s trespassing.”

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” Natasha offers.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.”-Steve seems really annoyed now.

“Relax, it’s not that complicated.” Natasha simply says.

“How many pirates?” Steve’s attention is back on the screen.

“Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc.” Rumlow pulls up the photo of Batroc on the monitor and looks at you expectantly, making you roll your eyes.

Of course you’re the only one who actually looked through the files.

“Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. The guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.” you fill everybody in, although it was obvious most of the guys aren't listening. At least the Captain is.

“Hostages?” Steve questions you, but Rumlow cuts in.

“Mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” he shows his picture. You’ve seen Sitwell around headquarters, he seems pretty close with the STRIKE team. Not that you hang out much with them outside of mission, or at all for that matter. “They’re in the gallery.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” Steve asks more to himself, and he has a point. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat and Y/N, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pots, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

Yep, he’s definitely in Captain mode.

“Ay ay, Captain.” you salute with a smirk that mirrors Natasha’s while Steve gives you a fake annoyed look.

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow says but you’ve already started getting ready and stopped listening to him.

“Secure channel seven.” Steve says into his wrist communicator.

“Seven secure.” Natasha replies. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so… No, not really.” Steve answers, making both you and Natasha laugh while the pilot lets you know that the drop zone is coming up.

“You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she’d probably say yes.” you point out, exchanging a knowing glance with Natasha.

“That’s why I don’t ask.” he fires back

“Too shy or too scared?” Natasha pushes.

“Too busy!” He yells over the wind as the door opens and then he jumps. 

You and Natasha both roll your eyes and look at each other smiling, not needing to talk to understand the other.

You barely register Rumlow and Rollins commenting on Steve jumping without a parachute before grabbing one for yourself and jumping alongside Nat.

You and Natasha have known each other for a while now, all the way back since she was first brought in by Clint.

You trained with both of them, went on countless missions together (yes, including Budapest) and you would’ve been right by their side in New York if you hadn't been on an important undercover mission and had strict orders directly from Fury not to blow your cover.

After that you got assigned to the STRIKE team by Alexander Pierce, though you still have no idea why. But orders are orders so you’ve been working with the idiots ever since.

But you and Natasha are thankfully still pretty close and your down time is spent mostly with her, sometimes also visiting Clint and his family at his farm.

 Nat’s still annoyed at Clint about naming his only daughter after you, middle name but still, and not her. But to be fair, you have known Clint longer, a fact that always amuses both you and Clint to bring up.

You’ve just landed when you hear Rumlow saying “you seemed pretty helpless without me” to Steve.

“What about the nurse who lives across the hall from you?” Natasha says.

“Yeah, she seems nice.” you add.

“Secure the engines, then find me a date.” Steve says in his captain voice.

“We’re multitasking.” Nat tells him before turning to you. “you take port, I’ll take starboard and we’ll meet at the rendezvous point”

“Copy.” you say and make your way to the engine room on the right side of the ship. You start taking down guys and can hear Rumlow saying they’re ready in position.

Just as you finish with the last guy you hear Steve calling your name. “What’s your status?”

“Port engine room secure.” you answer.

“Good, make your way to help Rumlow with the hostages.”

“Roger that.” you can almost hear him groan in annoyance as you smile while following his orders.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” you can hear her grunt while she fights through the comms. “Status, Natasha?” 

“Hang on!” She says as she keeps fighting. “Starboard engine room secure.”

You hear Steve countdown from three and then the team moving in on the targets, you get to the rendezvous point just in time to see Rumlow rounding the corner with the hostages on his tail.

“Hostages en route to extradition.” he says in his comms as you look around for Natasha.

“Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.” you let Steve know while helping take care of the hostages.

“Natasha, Batroc’s on the move. Circle back to Y/N and protect the hostages.” he receives no answer and at this point you get a little worried. “Natasha!”

You want to go looking for her but you know better than to leave your post, and you’re also very aware that Natasha can take care of herself. 

So you keep protecting the hostages while listening intently to the comms where you can hear Steve fight, then you hear a voice you assume it’s Batroc’s talking French and are even more surprised to hear Steve answer back in French. Impressive.

You can hear him fighting again and then you finally hear Natasha’s voice but don’t pay too much attention to the conversation, bringing your entire focus on the hostages now that you know she’s okay. 

You’re helping people into the life-pods when you hear an explosion go off somewhere on the boat. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you hear Natasha’s voice again and let it go, feeling even more relieved after hearing Steve too.

The ride back is very uncomfortable as you help Natasha with the minor injuries from the explosion, Steve refusing help and insisting that he’s fine, and in the mood he’s in you’re certainly not about to argue. 

As soon as the jet lands he stomps away angrily and you share a concerned look with Natasha, worried about what he’s gonna do next. 

You help Nat to the medbay and leave her there when she assures you she’s okay and to not make a fuss over her.

So you make your way to the usual conference room for debriefing but when you get there Rumlow very smugly assures you that you’re not needed at this meeting. 

You’re used to being left out of meetings with the STRIKE team and Pierce by now, since you’ve been forced to join you’ve been left out of more meetings that you’ve attended, but it still bothers you sometimes.

Still, at least you don’t have to spend too much time with those neanderthals. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

So you just make your way to the Armory to put away your gear and then the locker room to change and go home for what you think is gonna be the rest of the day.

-

A few hours later you find yourself in the hospital where the STRIKE team has been called in the middle of the night because, guess what? Someone tried to kill Director Fury. Or, as it turns out, succeeded. 

You’re behind Steve, Natasha and Hill alongside Rumlow and Sitwell, watching Fury flatlining and the doctors calling it.

You want to go with Nat to see Fury, be there for her knowing she cared about him as much as you do, but obviously Rumlow has to be a dick and order you to stay put. And, whether you like it or not, he’s your boss.

He rudely interrupts Nat and Steve’s conversation telling him they need him back at headquarters and you can already tell something’s suddenly off.

As much as Rumlow can be an asshole, he’s never been openly rude towards Steve.

You can hear Sitwell in your earpiece telling the team to bring Rogers in for questioning as he and Rumlow get closer.

“STRIKE, move it out.” he orders but you don't start moving until Steve’s by your side, giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile. 

When you get to the Triskelion Steve is taken to Pierce’s office and you get ordered to go to Forensics and check into the evidence found on the roof, then go to Operations Control and wait for there for further instructions, so you do. 

When you get to the control room you see Sitwell concentrated on a particular screen so you get close trying not to get noticed and see Steve fighting STRIKE and SHIELD agents in the elevator. 

You barely have time to understand what’s happening before he’s throwing himself off the elevator and lands on his shield near the entrance of the building. Thankfully Sitwell’s “Are you kidding me?” covered your quiet “holy shit.”

You’re in the room when Sitwell gives the orders to track down Rogers to all the Agents and when he’s done, you discreetly follow him and the rest of the STRIKE team out the room.

For a bunch of guys who work for a top secret organization they sure suck at knowing when they’re being followed. 

No one talks until they get to a deserted corridor. “Pierce is going to kill us. Rogers has the flash drive and can use it to find Zola. You fucked up big time letting him go.” Sitwell sounds pissed.

“Take it easy, four eyes.” Rumlow sounds just as angry “You’re not the one that got punched by a supersoldier.”

They keep talking about the flash drive and Steve and Pierce and Zola. That name sounds familiar but you can’t remember for the life of you where you heard it from.

Then it hits you.

Zola was a former Hydra scientist from World War II, turned ally when the war ended. Thank god the Howling Commandos were hot so you actually paid attention during that particular history class. 

You're about to turn away so you won’t risk getting caught eavesdropping when you hear your name being mentioned.

“Someone should keep an eye on her.” Sitwell says, making you worried of becoming the next Shield target, but Rumlow proceeds to ease your worries.

“That’s a waste of manpower. The whole reason she’s even on our team was so we could keep a closer eye on Rogers, but she just spends all her time with Romanoff.” 

So that’s why Pierce assigned you to the STRIKE team.

Yeah, you’re closer to Steve than most people but it’s not like you’re best friends, you sometimes hang out outside of work but most of your interactions are mission related.

You decide you've heard enough to kind of put together what’s going on, but there’s not much you can do to help Steve yet, not knowing where he is. So you stick to following the STRIKE team, praying that your absence in the control room goes unnoticed. 

STRIKE gets a hit on Steve’s location and you follow them in your car to a mall but think better than to follow them in, waiting patiently outside. 

After a few minutes you see Steve and Natasha in their not so well thought out undercover outfits and, once again, the Captain surprises you by hot-wiring a car. 

You follow them, more discreetly this time, knowing Natasha and Steve would be better at realizing they’re being followed. 

You get to an old army camp in Wheaton, New Jersey and are about to follow them in and make yourself known to them, but before you can get out of your car you hear the plan the STRIKE team has through your comms.

The idiots never even thought about using a different channel. Of course Rumlow would underestimate you this much. 

So you decide to drive deeper into the trees surrounding the camp to make sure you’re not visible and wait, knowing Steve and Natasha will need a fast getaway. 

You can do nothing more than watch as a missile hits the bunker and the helicopters start coming. You want to go and help them, make sure they're okay, but you will yourself to stay put and not give away your position. 

When you can faintly see Steve’s figure, almost running with what looks like Nat in his arms, you finally turn the car on and drive coming to a stop right in front of him and startling him to a stop on his tracks.

“Get in.” you urge him, and he seems wary of you, rightly so. “Come on, Cap, they can’t know I’m here!”

He seems to decide to risk trusting you and delicately sets an unconscious Nat down in the back seat before getting in the passenger’s seat.

As soon as his door is closed you drive away as fast as you can, heading back to Washington and you can feel Steve’s eyes on you.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he finally says after a minute of silence, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re part of them, after all.”

“I can see where you’re coming from, but trust me I’m not one of them.” You glance at him and you can tell that he’s not convinced yet, so you go on. “I didn’t even know who ‘them’ were before today. Apparently the reason Pierce assigned me to the STRIKE team was in hopes to get closer to you. He overestimated how close we actually are. If Natasha was awake right now she would tell you how much I hate working with those assholes… You can trust me.”

You take a look at the rearview mirror and see Natasha, but her relaxed face does nothing to ease your worries. 

Steve seems to pick up on your concerns as his features soften and, ever the hopelessly optimistic, he chooses to believe you.

“Okay,” he says, “what do we do now?”

“We have to get you somewhere safe” you check your mirrors as much as you can, making sure you’re not being followed “I don’t know any safehouses outside of Shield's radar. We need a place we can go that they know nothing about.”

“I have an idea.” he says, you glance at him and see him already looking at you, so you nod.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu #nick fury #marvel #maria hill #captain america #captain america the winter soldier #captain america: the winter soldier #the winter soldier #shield #hydra #brock rumlow #alexander pierce

[bittenbyyou]

Inferior Flames (1)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments

description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies. 

a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.

“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.

“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”

“My names are better.”

“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.

“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”

“But he did turn you down.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”

You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.

“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.

“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”

“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”

“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”

“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.

“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”

“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”

You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”

“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”

“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.

“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”

“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”

“16 now actually,” you corrected.

“God, this is like deja-vu.”

You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”

“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.

“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”

“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”

You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”

“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”

“Dad…” you said sternly.

“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”

“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”

“He’s reckless.”

“You’re using me to make him jealous.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s genius, really.”

“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”

“No. Not yet.”

“You know he can’t beat me.”

Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”

“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”

“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”

“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”

You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.

However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.

It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.

“... Which school?”

“Spider-Man’s.”

“... Fine.”

“You do have a crush on him.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

The next day…

Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.

“Hey kid. What do you want?”

“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.

“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”

“You understand why I’m skeptical.”

“Um… yes, but—”

“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”

“I’m ready for more than that now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.

“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.

Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”

Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”

“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”

“Wait, her?”

“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”

“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”

“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”

“Casts?!”

“Suit up and let’s go.”

With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.

It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.

And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.

“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”

Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.

“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.

“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”

“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”

The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.

“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.

“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.

“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.

“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.

“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.

“Drones?!”

“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”

“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.

You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.

“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.

“She can fly?!”

Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.

“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.

“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.

“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.

“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”

Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”

You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.

Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”

“But—”

“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”

“I don’t need to go to school.”

“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.

You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”

“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”

“I feel bad.”

He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”

You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.

“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.

“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.

“Thanks. You did really well.”

“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.

“May I?”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.

“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.

“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Happy, take him home for me.”

“Got it. Come on, Peter.”

“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.

“Great job, kiddo.”

The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.

“Dude, dude, dude!”

“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.

“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”

Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”

“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”

Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?

“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.

Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.

“Huh? What girl?”

He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”

It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”

“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.

“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”

“But she goes to our school.”

Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”

You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.

“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”

“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.

“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.

“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.

“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”

You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.

“I go to school here now?”

“But why here?”

“Because… it’s a nice school?”

Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”

His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”

It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”

You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.

Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!

Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #peter parker mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker e2l #peter parker x oc #peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #stark!reader #tom holland peter parker #inferior flames #my writing

[chirpsythismorning]

The Duffer Brothers Didn’t Forget Will’s Birthday + the Hints Everyone Missed Hiding in Plain Sight:

I encourage you to also check out this post I did a while back. It goes into some other evidence that debunks this whole fiasco even further.

The most obvious hint that was hidden in season 4 itself, is the last scene from this clip, aka the Duffer Brothers acknowledgement of Dustin’s birthday, down to the month, day, and hour.

The timeline for 4x06, which is when the Cali gang arrives at Suzie’s, is March 25th, 1986.

Dustin’s birthday, is May 29th, 1971.

Which means that Suzie’s comment about Dustin’s birthday being: 2 months, 3 days and 5 hrs away was... spot on (we don’t know what time Dustin was born, and so that’s why it varies slightly off between days and hours here).

This means the Duffers went out of their way to look on their Character Birthday/Important Dates Calendar (which 100% exists, like be serious this is the Duffer Brothers for gods sake), and did the math to calculate exactly how long it would be until Dustin’s birthday according to the present timeline they were in, just so they could throw in this line.

And you expect me to believe they forgot Will's birthday????

Why else do you think they had Mike trail off into thought trying to remember, with Will right behind him, only for Suzie to interrupt, giving an exact countdown before Mike could give it much thought?

I’m also convinced Eden barging in at the last second was meant to ironically symbolize the Duffers themselves ‘barging in’ to stop the conversation from going any further, before Suzie caused Mike, or worse, the audience, to figure things out before the events of s5.

It’s important to note that Dustin’s birthday wasn’t even mentioned in the show ever. It was only mentioned in promotion over the years, separate from canon. Which is a serious contrast to Will, who is one of the only characters to have their birthday mentioned on the show, in canon!

So why, go through all this trouble of tracking down Dustin's birthday, a birthday that's never been mentioned in the show, if they're apparently not paying attention to that sort of thing?

What makes this even more interesting, is that if they are actually fully aware of their character’s birthdays, then they know Mike’s birthday is April 7th… which means if s5 picks up roughly where s4 left off (March 29th), then Mike’s birthday is just around the corner…

Idk... It's all just a little too perfect to be a coincidence.

BTW For anyone that's interested, I'm going to keep editing this to add more theories other fans have made that support this. So if you want to know all there is to know currently, make sure to circle back to this original post and they'll be here below:

A BIG one

reblog, reblog

Another one, another one, another one, another one

People who sort of predicted this already and deserve credit where credit is due: here, here, here

(If there are more that you think I should add, please let me know!)

Updated 9 Sept

#byler #stranger things #will byers #stranger things theory #stranger things 5 #stranger things meta #byler analysis #duffer brothers

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 4

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise

Summary: The group arrived at the CDC and were welcomed by Dr. Jenner, that asked just for blood samples so they could stay there. The group ate better than they have been eating in weeks and also drank a lot. Y/N and Daryl talk about the past while they share a bottle of whiskey and things get just a little bit out of control.

Warnings: swearing, little angsty, fluffy, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), a hot kiss 🥵, Minors do not interact. Nothing extremely sexual and detailed, but if disturbs you in any way it’s better not to read. Maybe some characters are ooc, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,877

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. ALSO, I’m very nervous about the path this chapter went so I’d be glad if you told me what you think.

As soon as the door opened everyone entered, but there was no one. Where were the person that opened the damn door? After some minutes a man appeared, gun on his hand and he just lowered when you proved you offered no danger. His condition to give you shelter, was to take blood samples of all of you to examine. A fair price for a scientist, how could you deny?

After you picked everything you needed from the cars, the man named Jenner, closed the metal doors and you followed him to get your blood samples taken. You were not over joyed to get your blood taken, because normally your veins were pretry dificult to be found and people would end up torturing you with a needle until they found your vein.

“You’ll probably find my vein here.” You said pointing to a place one inch from your elbow. Yeah, your vein was easy found in a very strange place. “My veins are difficult to find, that’s why I’m telling you.” ‘And because torture is not my kind of entertainment’, you thought.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only do it when I’m sure I found it.” He tried to make you calm. And he didn’t lied, he really waited till he found it and then he collected your blood without much trouble or pain.

He took everybody’s sample and then took you to the kitchen. A full supplied kitchen with good food, alcohol, water and all the appropriate devices to prepare anything.

“Glenn, did we die and I didn’t notice? Cause this looks a lot like heaven.” You commented with the young man.

“If we did, I didn’t notice it too.” He replied. God! You didn’t think you would miss so much having a kitchen with all the appliances you were used to.

You prepared the food together and the drinks were served. Everybody was so happy, having a good meal, drinking and chatting. There was a long time you didn’t feel such a light atmosphere. You all joked and smiled, maybe the alcohol was helping a little.

“Hmmm, never thought I’d taste such delicious wine again.” You commented next to your brother.

“Go easy on the alcohol sis.” Rick told you, as if he knew how to drink.

“Shut up Rick, you know I can handle alcohol better than you.” You said making him have a good laughter, in no way you were a better drinker than him. “Hey! Let a woman have her dreams.” Everyone joined Rick on his laughter, brightening the room with joy.

Very reluctantly Lori gave Carl permission to taste a little of wine, and he hated, so she was happy. Glenn was getting drunk for the first time and all of you were encouraging him, even Daryl, which was really funny to see him all lose and even smiling, genuinely and openly smiling. Alcohol was a dangerous thing, but it could also show you things you didn’t know about other people, good and bad. You sneaked some appetizers to Luna, which she gladly took.

When dinner was over Jenner showed you around, there was rooms where all of you could stay, and bathrooms with hot shower. Oh my God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you took a hot bath. You claimed one of the rooms and went directly to the bath.

You took your time in the bath, washed your hair, let the hot water fall against your back and relax your muscles. It was so good, it had been only two months and you already missed this little luxuries from the old world so bad. When you finished drying yourself, you brushed your hair and put some comfortable clothes, your sleeping shorts and a tank top. Then, you missed something important, where was Luna?

You left your room and passed looking on the rooms that had the door open. You saw Carol putting Sophia to sleep and you couldn’t help, but smile. They deserved happiness and you were glad they were safe here, as you were glad you family was here too.

“Carol, did you see Luna? I can’t find her.” You asked her from the door.

“No, I just came from the rec room with the kids and didn’t see her. Maybe she’s with Rick or Shane?” She suggested, you didn’t know. You didn’t want her messing around in an unknown place.

“Ok, thanks. Gonna continuing looking for her. Have a good night Sophia! And you too Carol, rest yourself.”

“Have a good night Y/N/N” they replied.

You continued looking in the rooms that you could see open, but she was nowhere. You saw the door of Daryl’s room half opened and decided to knock, maybe he saw her somewhere.

“Come in” you heard he say, and you were not expecting the scene. He all cleaned up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his back on the wall, sitting in the sofa and Luna all over him.

“Am I interrupting something?” You asked playfully, Luna looked at you and swinged her tail, but she didn’t move from where she was.

“Not my fault she likes me better.” He took the bottle to his mouth all cocky.

“Seriously, I’m already thinking about giving you her custody. It’s obvious she doesn’t love me anymore.” You dramatized sitting on the sofa right next to him.

As soon as you touched the couch, she came all your way with her cold nose, and she laid on both your laps. “I think she wants to say that she likes us both.” You stated.

“Want some?” He offered you the bottle of alcohol.

“Is this even a question? Just give me the bottle Dixon.” You take the bottle and take it to your lips, whiskey was not exactly your favorite drink, but having the alcohol in your system was too good. Just not having to worry about being sober and ready to fight at any moment.

You stayed a long time in silence, just passing the bottle around and sipping from the drink. Here it was, that comfortable silence that you used to share and right now you could do it without worrying much. You rested your head back on the wall and looked at his profile, he was handsome and also cute, you felt kind of lucky for being able to take a look at this pretty serious grumpy face everyday.

“What did ya do before all this?” He asked and sipped on the bottle.

“You mean before I became a professional Zombie killer?” You joked, a bitter taste in your mouth having to talk about your failed career. “I was a vet. What about you?”

He looked at Luna and nodded like it made a lot of sense since you had Luna, but in fact anyone could have an animal. “I’d go around with whatever shit Merle was up to. In few words, I was a nobody. I had nothing as cool as you had.”

“Don’t say this. You weren’t a nobody. In fact, when it all happened, I was unemployed. So if you were a nobody, I was just like you.” Your head still resting on the wall, your eyes still on his profile and you thought how could he think so low of himself.

“Ya weren’t nobody, princess.” He turned to look at you and you swear that your heart skipped a bit when you looked in his cute baby blue eyes. “Ya just didn’t have a job.”

“So didn’t you.” He didn’t understand why you’d try to cheer him up and tell him he was more than what he actually was. Since he could remember he knew everyone thought that the Dixon’s were no good. Nobody wanted to be around his brother or him, and it didn’t change at the quarry. And why should it change now? He’d always be what he was, but you seemed to look at him with a whole different look than anybody else and you never told he was no good or a piece of shit… you mostly had good things to tell him, even when he was a dick with you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, D.?” You looked at him and you almost could see all the gears working in his mind. You still looked in his eyes, both of your heads resting in the wall.

“Ya think I’m better than I am.” He also looked in your eyes and tried to see anything that showed you were fucking with him, but he didn’t. You were like Rick, you had honest eyes and couldn’t hide your emotions at all even if you tried. And at the moment you didn’t have any bad emotion in your face.

You wanted to say that he thought too low of himself, that he was better than he thought. You could see it, but it was not like you were good with words, and in the last 24 hours you got him upset more times than you would like, even if he was the asshole in one of them. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you couldn’t put yourself to look away from his face, and now your eyes wandered all over his face, from his handsome eyes, to his lips, the small freckles under his eyes and the cute mole above his lips… God! You really wanted to kiss him, and your intoxicated brain could not think straight, if you were sober you’d never have the courage you were feeling at this moment.

He was no different from you, not that he had never spent any time admiring your features, he had done it many times. Your beautiful eyes, your nose, your lips and even your jaw. God, if ever existed one, he had thought more than he would like to admit about running his mouth over your jaw, your lips… kiss, lick and even bite your neck. But before, you were never this close to him and he had never got this drunk with you or near you. He had not felt like this before, like if he didn’t touch someone or were close to someone… he wouldn’t be able to breath. He thought it was pathetic, well that was what Merle would say, because feelings was something only pussies did. The alcohol in his body talked stronger than Merle’s voice in his head, and all he could think was that your faces were a few inches from each other and that he could feel your warm whiskey breath and the smell of your clean hair, and when you crashed your lips against his, he wasn’t able to control anymore.

You pressed your lips against his and you didn’t expect he’d kiss you back, you expected him to push you away and tell you to fuck off. But once your lips were on his, he kissed you back. Your hand went to his face and caressed him, while his hand went to the back of your head pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but feel more invested into the kiss, your lips moving in sync, your tongue caressing his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but open his lips and let you deepen the kiss, take your way, do whatever you wanted to do… He was completely at your mercy and at this moment he wasn’t even ashamed of admiting it, at least for himself. It didn’t take much longer for you to part from the kiss, you needed to breath. You pulled apart slowly, forehead against forehead, heavy breaths and rosy moistured lips. You were so into the kiss that you didn’t even noticed that Luna had gone to the floor, your bodies were much too against each other and one of your legs were on top of his.

When the reality hit, of what had just happened, he pushed himself to the farthest side of the sofa from you. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done this.” He got up and were about to leave the room, but you were faster holding his hand.

“Daryl, you can’t leave your own room.” You said getting up and trying to look into his eyes as much as it was possible standing up, since your height difference. “If someone have to leave, it must be me.” He didn’t say anything, red cheeks and trying to piece everything that just happened together. “I iniciated it. The fault is on me. Did I kiss bad? Did you not like it?”

“No, it was good. It’s not…”He tried to find his words, but his thoughts overflowed his mind while his brain separated the things he could say and the things he couldn’t. “We’re friends, friends don’t do it.” He had never called you a friend out loud, but this was the perfect time to say it instead of saying how fucked he was and how he didn’t know how to do emotions, he didn’t believe in love or that he could be loved, and how you two getting involved like this would just fuck the whole group.

“Well… when friends get drunk shit happens sometimes. Never happened to me, but… there’s a first time for everything.” You over explained a little, because you were kind of nervous. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame yourself and don’t worry too much. There was a long time I didn’t had a good kiss and you were just too cute... I’m sorry.”

“I did it too, ya don’t need to be sorry.” He averted your gaze, shy, still concerned with everything going on his mind.

“This will not change things between us, right?” You asked and he didn’t answer, still avoiding your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had probably ruined one of the few good things you had in this shitty world. “Daryl, promise you’ll not avoid me and we’ll still be the same.”

“Ya won’t rest until I promise ya something today, aren’t ya? What is it with ya and promises?” Why were you always asking things from him? At the same time he wanted to tell you to fuck off, he wanted you to be close, at least close enough so he could keep an eye on you.

“I just don’t want things to get odd between us.” You raised your hand in between both of you, all fingers down and just your pinky up. He looked at your hand and could not believe that you were doing it. “Ok, now promise that we’ll still be friends.”

“What are ya? Five?” Who in your age made pinky promises? Why did you have to be so… vivid? “Fine. Let’s make the fucking pinky promise.”

He took your pinky in his and then you sealed it with your thumbs. “Happy?”

“Yes, now I can rest assured that we’re still friends.” You smiled and he rolled his eyes, but deep inside he felt a small warmth and oh, he was so afraid of this, because he had never felt anything like that before and he had no idea of what to do with it. “Have a good night Daryl, and thanks for the drink.”

“Luna, come on girl. Let’s go to sleep.” You called for the german shepherd, she got up from where she was laying, got a lick on Daryl’s hand and waited for him do caress her head, after it she followed behind you to your room.

You closed the door, put your back on it and slided to the floor. You could still feel his lips on yours, his hand at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and the heat of his body. How could you ever have a normal life after this? It could sound dramatic, but there was so long you weren’t this close to a man… Years actually, you didn’t even get on dates after Paul and he never did you feel this good as just kissing and touching Daryl made you feel. Fuck. Shane was right, you definitely had a crush on him, maybe more than this. And you Y/N Grimes didn’t do ‘more than this’, not anymore. You didn’t even do ‘less than this’.

You got up and decided it was time to go to bed and try to sleep. Luna laid by your side and you snuggled to her. “What should I do Luna?”

“Woof!” She said and gave a lick to your face.

“I already did it Luna, and I don’t know if it was the correct thing to do. I didn’t even know if he liked it.” Anyone would think you were crazy, but talking to Luna from time to time kept your sanity in place. “I’m not you, you know?”

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #Till THE DEAD do us part #deansapplepie #daryl x grimes!reader

[anna-scribbles]

can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?

ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.

i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy

all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.

i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?

adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.

how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?

and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?

i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.

as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.

it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now

ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.

thank you for asking!! mwah<3

#thirteen #anna rambles #asks #sorry for writing SO MUCH #in my defense i’m sleepy #and i just started rambling #adrien agreste…..kissing your forehead my love. tucking you into bed. agreeing with you about tamaharu #i don’t even know if this answered the question this is just truly my process #the process is that i think about adrien agreste and then write it down #ml

[forggywrites]

Hobie x reader who just got approved to take testosterone

Is this a self indulgent because I just got approved for testosterone? Yes. Do I care? No.

Requests are open!

CW: talk of testosterone, needles, acne, idk what else

When you tell him that you finally got an intake appointment at your local gender clinic he is so excited for you

Is with you helping you make appointments and talking on the phone for you if you need it

When the appointment actually comes he tags along (If you want)

As the doctor goes over all the effects, the timeline, etc he sits in the chair listening intently

Makes sure to note things that he might need for later

As soon as the doctor leaves you two alone after confirming your approval for testosterone he picks you up and hugs you

“I’m so happy for ya love”

Man will be just as happy as you are

“Let’s celebrate”

You two spend the rest of the day doing things you love

When taking your t for the first time he makes sure to learn exactly how to do it (in case you need help with the injections)

If you inject T he will do it for you

“Hold still love, just a pinch.”

Will give you a big kiss after every time he gives you a shot

If you’d rather do it he sits and gives you moral support

“You’re so strong love”

As you continue your testosterone journey he will help you every step of the way

Spotting? He has pads/tampons

Really sweaty? Deodorant and an extra shirt

Acne? He’s got all the products to help

He will totally encourage you to do a voice journal (this is my voice x days on t thing)

He loves his partner no matter what, and seeing you happy makes him happy

#across the spider verse #hobart brown #hobart brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x you #trans man #trans #transgender #ftm #trans ftm #ftm reader #trans masc #testosterone #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #queer #x reader #Spider-Man #self indulgent #forggywrites #forggy speaks #forggy

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Where There's a Will, Right?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY:      After Dante’s successful defeat of Argosax, he’s been ever-so-slightly more talkative than before; at least, that’s what you think. Both Trish and Lady noticed that Dante’s mood hasn’t improved and, if anything, he has only become more distant. Upon telling them that they’re wrong, they both tell you something that sends your mind reeling. 

MINORS DNI--Seriously, go away >:[

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

==

     “Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

     “What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

     “No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

     “That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

     Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

     “But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

     Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

     “Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

     Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

     “Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

     “I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

     Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief. 

     “You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

     “I do not!” 

     Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

     “How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

     The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

     Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

     "You're the only one allowed in his room."

     "And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

     “Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

     Once again, you choked on your drink.

     Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

     The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

     “Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

     Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays. 

     “Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

     He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

     Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

     “You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

     “Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

     A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

     “Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

     He said nothing and shut the door. 

     Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

     “Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

      You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

     “There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ” 

     Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!” 

     You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

     “Everything okay?”

     “Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated. 

     His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

     “You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

     “It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up. 

     As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

     Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers. 

     Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

     “So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

     “ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

     A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

     “What?”

     “It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

     The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat. 

     Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done. 

     At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

     “Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

     He shrugged, "Don’t care."

     You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company. 

===

     A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one. 

     A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a  snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched. 

     Another set of knocks. 

     You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it. 

     “Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

     “You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

     A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

     His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

     “What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

     After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

     You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race. 

     As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

     You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

     His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

     “Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

     The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

     “Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

     He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

     You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

     “We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

     “Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

     His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed. 

     Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

     “And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

     Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself. 

     You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on. 

     Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed. 

===

     Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night. 

     That’s when you showed up in his life. 

     You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut. 

     “We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes. 

     Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats. 

     Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you. 

     You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword. 

     He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

     Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

     One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

     The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

     Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave. 

     “Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

     With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop. 

     “So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms. 

     “I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

     “Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

     You froze.

     “You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture. 

     “I-- What?”

     Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?” 

     Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

     “Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

     As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

     “That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

     You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

     “There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

     “O-oh…”

     He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

     You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

     “Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

     “Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

     Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

     After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

     Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

     “You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

     “Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

     “Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

     Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

     “Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

     “Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

     You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

     “No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

     “Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

     “She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

     “Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

     “Really?”

     “Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

     You laughed.

     “What?”

     “I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

     The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

     You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

     “You coming?” 

     A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

     “I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

     Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage. 

     With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

     Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist. 

     Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter. 

     The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process. 

     A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement. 

     An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

     “No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

     With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

     When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there. 

     You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

     A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

     “Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

     Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

     It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

     You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

     “Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

     The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

     “Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

     “I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

     “Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?” 

     “I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

     You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

     Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

     A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

     The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

     Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

     In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

     You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building. 

     “Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

     “I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

     “Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

     “No,” he attempted to stand again.

     “Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

     His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

     “Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

     “I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

     “No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

     “No, I am fine.”

     “Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

     His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade. 

     “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

     “You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

     He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

     You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

     “Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him. 

     The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

     As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

     Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

     Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack. 

     There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

     “Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him. 

     “You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

     You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

     “Do you remember why I hired you?”

     “Because you said you needed company..?”

     His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

     “Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

     His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

     Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…” 

     His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

     “Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

     A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

     “What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

     He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt. 

     Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups. 

     However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

     “Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

     “Hm?”

     “Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

     “Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

     Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

     The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer. 

     “I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

     “Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

     “Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

     A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

     “Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes. 

     “I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

     You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

     “You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

     A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

     Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?” 

     “Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

     The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

     “Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

     Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

     “ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it. 

     Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

     With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

     His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them. 

     Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

     “We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

     Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. 

     A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

     “No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

     He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

     “I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

     The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

     Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

     You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop. 

     “Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

     “Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

     “What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

     Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

     “Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

     “Trish!”

     She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

     The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?” 

     He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so. 

     Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could. 

     Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride. 

     Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles. 

     Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

     He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

     You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

     “What?”

     He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

     You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

     “Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch. 

     “Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

     “Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

     Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!” 

     He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

     “You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

     “Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

     The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises. 

     He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop. 

     Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

     However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

     The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

     “I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

     “Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

     You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. 

     Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily. 

     The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.” 

     He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…” 

     Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

     “Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze. 

     All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

     Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

     “Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

     A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze. 

     The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

     You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

     He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

     “What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

     You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

     Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

     “I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

     He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

     You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante. 

     Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing. 

     “Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

     His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

     “Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

     “Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

     You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

     “Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

     “Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

     He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up. 

     Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen. 

     Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock. 

     You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum. 

     With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

     “Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

     He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

     You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

     The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

     After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all. 

     Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake. 

     You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”. 

     After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

     Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

     As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks. 

     Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you. 

     Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher. 

     Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long. 

     The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for. 

     You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

     Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly. 

     Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

     With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

     The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

     A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

     Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment. 

     He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do. 

     Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder. 

     When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

     He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

     Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

     After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

     He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

     You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

     He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you. 

     After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

     You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan. 

     He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole. 

     A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat. 

     Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

     Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster. 

     Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner. 

     “Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

     The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up. 

     Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him. 

     Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years. 

     “Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

     With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling. 

     Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

     Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time. 

     “More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

     Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

     Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises. 

     You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

     “What~Ah~!” 

     Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs. 

     In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs. 

     Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing. 

     Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

     “Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?” 

     Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself. 

     Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further. 

     This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest. 

     Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

     “Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do. 

     He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you. 

     The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his. 

     A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

     Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

     Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

     “Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

     A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

     He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

     Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

     You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

     The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all).  🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

#devil may cry 5 #dmc #devil may cry dante #dante #dante devil may cry #devil may cry #devil may cry 2 #devil may cry 1 #devil may cry 4 #trish devil may cry #lady devil may cry #morrison devil may cry #smut #angst #fluff #dante x reader #dante x male reader #x reader #reposted from my AO3 #male reader #Dante is sad #idk I hope y'all liked this #it's a little different then my normal stuff #also! #happy pride! #didn't realize that my first fic in June was gonna be hella gay but here we are lmaooo

[afriendlyblackhottie]

get chris into a room with jiggling butts and its GAME OVER💀

Request: Sorry but I was just wondering if you could do a C Evans or S Stan fan fic about a famous black reader because I haven’t seen you do one in a while . I don’t mind if you don’t I’m just asking. 😁

Need to Know

Summary: as soon as you laid eyes on chris you knew you needed to have him

Pairings: Chris Evans x famous!black!reader

Warnings: smut, minors dni, daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex

(A/N: idk wanted to put something out for Halloween. Obviously title credited to Doja Cat. Unedited (sorry). Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————-

Chris felt almost overwhelmed as he walked into the room. Not even knowing where to start.

This isn’t how he planned to spend his Halloween, but if anything it felt pretty appropriate. He wasn’t exactly sure what the theme for the video was, but he couldn’t wait to see after you got out of hair and makeup.

He was used to living life as a player but this was something else. When you invited him to be apart of your video shoot he’d looked up what to expect but damn. This was something else.

What had started out as a little joke on the timeline with you asking what his number, sign, and how he liked his eggs had turned into this.

While the two of you joked around on Twitter at first, things had quickly escalated to him actually giving you his number. Fans geeking out because how fucking unexpected. But apparently you’d watched Infinity War for the first time and had to know.

Leading you to post.

Daaaaamn what’s your name, what’s your sign, how do you like your eggs in the morning? Can I get that number booo daaaamn he fine

Obviously the internet practically exploded.

Especially when he responded.

Chris. Gemini. Scrambled.

Normally he didn’t do shit like that but fuuuuuuck he saw that ass. And those tits. How he wanted to put his lips on your brown skin and feel how soft you were.

And honestly the more he talked to you, the more he liked you. But meeting hadn’t been possible with your schedules. That’s why he was trying so hard to keep his eyes to himself.

Not that it was really that hard. You looked… you were the star for a reason. But shit he was still a man.

Maybe this was a test.

You had to know he was into you and clearly you were into him. Maybe you were making sure he could keep his hands to himself and… shiiiiit he didn’t even know they made asses like that.

“Cah-ris,” you said in a sing song voice as you came up to him. “What do you think?”

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from a girl walking by him. You giggled as you looked at him. Giving him a little twirl.

Chris couldn’t help it as he let out a laugh at your costume. Not that you didn’t look good, but he just surprised.

Your skin had been painted green, antennae’s coming out of either side of your temple. Still half naked but honestly he was kind of appreciating the whole alien aesthetic. You were even wearing a shirt that had the nasa logo with your name in it. Obviously that was some merch he’d need to cop.

“You look-,” he laughed more. “Beautiful. You look beautiful. I like your antennas.”

Not like he was lying. By now he’d done a pretty fair amount of ‘research’ on you. Had practically studied your Wikipedia as curiosity had killed the cat and he needed to know more. From there it went to watching a few videos and fuck you really liked to be half naked. And you looked cute as hell right now.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t done the same. Had gone on a googling spree when you saw him fine as hell in that movie.

Then you had the nerve to get along over text which lead to a phone call which lead to face time. Talking at all hours of the night. Staying up late despite the time differences.

Sure he knew he swore off dating celebrities, but he had a soft spot for you. It was the same for you too. Had promised yourself no more men like Chris. They never deserved what you had, but there was something telling you that he would be the exception.

“Thank you,” you said with a grin. “You need to get ready, though. You’ll be on soon.”

Your voice had come out like a purr. A natural sex appeal that just seemed almost unfair. He had a hard time finding someone to match his energy and shit you definitely gave him a run for his money.

If anything it scared him a little. That you could switch over so quickly. Going from hot as hell to his sweet girl mumbling into the phone because you wanted to wait up for him and say goodnight. It was quite the mix. Probably why he was so fucking obsessed.

The way you hugged him when you first saw him, letting him pretty much mold into you. Wanting to feel his whole body swell against yours. Had been dying for one of his hugs even though you’d never tell him that as you tried to keep up this persona for the day.

You’d caught him staring at that girl’s ass. He’d been so cute trying to be all sneaky. It was okay you didn’t mind. Besides you hired girls like her for a reason.

At least it had been fun for him to watch you do your thing as you filmed. Next time you’d have to come see him on set. Of course there wouldn’t be any half naked men around you that aren’t him, but he kind of appreciated that you didn’t seem to care in the reverse.

As he was almost done getting his own makeup on, you popped your head in. Still in your NASA shirt, but with your makeup a little more dramatic. Fuck you were hot.

“I don’t know if I told you, but thanks a lot for coming through. Definitely an upgrade from some male model,” you said, leaning against the vanity as the makeup artist finished with him.

“You know I’m always a phone call away, Babe.”

He was just so sexy when he said shit like that. Fuck he looked so hot. Was making you consider changing your thong because he looked so yummy he was making your pussy all drippy.

“Ya know I’ll hold you to that.”

He smirked. “I was hoping you would.” You were still in your heels and Chris noticed the way you were shuffling to get comfortable. “You wanna sit?” He asked.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to get up for me.”

That’s when he rolled his eyes because that’s not what he was asking as he reached up to tug on your hand. Obviously pulling you into his lap.

“Chris!” You squealed.

All he did was chuckle as he helped you get situated. Besides the two of you were alone for the first time ever. Of course he was gonna get your ass on his lap. “Comfortable?” Was all he asked.

“Mhm,” you replied. Fuck he smelled so good. And these tiny little shorts you were wearing. It really was not a good idea that he’d done this.

But you looked fucking hot perched on his lap. Even as an alien.

“How much time do we have?” He asked.

“A few minutes,” you replied.

“Yeah?” He asked. He didn’t mean for his eyes to drift down to your tits but that’s exactly where they went. Fuck they looked so good. Shit he needed to stop before he-

“Wait, are you?” You giggled. “Oh my god! Chris!” Then you gasped as you felt it through his pants. Oh shit. Damn. That was a thick ass-

“Shit. Sorry.” He blushed. Really didn’t mean to get like this. What were you a telekinetic.

“It’s okay,” you purred again as you trailed your fingers on his arm.

“Yeah?” He asked, licking his lips. “You don’t mind?”

You shook your head, looking up at him through your lashes. “No.” You let out another little gasp as he pushed it against you.

Fuck he liked that noise. “What about now?” He asked moving you over it. Fuuuuck he was thick you could tell. No wonder you were obsessed with him when you first saw him. Could tell he had good dick.

Once again you shook your head, biting your lip. If anything leaning into him a little more. “No. It feels good.”

Not like you hadn’t been fantasizing about him for weeks. The real thing just might beat the him you’d created in your head.

“You’re trying to get me into trouble, huh?” He asked into your ear.

You giggled again. “Maybe.”

“Fuck you’re cute,” he said ready to lean in and then end it. Didn’t seem fair that they’d be sharing their first kiss on screen when he had you like this already.

“Mr. Evans, you’re on in five,” someone said through the door before he the the chance.

He groaned. “Okay,” he replied.

You pouted before standing up. Dammit. “I should go get changed.”

Chris nodded before standing up with you. “I’ll go with you.”

“You’re just trying to see me naked.”

Fuck yeah he was.

————

When it was his time to go on and you made eyes at him from across the bar, he could feel himself getting hard again. Which was not what he wanted with the camera on him like this.

At least as you felt yourself getting wet in your thong, no one would be able to tell. He couldn’t stand there with his dick hard as hell. Only made worse when it was time for you to start shaking your ass against him.

“You know what the fuck you’re doing,” he whispered in your ear when it was time for him to hit on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back into his. As if what happened in his dressing room didn’t just happen.

Fuck it felt so good to have him this close to you. Tits pressed to his chest. You hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet as you grabbed his hand to lead him to the dance floor.

Grabbing his tie as he put his hands around your waist. Fuck you could feel him against your ass. He was thick.

Of course you’d went asking around about him. Hollywood was a small town and you didn’t want to waste your time. But it was kind of why you were so down bad because one of your friend’s friends had said that his dick was a ten out of ten and now that it was right there you really wanted to check for yourself.

Only made worse when the two of you had to finally kiss on the couch. He was used to having to do shit like this for roles but this was the first time he wished he’d gotten it out of the way first. Wish he could keep you straddling him without prying eyes.

Damn he couldn’t get you alone fast enough. You had to know what he was going to do to you when you were alone. Know you weren’t doing it on purpose but he could feel his breathing getting all labored and he could really do without having a panic attack with you on top of him.

“What are you doing after this?” He asked in your ear as the music played on.

“We were supposed to go to a party. Why?”

“Wanted to know if you wanted to hang out. Maybe watch some scary movies?”

“Um, not unless you plan on spending the whole night holding me,” you giggled.

That could definitely be arranged.

————

“Ready to go?” Chris asked. Poking his head into where you were getting changed. Back in his grey sweats and t-shirt. His NASA cap covering his hair.

“Yeah,” you replied, yawning as you stood up in your shirts to gather your bag. Kind of happy you weren’t going to that party anymore. Would much, much rather hang out with Chris.

He put his hand on the small of your back as he lead you to his rental car. Couldn’t wait to get you back to his hotel room.

His hand was on your knee the whole time as the two of you chatted. Glad that how easy it was to talk to you over text and the phone had translated well in real life. As bad as he wanted to rip your clothes off he was also pretty sure he could talk to you for hours.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

You giggled. “I don’t think you really want me to answer that.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I dunno know. Maybe I do.”

“Oh please. You know what I want.”

“I don’t know unless you tell me, Babe,” he replied, hand going up to finally make its way to your inner thigh.

Your mind just couldn’t help but wander to all of the things you’d been thinking about. Where the hell would you even start. You were definitely in the mood for a few things he could give you.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you said, opening your legs a little bit more.

Fuck you were trying to kill him. Chris was sure of that. He also didn’t wanna push his luck, but fuck you were right here giving him every sign that you wanted him to.

Surprisingly the two of you hadn’t explicitly crossed these lines over the phone. Had waited until you were face to face and yet it was like you’d been like this since forever.

He took the hint. Fingers getting really close to the edge of your shorts. Happy that you’d decided on something he’d be able to easily get passed.

“I dunno, Baby. If you really want something, you’ll have to tell me what it is. I don’t play games.”

Your pussy felt like it throbbed at that. Fuck he was so… ugh. You knew you wanted him worse than you can say.

“I want you to touch me,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He asked smoothing his thumb right over the center. Hips jutting out as you gasped. “Is that where you want me to touch you?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“That’s okay,” he said. Pulling up outside of the hotel so valet could park the car. You’d be fine. Could wait until you got inside.

You were all pouty and he took note to teach you some manners. Didn’t say please. Had the nerve to have an attitude as if you weren’t about to get what you want.

Chris grabbed your hand, had went through the back so nosy ass paparazzi wouldn’t have shit.

As he got you closer to his room, he leaned down to squeeze your ass. Making you squeak but you made no move like you wanted him to stop. Took it as a sign to grope you even harder.

Could barely hold on as he went to scan his keycard. Feeling yourself dripping all in your shorts. Not like he was any better off. Fuck you had him harder than he’d ever been.

As soon as the door closed, he picked you up. You wrapping your legs around his waist. Hands all in his hair as his settled on your ass.

Not wanting to waste anytime in pushing your lips together. Fisting his t-shirt in your hands as he finally kissed you. Fuck it was as good as you thought it would be. Knew he’d be a good kisser.

Didn’t even wanna make it to the bedroom as he sat down with you in his lap on the couch. Rocking your hips as soon as you could. Wanting to feel that fat dick.

“That’s so good,” you whined. 

“What feels good?” He asked in your ear. “Gotta talk to me, Baby.”

“Your dick. It’s so good.” You whined.

“You haven’t even had it,” he said.

That’s when you climbed off of him because fuck it you were gonna get a taste at least. Getting on your knees to see his length pushed against the fabric of his sweats. Looking all nice and thick. Fuck your mouth was watering just thinking about it.

“Can I taste it?” You asked him.

Chris groaned as he looked down at that pretty face. Eyes begging for him. “Yeah, Baby,” he replied, licking his lips as you finally went to pull his pants down.

You gasped as his dick popped out. Jaw dropping as it finally came into view. Shit. Fuck. It was- ugh. She was so right this- fuck he had a pretty dick.

Biting your lip, you gulped getting closer to it so you could put your fingertips against it. “You’re so big,” you whimpered.

“Think so?” He asked, hissing because fuck your touch felt good already. You nodded before leaning up so you could place a kiss on the underside. Why the hell were you teasing him so bad.

Just prepping him with kisses like you were assessing the situation. Honestly unsure if you could handle this. Sure you felt him through his pants but now that you were face to face with it, your mind wasn’t letting you make up your mind.

Fuck can’t believe you wasted your makeup artists time in having her touch you up after you took all the green off. What a waste. Eyes were watering as soon as you tried to take him down your throat.

“Ah fuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back as you finally did it. “There it- fuck you’re such a good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Fuck it really was everything you’d built up in your head. Just too much and yummy.

Had you so wet as you slurped him up. Putting his hand on the back of your throat as you tried to deep throat him. “Right there, Baby,” he groaned. “Doing so good.”

You pulled off if him so you could kiss his balls. Wanting to show them attention too. Getting them all nice and covered with slobber.

Chris couldn’t believe how pretty you looked. Even with your makeup running down your face. Grabbing either side of your cheeks so you’d have to lean up. Wanting to kiss you again.

Not stopping himself so he ended up pulling you up. Making you get back in his lap.

This time he didn’t waste any time in touching you. First grabbing at one of your tits. Pinching your nipple between his fingers making you moan into his mouth. Putting his hands under your shirt so he could take it off of you.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered. Chris laid you down so he could kiss up your stomach. Getting to your tits so he could suck on your nipples.

“Ah!” You cried. Fuck his mouth felt so good. “Ugh right there,” you moaned.

He needed you so bad especially as he went to pull your panties off. Needing to finally touch you.

“No panties?” He asked when he finally pulled your shorts from you. Met with the sight of the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen.

“I had to take it off. You got me too wet,” you whined.

“That’s okay, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take care of you so good. Gonna make you cum so much.”

“Please?” You preened.

And who was he to deny you.

You tasted so damn good when he finally got the chance. Everything he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks didn’t even fucking top it.

“Fuck you’re such a- ugh- you’re such a daddy,” you managed to finally get out as he bent your legs back further.

“That’s it, Baby. I’m Daddy. Don’t fucking forget that.” He pulled away to say. “C’mere,” he said, snatching you up so he could finally take you to bed. While he planned spending his entire visit fucking you across every inch of this room, he wanted the first time to be on the bed where he could really fuck you right.

Well he did go back to his feast first. Not ready to stop eating you out. Better than any candy he could have eaten tonight. Couldn’t get enough.

“D-daddy,” you whimpered. “Oh! Ugh! You’re gonna make me cum. Please.”

That only made him eager to keep going until you let out a yelp, sitting up a little to grab the back of his head.

You cried out. “I’m- ugh- I’m cumming. Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me!” You sobbed.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Everything had told him to grab a condom but he just couldn’t wait anymore. He was so glad he didn’t because even as he pushed the tip in he couldn’t believe how wet you were.

Chris leaned down to kiss you as his thick dick seared into you. Pulling away when he bottomed out as you threw your head back. Eyes rolling to the back of your head. Already scratching this itch inside of you.

You knew the dick was gonna be bomb. Just knew it when he grabbed that fucking scepter looking handsome as hell. All broad shouldered and sexy.

Fuck you were so tight. So wet. Took a minute when he was fully inside of you to just take in the feeling of you wrapped around him so snug. Pushing your legs back with his biceps wrapped around them so he could hit the perfect angle inside of you. The both of you letting out grunts as he went as deep as he could. Nudging against your cervix.

“You’re- ah!” You cried out.

“I know, Baby. I know,” he said getting in your ear again.

Chris got on his knees, yanking you closer so he could start thrusting in and out of you. Rolling his hips in such a way that would have been mesmerizing if you could keep your eyes open.

“Nuh uh,” he said. “You better look at me when I fuck you.” You let out another grunt digging your nails into his arm. “Or I’ll stop,” he threatened when you didn’t do as told.

“No,” you whined opening your eyes, but fuck it wasn’t easy he was just going so deep what did he want from you. “Fuck. Please. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Baby. I just gotta teach you good manners, huh?” He asked. “That’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“I know,” you whimpered. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna keep cumming on my dick, huh?”

You nodded brow furrowed as you could barely hang on. Sobbing when it hit you. That clench in your lower stomach snapping as your pussy tightened enough to push him out.

Chris chuckled, climbing on top of you so he could kiss you. Giving you a minute. What can he say, he felt a little cocky that he was getting you so good. “C’mere, Baby,” he cooed pulling you into his arms. Laying down with you. Kissing you. “Maybe we should take a break. Get something to eat. Watch a movie.”

You nodded, not able to respond and just letting out a hiccup. Chris chuckled kissing your nose this time.

“Look cute as hell when you’re cumming on my dick. It’s okay. We got time. I’m not done with you yet.”

————

Obviously this break didn’t last long. Chris hadn’t gotten off yet and there was something in his eyes that definitely told you he wanted you to ride him.

Especially as you climbed into his arms when any scary parts came on. Hiding in his arm when anything happened. Of course the two of you were going to end up making out. You climbing on top of him so you could finally ride that dick.

Chris held onto your hips, forcing you down onto him and holding you there so you had to feel him as deep as he could go. “Ah fuck, Babe,” Chris groaned, eyes squeezing shut.

“Nuh uh, look at me when I fuck you,” you mocked him.

Chris smacked your ass at that. “Little fucking smart ass.” Keeping his grip on it after.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out, making you yell as he sat up. Grabbing your hair so he could smash his lips into yours. Making you move just right.

You started kissing on his neck. Not able to help yourself. Wanting to get him off like he’d done for you.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

As if that’s not your goal.

“Fuck, Babe, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in you if you- shit, Baby.” You kind of loved how desperate he sounded. Only made you wanna work harder.

“Do it,” you breathed into his ear. “Cum in me, Daddy. I want you to.”

That’s when Chris slammed down down so he could fill you up. The feeling of him loading inside of you only made you do the same letting out little whines before smashing his lips into yours again.

After a few minutes, Chris laid down on his back, taking you with him. Dick softening inside of you. Neither of you making any moves to pull him out.

Oh yeah you couldn’t wait to spend all night finding out how nasty he could be. Honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend Halloween.

#fics by afbh #chris evans smut #chris evans x black women #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x famous reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans x black female reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

I don’t know where to start

plum, chapter nine 

a/n: you know, when my therapist told me that writing stories could be a good way to work on traumas, idk if fanfic is exactly what she envisioned...

warnings: Joel Miller x reader, MILD SPOILERS for the last of us (both games and the hbo series), slow burn, age gap (20 years), timeline wise this is set in between the first and second game (so when they live in Jackson), ptsd, heavy angst, hint to an ed, talk of DARK things (forced pregnancy, rape, drugging, essentially being held as a slave, death/murder, solitary confinement, suicidal thoughts)

word count: 1040

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist 

“What are you doing here?” you blinked, as the figure knocking at your door turned out to be none other than Joel. 

“Maria sent me.”

“Of course, she did…” you sighed as you swiftly stepped aside for him to enter the house that had only been yours for a few weeks now. 

“She was worried that you’re not eating,” he held up a small container of food for you to see, then set it down on your dining table directly to the right of the entryway.

Closing the door after him, you then leaned against the wall, “well, I’m not hungry.”

Glancing up at you, he exhaled, “right,” then moved towards the door again. 

Anxiously crossing your arms, you spoke up as he passed you, “hey Joel?”

“Yeah?” he stopped in his tracks, trying to catch your skittish eyes. 

“Can I-…” you tried, then promptly remembered how you’d yelled at him, and even though he always seemed to see right through it, always responded to it with that usual unwavering presence, you still couldn’t help but shrivel up and say, “no, forget it, it’s not important…”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s fine,” you stared down at the swirling woodgrain on the floors and waved a hand, “you go…”

Not moving his body an inch, he spoke, “Y/n,” making you meet his gaze. 

“I just-…” you breathed deeply, “Maria told me to talk to someone and she had this idea that it might be easier if it was with someone that I didn’t really know…”

“Okay,” he nodded gently, as if you were a baby bird he didn’t want to spook away.  

Feeling your heart nearly beat out of your chest, you struggled, “can I talk to you? Can I-… can I try? Try to tell you?”

“Sure,” he answered swiftly, not needing a single second to ponder it, “but are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable with Tommy or someone else?” 

“Tommy still sees me as that little girl I was back when I first met him, and I don’t wanna take that away from him. I don’t wanna ruin that any more than I already have. I don’t care if your view of me changes after you hear because you didn’t know me before. I don’t mind if you look at me as if I’m broken,” the pained exhaled that then flowed out past his lips was so faint that you almost missed it entirely, “also, the thought of telling any of them exactly what happened just makes it seem so much more real and I don’t think I could handle that…” just the thought caused fearful tears to trickle down your cheeks, “to be honest, I can barely handle it now… and you obviously don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I would never force you to do anything,” you squeezed your eyes shut and rambled anxiously, “and it’s not like I’ve been abundantly nice to you lately, or really since we met, but I swear it had nothing to do with you, I just-”

“Y/n,” he cut you off, breathing as if he was trying to do it for the both of you, “I know, it’s fine. I don’t mind you using me as a punching bag. Rather me than someone who could potentially misinterpret it, although, with the way everyone here walks on eggshells around you, I don’t think they’d take your swings personally. So, if you want me to listen, then I’ll listen.”

“Right…” you would surely break the skin if you kept on digging your nails into your palms as hard as you’d unconsciously been doing. Slowly moving towards the dining area, you both sat down at the table. For a long moment, you just sat there, quietly losing your mind while he patiently waited. “I don’t know how to do this,” you uttered into your palms as you hid behind them, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just whatever comes to you first, it doesn’t have to be in order, doesn’t have to be everything now, just start somewhere and then go from there. You can just pretend I’m not even here if that helps.”

“Okay…” you choked out a small sob, then timidly began, “they, um… they had this room down in the basement… there weren’t any windows, wasn’t any light, so you couldn’t really tell if it was day or night or if you were down there for 1 hour or 24. They, um, didn’t wanna grow bored of me, so that’s where they’d put me in order to keep me out of sight, keep me interesting for them. They always had me restrained in one way or another, kept weapons on me to get me to behave or even occasionally drugged me, although they saved that up for the most important people there… it wasn’t even the kind of drugs that made me forget, it just felt like they threw me right back in that dark hole again and I just couldn’t do anything. I could still feel every single thing, but I couldn’t even blink.” 

“I don’t really know when exactly it was, but I think it was during my first winter there that I-… it was inevitable for it to happen at some point… and they didn’t wanna try and perform an abortion, didn’t have the right equipment or the skills for it, so they just let nature run its course. And then when it happened they-…” your voice broke as you then uttered through your sobs, “you know, I didn’t even get to hold her…” silently hating yourself as you then actually admitted out loud, “and a part of me wished so hard for me to have just died during the delivery. For a while I let myself think that I’d finally found a way out. That I would finally be free. That my little girl would help me end it all… and for the longest time, I couldn’t let myself love her, because that’s not how it’s supposed to be. That’s not how you’re supposed to make a new life. It shouldn’t be a consequence of being a slave, of being raped and tortured. She was a consequence. She was a consequence, but I still grew to love her. I didn’t want her, but I still loved her. And they slaughtered her in front of me like a fucking stock animal.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #plum #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x ofc #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller series #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

[whyareyouhere66]

(Loki anon here I’m sorry I’m still in my fixation and I love ur writing 😭)

Loki x son reader were Loki wasn’t in reader’s life very often and reader slowly grows to hate him for it. But reader ends up going through the same path Loki did by terrorizing Earth/trying to rule it to show he can be better and stronger than his father. I can’t decide how it would end- like reader gets imprisoned after Loki tries to stop him or like, they talk and make up?? Idk😭

(Loving that the only plots I can come up with are full of daddy issues LMAO)

You’re so real for that bro-

never be sorry you’re amazing

I hate being late on requests, I don’t know if you’re still in the Loki fixation I’m really late but I hope you enjoy either way <3 

DNA - !Father! Loki x Male Reader

CW: Loki was kinda a shit dad, mentions of guns in beginning, timeline may not be 100% canon, lazy proof read, long

X

Chaos tumbles in the streets, shouts echoing  from the crowds. 

Ruckus in a small town, built into a crevice in the mountain, it’s far too easy to cause havoc on its streets.

People are rushing to see what has happened at the small museum just down the street to the various neighborhoods, though get pulled away when they see the people running the opposite way. Half aren’t even sure what they’re running from.

The front doors to the museums walls burst open suddenly, a tall figure strutting out of the frame. 

Y/n Odinson, in all his grace.

A few gasps come from the witnesses, eyes widening upon seeing the man. The before untouched museum now holds shattered windows, it looks broken. 

A few spikes of glass crunch under Y/n’s boots, a trail of shards gathered around the door. It takes another moment for people to see the pendant swinging from his clenched fist.

“Stop, now!” The first officer to arrive at the scene, holding a gun in front of him. Just a minute too late, he’s running to catch up. 

A second one appears behind him a moment later, but doesn’t chase, instead crouches behind the hood of his car and points his own gun towards Y/n’s clenched fist.

“We’ll shoot!” He shouts, hearing the sirens of backup following behind. Y/n doesn’t flinch. 

“That doesn’t sound too smart,” The man speaks nonchalantly, further frustrating the cops behind him, “but if you must, I suggest now.” There’s a sly grin on his face when he looks at them over his shoulder. 

So, they do.

A bang pierces the air, and suddenly a bullet is flying. Y/n knows it’s headed his way, but it’s too late anyways. For he was gone the second the trigger was pulled- puffed away with nothing but an imprint of dirt and blue fog left behind. 

People look around, confused.

He’s escaped, and he holds another piece with him. 

***

Y/n Odinson

10:37 pm 

In the dark room, I notice there’s few sources of light for me to work with. 

The window, the clock, and the lamp just to the right of me. 

Even as it becomes later and later into the night, I’m still sitting here, hunched over this damn desk with two of the same  things placed in front of me- one being the necklace stolen mere hours prior. 

Its jewels reflect in the light of the lamp, red and green jewels lining a silver chain. It shines the brightest compared to the dusty old book beside it.

I continue to stare at it, before a frustrated groan rumbles out of my already sore throat. 

“This isn’t going anywhere…” I mumble bitterly. 

I grab the book, pages squished between the leather cover. I run my thumb down the engraved cover, it’s patterns bumping under my finger. There’s a pad of dust on my thumb when I lift it again, a trail left behind on the leather. 

I’m so close- I feel it. Yet in the back of my mind it feels like I’m so, so far. 

The lights coming in from my window distract me for a moment, and I look at all the buildings I’ve looked at everyday. It’s all the same, like I’m exactly where I was yesterday, no more progress than the day before. 

Slowly, my gaze turns back to the desk.

After my father fumbled the Tesseract that first time, I felt even more determined to surpass him.

 To take on the world better than he could have ever imagined, make him feel as stupid as he looked.

I had thought that maybe going a more logical route would be more successful than his try, try, and try again strategy. 

And sometimes I think it’s working.

And then, there’s moments like this, when I’m hunched over a desk with a mind as blank as a void, that I think it really isn’t. 

I run my hands down the side of my face, the heels of my hands pressing into my skin. 

The god of mischief was just as good of a father as you’d expect. 

I remember the nights still, when he shouldve been home, stuck in that run down apartment with his face plastered across the tv, a big mischievous smile because he thought what he did was significant.

It makes me flinch how much I’ve grown to be like him.  

There’s a small crack between the holder and the 3rd gem of the necklace, a gap that would be hard to notice from any other angle. I reach out my thumb, and run it gently along the crack a few times as if to smooth it out. 

Another sigh, and I stand up from my chair. I’ll figure it out. I have to, I’ll do it and I’ll become better than he ever was, as low as that standard may be. 

I just have to do it right.

***

“He did it again.” 

“Who?”

“Who do you think?”

Bruce looks between Tony and the computer curiously, standing up from his work. 

“Don’t tell me.” 

Across the room, Mr. Stark sighs. 

“That son of a bitch.” He mutters, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose. The headline, big and bold on his screen, “Precious necklace stolen from small town museum- the work of Y/n.” 

“He’s up to something.” Bruce says, moving so he can read the headline over Tony’s shoulder, who just groans.

“He’s not just planning something- he knows something.”

Bruce glances back at the brunette man, “Should we do something to stop him?”

The answer is obvious. 

“We have to.” Tony sighs as his face leaves his hands. “We need him anyways.”

At this, Bruce looks at the man curiously. “We do? Why?”

Tony stares straight into the pixels of his screen.

“Because I know what he’s planning.”

***

It’s a slower day in downtown DC.

I can’t decide what I’m doing here, nor what I want to be doing. All I know is that I’m getting closer and closer to the capital with no plans of turning around.

There’s a corner coming up, and I turn, not expecting to see the woman around the corner when I do.

Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, looks at me expectantly as we make eye contact. 

“Well hello.” She says smoothly, giving me only a second to process before lunging for me. I feel a tingling in my palm, sparks of blue seeping through my fingers. 

“Oh, what a nice surprise.” I mock her, and she’s about to reach me. But just before she can make contact, I’m out of there again. 

I leave her on the sidewalk with nothing but the same blue fog as always, appearing back in an alleyway a few blocks down. Thinking I’m alone, the sparks fade from my fist. But another voice makes itself known before I can even turn around.

“-well that was easy.”

I spin around only to see Captain America at the other end of the alleyway. My eyes narrow- they’re kidding.

“Well doesn’t this work out well.”

Another glance behind me and I can see that Natasha has caught up to me much quicker than I had expected. I raise an eyebrow. 

“So you brought a friend? That’s nice.” I remark, before throwing a swift punch her way. She jumps back, just before I can hit. 

Arms wrap around my neck before I can process anything else- the strong grip from Captain catching me off guard. I try to pry him off of me, leaning my head down and without a second thought I bite him as hard as I can.

With a yelp, he pulls back. 

Blue fog surrounds me before I’m suddenly behind him, swinging my fist so it collided with the back of his head. He stumbles, holding the spot where I hit.

“He bit me!” He yells.

“You strangled me.”

With a groan, and the roll of her eyes, Natasha pounces on me again.

There’s struggling as she pushes my body backwards, but I continue to fight back until she suddenly backs away from me.

Confused, I step towards her. But her foot comes at me quicker than I can comprehend.

Next thing I know, my head collides with the strong metal of a shield. Fuck.

“Good work.” I hear faintly, as I’m stumbling to the floor. 

Words morph from Natasha’s mouth, but everything goes black before I can hear anything else.

***

“What are we gonna do with him?” 

Natasha stands across from the glass jail, circular in the center of the room. A bit dehumanizing, really, like some sort of exhibit. My unconscious body is still slumped on the floor, next to the one chair inside the cell. 

“Better yet- where did you get him?”

Thor asks, standing next to Bruce, Steve and Clint. His strong arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s looking around waiting for an answer.

“We think he’ll be useful in the plan against Thanos.” Tony answers, far too nonchalant for the situation, “he might be looking for the same stones we are.” He spins around in his chair, back now facing the computer he was just looking at to look at his teammates. A sound close to a scoff comes from Thor.

“You know that’s my nephew, right?” He points to my body, “unconscious in your little glass cage?” 

Tony rolls his eyes, rolls his head to the side. “I am well aware, Thor.”

“Wait, hold on-“ Bruce speaks up, processing far slower than Tony would like, “so we just kidnapped him? That was the plan?”

Natasha clicks her tongue. “Pretty much…”

“And are-“

Small plastic wheels scrape the floor as Tony abruptly stands up. So impatient, he claps his hands together to grab everyone’s attention.

“Glad we’ve established the obvious, how about we let me talk now.”

Thor immediately brushes him off- much to Tony’s annoyance. The muscular man steps forward and raises an eyebrow at the shorter man, who looks up at him with disinterest through the thick frames of his glasses. 

“What does Y/n have to do with any of this?” He asks with crossed arms. Tony sighs. 

“He recently stole this from some small town in the west,” Tony hands the blonde man a picture of the necklace, “looks important, part of a plan. We think he’ll be a good weapon against Thanos, and it’s a good excuse to see what’s up with the necklace.”

Thor examines the picture, eyes flickering to the glass occasionally. It still feels a bit absurd, though. 

“You really think he’s up to something big, huh.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.” Everyone’s gazes turn to Clint, “he is Loki’s kid, isn’t he?”

Thor doesn’t respond, he doesn’t have to because Tony is talking once more.

“Oh he’s Loki’s kid, alright.” He says.

“So, how do we plan to get him in on this, exactly?” Steve finally steps in.

It goes quiet, for a second, though the awkward glances are quite loud. 

“…I mean…we could get Loki in on this too.” Bruce answers after too long of a pause. Immediately, Thor shakes his head with a mighty laugh. 

“Oh no, no we aren’t doing that.” 

“That would work.” 

The blonde man snaps his head over to Tony. 

“Uh, no. Believe me, it wouldn’t.”

But he is once again ignored, instead walking away from the room and leaving the rest of the curious Avengers behind. But Thor follows. 

“Stark!” He shouts, following him out and down the hallway despite the sigh that he is met with.

“What, Thor.”

“You will not bring Loki here.” He says firmly, even if the words don’t make it through the stubbornness of Tony’s brain.

“And why’s that?”

“It’s a horrible idea-“

“You got a better one?”

Becoming exasperated, Thor throws his hands up before the drop to his sides. “I’ll do it, I’ll convince him.”

Tony scoffs. “Right, cause you’re so good at that.” He goes to walk away again, but still, Thor persists.

“It won’t work if Loki tries-“

“How do you know? Hmm?” Tony gives Thor a look, something so knowing that it frustrates Thor to no end, “when was the last time you talked to Y/n? Or Loki, for that matter?”

He wasn’t going to get anywhere with this. Tony’s too stubborn, too head strong to negotiate right now. So, Thor only shakes his head. 

“Fine, do it your way, you’ll see.”

“That we will.”

***

By the time I’ve woken up, it’s far later in the afternoon. 

I try to sit up, head throbbing from the start of a migraine, when I realize I have no clue where I am. 

The edges of my vision blur together while I stumble up, so dizzying I nearly have to sit down again. Below me, my knees feel weak, like they could give out at any moment. But I stand anyways, stand and wait for the feeling in my muscles and bones to come back to me.

“Well, look who’s awake.” 

I whirl around, just close enough to knocking myself out again, and watch the figure outside of this…glass wall, stand up.

“Stark,” I mumble, rubbing the sore spot on my head, “should’ve known it’d be Stark.”

“Good morning to you too, Y/n.” 

I turn to see Natasha once more, how familiar. She’s leaning against one of the desks, and next to her are Bruce, Steve and Thor. I raise an eyebrow.

“Thor.”

He just nods awkwardly. “Hi Y/n.”

I look around, spinning, and chuckle. “Really brought in the whole gang, huh?” 

On the other side of the glass, Tony takes off his glasses to wipe at the lenses carefully. He looks uninterested as usual. 

Someone tries to talk to me again, but I’m already feeling the sparks of blue on my skin once more. 

“Uh, hey-“

“He’ll be fine.”

My head bangs against glass, and I’m sent back stumbling.

“What the fuck-“ My hand flies to my forehead, where I can already feel a bruise forming.

“The glass is a strong barrier,” Steve winks, “can’t get out.”

His cocky gaze makes me uncomfortable, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy. Nothing here ever is. 

I scoff, clicking my tongue. “Do you treat all your hostages like circus monkeys or am I just special?” 

“I’ll let you decide on that one.” Tony replies, settling his glasses back onto his face. “Now let’s get down to business.”

The room, now that I get a decent look at it, is pretty artificial. A large computer, followed by a smaller computer, scattered paperwork, a few glasses stained with the remnants of alcohol. Just about what I’d expect.

My uncle is sitting back, next to Banner, his big arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t look as calm or boastful as usual, instead glancing at the large doors. I furrow my eyebrows, following his gaze, but no one is there.

“We know you’re planning something.”

My eyes flicker to Steve, meeting his expectant gaze. I raise an eyebrow at him mockingly.

“Oh? Well that’s wonderful, though I thought I was quite obvious.”

Steve rolls his eyes, not amused. “Yeah, well, we are too,” he takes a step closer to me, “and we want you to be a part of it.”

I pause.

Visibly processing, it takes me a minute.

“…what?”

“I saw your little necklace heist the other day, since you’re so good at stealing think you could steal some stones for us?” Tony cuts in, raising an eyebrow at me. 

“You want me to steal stuff for you.”

“Well, and other stuff.” Bruce shrugs. He flinches away from my deadpan.

With the click of my tongue, rubbing my face, I turn back. “And why would I do that?”

Tony shrugs this time, “you might be interested to know we also are recruiting someone else.” 

I raise my eyebrow. “And who would that be?”

He doesn’t say the name, just gives me a look and by the glint his eyes I can’t tell if that’s better or worse. A voice suddenly sounds out from the doorway. 

“I’m going- good god I’m going, no need to shove-“ 

…

No.

I snap my head to the door. 

They’re joking.

The tall, unfortunately familiar figure of my father walks in. He looks almost the exact same.

Big gold thorns stick out from his helmet, a green robe on. When he turns to see me, I see his expression falter. For a second, he even looks nervous.

My eyes dart to Thor’s, who looks at me apologetically and shrugs. Then I look at Tony, eyes going cold. 

“If you wanted to persuade me to do something, Stark, he’s the last person you should’ve brought.”

I can see Thor out of the corner of my eye, how he’s looking between me and my dad, waiting for something to happen. But I refuse to look at Loki himself, even as he awkwardly sighs.

“Y/n.” He says, but I don’t respond.

“…what’s happening here.” Tony too, is looking between the two of us curiously.

“Should we leave?“ Bruce gets cut off by Thor. 

“I told you, Stark-“

There’s so much noise, so many voices, i squeeze my eyes shut to block them out. Why would they bring him here? Whose damn idea was this?

My fingers prod the skin over my temples, trying to clear my head, to think. Which, feels much harder since that blow to Captain’s shield over there. I wish I could make them feel like white noise against my ears.

Something someone says, who I assume is Banner or Natasha, catches my attention though. 

“I say we leave them alone for a bit, how about that.”

“Yeah I don’t want to have to watch this anymore.”

I’m realizing now their presence is better than the sole company of my father. 

“Wait-“ I turn around, them filing out of the doorway, “Thor.”

He doesn’t look at me, instead leans over and whispers something to Loki that I can’t hear. “Thor!” 

And, he’s gone.

An uncomfortable silence suddenly takes over the room, and I feel pressured to turn away. He clears his throat behind me, and then to my dismay, he talks.

“Y/n.”

I say nothing, and he sort of scoffs.

“Ah, the silent treatment, right.”

A quick breath escapes in disbelief, my anger is rising too quickly. I turn to him halfway, “would you rather I talk? Cause I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say much more.”

I can’t tell if he rolls his eyes or not. 

“Can we at least talk?” He asks next, and I start to feel the dents in my palm as my fingers clench tighter.

“Fine, do it.”

He didn’t seem to have expected that answer, because he takes a moment to continue. 

“Well, I…” he pauses, “well what do you want me to say?”

My lips fall in disbelief, and I look at him with a pinched expression.

“Are you serious?”

The internal battle of his brain becomes visible as his gaze darts away from mine, struggling for words. 

“Look, I know I wasn’t really there,”

“No really? I think I saw you more on tv than I ever did at home.” I say hoarsely.

“I, I was busy-“ he breathes out pathetically, each croak of his voice irking me. 

Locked in this, what is this, a cell? A cage? Put on display in front of the man I shame the thought of. I run my hands down my face, barely able to look at him. 

“Yeah, real busy running the world right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Well wasn’t that your end goal? Rule the world?” His shoulders recoil from my words, “become the most powerful god there is, right?” I look at him with exhausted, yet knowing eyes. I can tell by his silence, his face, he knows I’m right. I scoff and turn away, there’s no point in this anymore.

Moments of silence pass, I can still feel his presence behind me, looming like a shadow. By the time he speaks again, his voice has changed- more cautious, more delicate.

“I never thought I was cut out to be a father.”

And god that hurt, more than I’d care to admit. So I stay quiet.

“Thor was always the favorite,” he continues with a shaky laugh, “and he wasn’t even my real brother. So…”

The breathes he takes are louder, slower. 

“I’ve never really known how to, y’know, do that.”

I feel myself turning closer and closer to him, feeling the words he wants to say sting my tongue. 

“…have a family?”

“…yeah.”

His eyes have softened, pupils small like a speck against his iris. His throat strains against his skin, swallowing the lump in his throat to will himself to keep going now that he’s started.

“I should’ve been there.”

I know.

“But I wasn’t…and I should’ve been.” One pale hand pulls the helmet out of his messy hair, dropping to his side. The gold lightly smacks his thigh, yet his eyes never stray.

“My father wasn’t, and I wasn’t, and now…”

I finish the sentence for him.

“And now I’m just like you.”

My voice breaks as I say it, and part of my heart does too. 

“Which, no one deserves.” He laughs, but when I turn and watch his face I see the redness in his eyes, and the shakiness behind his smile as well as how it falters when he sees my own red eyes.

“I’ll fix it.” He almost whispers, voice brittle, “or I’ll try to, at least.”

And it’s not until now that I realize, that I know, I want to. 

My voice is too numb to speak, so I just nod tearfully. He swallows again. 

His eyes flicker to a panel just outside of the glass, and he reaches for it. I don’t have time to question before the glass doors are opening in front of me. 

He doesn’t say anything as I step out, and instead he hugs me.

I also realize I haven’t been hugged in a very long time. 

“I’ll do everything I can, Y/n.” Is what he says to me, voice hoarse against my ear and I hug him back with the strength I have.

“You better.” I mutter back, I can’t forgive him now, but with the warmth of his hold, I pray we’re both right.

#Father Loki x male reader #Marvel x male reader #66 recs&replies #marvel #loki x son reader #Loki #Thor

[pauls1967moustache]

Ok so I’m new here ( Beatles fandom ) and I’m just trying to learn as much as I can but once I think I feel like I’m getting a grip on things, I’m made very well aware that i don’t even know half of the lore with these boys. so would you be able to tell me where i can go to just deep dive learn about everything? The good, the bad , the ugly , the dark , ect

Idk if I’m the best person to ask bc my general approach to lore is just to learn through osmosis and have read exactly 0 (zero) Beatles books, but I’ll tell you how I went about it.

When I joined the fandom the main thing I did is just go through blogs I liked, (not even to learn stuff I just wanted to Look At more Stuff) which would inevitably have quotes and easily digestible shitposts about stuff which can give you a pretty good idea of lore even if it’s not the most accurate source. @amoralto is a wealth of sourced information which I often return to when I need to find something for a fic. @muzaktomyears also reads beatles books I have no interest in ever reading for myself and posts great quotes so that I won’t have to.

Also, you can always ask people! We’re all in this fandom bc we like talking about this stuff. Some of us may be more knowledgeable than others, but I’m sure if you pop into most people’s ask boxes and say like “I’m new here. What’s the deal with the divorce meeting?” they will be happy to either tell you themselves or point you in the direction of someone else who can.

The Beatles Bible is a good resource too. I use it a lot for the timeline feature (which isn’t perfect but is decent enough) but there’s also articles about basically everything (with quotes!) so it serves the same function as like a fandom wiki to me.

Lastly, I may be biased bc I’m a writer, but I always find the easiest way to learn lore for any fandom is simply by reading a bunch of fic lol. Maybe not the most historically accurate way, but if you go in knowing that there are artistic liberties everywhere you can start to pick up on common threads and events (fic was how I learned about the jp paris trip and the existence of Stuart sutcliffe, among other things).

Also, I will say, if you’re someone who likes going off and doing research, off you pop! Have fun! But if, like me when I joined the fandom, you’re simply trying get your bearings a bit, know that no one is expecting you to be a perfect Beatles historian. You are allowed to participate in the fandom even if you don’t know every little thing. And as I’ve said, you will pick it up as you go along!

#I am not a lore person soz #but the nice thing in this fandom is there are many who are! #so there is room for anyone no matter what your approach to lore is #asks

[toomuchracket]

Have you seen that one video of the end of sex where matty looks like he j*zzed his pants? (Awful sentence to have to type but for some reason tumblr wont let me link things off anon)

I’m not too sure about the d word timeline BUT since that was during atvb imagine already being together when it happened and watching it offstage (or maybe bustling around backstage doing odd tasks for the crew & on a whim checking twt and seeing someone in the crowd had already posted it IDK NOT IMPORTANT).

Anywayyy he comes offstage and it’s all you can do not to pounce immediately 😭 sneaking off into some supply closet to give him the sloppiest most soul sucking bj ever while he tugs ur hair and tells you how well you’re doing for d*ddy…. Giving him exactly .5 seconds to recover after he finishes before dragging him off to your hotel room to actually fuck………. I am so sorry but i cannot be normal about this !!

i wrote a tiny fluffy version of this here!! and yes i am absolutely familiar with said video. but frankly i think every time he plays that song you would go nuts with lust lmao - especially if it's the first show you've managed to attend of tour because of work commitments back in london. like it's been a busy day - your flight only got in that morning and you're still technically working, and matty's been prepping for the show/doing promo - so you haven't had much time to yourselves; you had a quick dinner date and catchup together, but there was no time for more passionate affection than a little makeout session just before matty went onstage (and a tiny kiss after his quick change after consumption). and yeah, you want him enough as it is, and then you see him with that bastard red guitar and you're DESPERATE. you know there's nobody at the show that needs to be met and chatted to backstage afterwards, it's a "rest for a minute, get changed, go back to the hotel" type situation, so when matty comes offstage all undressed and sweating and exhilarated and just so so sexy and pulls you into a hug, you whisper in his ear like "i love you, i'm proud of you, and i really really need you right now". and matty pulls back to hold your face in his hands and look at you, rubbing his thumb across your lips; he sees how desperate you are for him and he's like "yeah? you need daddy to make you feel good, princess? got you all worked up tonight, it seems", and you drag him off to a random lockable cupboard you found earlier, getting on your knees and saying "need to make you feel good first, s'all i can think about", and matty's like "fuck go ahead babe". and you don't need to be told twice - the two (or so) months of not seeing your man AND the way he looked onstage tonight have turned you a bit feral, so you suck his dick like your life depends on it, savouring every hair tug and guttural moan and whine of your name and hiss of "fuck, that feels good. so fucking good for me, princess, so good for daddy" that leaves matty's lips. he finishes so quickly that he'd probably be embarrassed if he wasn't focusing so much on stopping his knees from fully giving out, while you sit back on yours and watch in satisfaction, licking the last little bit of his cum from your lip. matty pulls you to stand after a minute or so, kissing you languidly before saying "that was definitively the best blowjob i have ever had. you're insane. i love you, my girl" - there's another kiss, before you pull back and smile at him like "i love you too. and that was only the beginning. let's go home so i can ride you on the stairs in our hallway", and matty's like "holy fucking christ OKAY". and you do! lmao <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #smutty asks #d word matty

[bitchapalooza]

I think Rosiepuff dies after they had escaped the tree. Chef is alone, and leaves after capturing just a single troll. If they were in the tree, she would've been catching a lot more for trollstice and probably had help. I also think brozone was created after escaping the tree, because it would've been hard to go separate ways in a small tree. I also think the bergens wouldn't have let the trolls be super loud in the tree, because it would have gotten on their nerves since they were always unhappy when it wasn't trollstice before the ending of the first trolls. Branch acts as though he hadn't seen any of them since the band broke up, which would've been hard if they were all confined to a single tree. A lot of people believe Branch to be older than Poppy but I'm not sure if that's necessarily the case. We also don't know much about troll aging considering tiny diamond could immediately talk and seems to have an intellect similar to an adult troll.

That’s what I thought too until I took the inconsistencies in the series into account. The timeline we’re presented with doesn’t make much sense to me; we’re told Trollstice happened 20 years ago. World Tour and Band Together are a month apart. The band splitting up was 20 years ago. On the fandom wiki it seems to claim it’s been a years between trolls 1 and 2, but I’m not sure how much I can believe that when I don’t see the actual source stating that. We are to assume that Branch and Poppy are at least 21-23 in the first Trolls, making them toddlers when the escape from Bergen town happens, and at least 24 in trolls 3. When the flashback to Rosiepuff happens, Branch looks to be about 4-8 years old, while in Brozone he was probably 1 or 2.

I’m sure they thought things out well enough but just didn’t exactly execute it very well since Branch’s past wasn’t a focus until trolls 3 and neither was the total past of the pop trolls, just their escape and what it’s led up to and what we got in trolls 2.

I think the bergens treated the trolls like livestock and figured that if they didn’t do their thing they probably wouldn’t actually taste good. There would probably be many gray trolls around if their spirits were down and repressed so often, which in their logic would be bad livestock and probably be seen as an infectious disease, leading to many needless dead livestock to prevent the spread of disease and the end of trollstice. The trolls probably had designated sing times, or just kept their singing to specific people(ie bands or singers) and kept it to INSIDE the tree(probably a naturally occurring hole in the trunk or in their respective individual pods) where the noise muffled enough to not attract attention.

As for the brothers going separate ways, well they’re small. The tree is very big to them. It’s probably more like a whole town or city for them. You’d actually be pretty surprised at how easy it is to not see people you know in a small town— I live in a small town with limited neighborhoods(like 2 or 3 actual neighborhoods and the rest are RV parks and mostly year round empty cabins and vacation homes) and apparently more than 5 of my coworkers actually live not far from me. And yet, I never see them when I’m out and about running errands(unless it’s the only Walmart between towns, other than that, I never see them. I don’t even see the one who lives right across from the post office! And I go to the post office very often! I’ve only encountered coworkers outside of work 3 times in the past 2 years). They could easily avoid each other if they were actually really trying to. And the escape wouldn’t really change that fact because many families probably got separated in the fray anyway, both in the group with Peppy and the group with Viva. Again, idk how trustworthy the wiki is and where they get their sources from, but it does mention Clay and Viva having escaped the Bergens together.

And I’m not trying to argue or anything, I mostly took this ask as an opportunity to explain my thoughts behind the timeline lol 🤷‍♂️

#ask #anon ask #trolls #trolls dreamworks #trolls headcanons

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

Do you think Eddie would have found out about all the supernatural adventures if he hadn't been Osirian and Patricia had been there instead? And how would the third season go in that case?

Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re asking about the Osirian!Patricia AU, right? If not, I’m so sorry for the rest of this answer 😂

So if everything was the exactly same through S1/S2 (i.e. the adults thought Joy was the Chosen One but it was actually Nina, the Cup got built, Sibuna gets cursed by Senkhara, etc.), except for the fact that Patricia was actually the Osirian, it stands to reason that the kids probably wouldn’t know that right away. And the same way Victor doesn’t actually have confirmation Nina is the Paragon until the S2 finale, the adults might suspect there’s something a little wacky about Patricia, but they probs would not know for sure what that wackiness actually was.

I think maybe in this AU because Patricia would still be interacting with Rufus as much as she did in S1 that he might tell her or give her reason to suspect there’s something up with her, but if let’s say he didn’t and she just spent the entirety of S1 having strangely intense nightmares and hallucinations that she and everyone else chalk up to being really upset over Joy’s disappearance. This just means that all of S2 is pretty much the same as canon apart from the occasional “funny feeling.” (If I were going to write this AU out as a story, tho, she’d probably know she was the Osirian by the end of S1, but for the sake of argument, let’s just assume this discovery comes at the same place as the canon timeline)

So here’s Eddie, right? He’s just a normal kid whose dad was a poopy head and left him and his mom to be in a cult. Casual business, all that. He and Patricia are still gonna hit it off, naturally, because nothing has really changed in their dynamic apart from a slight role reversal that isn’t even really relevant to them yet at the point where they meet, have their banter, fall for each other, etc.. The only difference might be that Patricia is a little more ✨inexplicably one-track-minded✨ about the mystery… so that could put some strain on their relationship. But other than that business as usual for Peddie.

Here’s where it gets tricky. In the finale, I don’t see any reason as to why Fabian, Alfie, and Patricia wouldn’t still go to the barn to rescue Jerome, and therefore Eddie would follow them bc he wanted to see what Patricia was hiding from him. He’d probably still get knocked in the head by Rufus, and Jerome would still give him the gem in a panic before getting dragged away, and Patricia and Alfie would still discover a concussed Eddie and bring him home, where she’d finally have to explain to Eddie who Rufus is/whats going on.

The divergence of the plot would come the moment Patricia gets her hands on that gem. She starts hearing voices, realizes Nina is about to do some dumb shit, starts rambling to Eddie that the Chosen One needs her, and she runs out the door. I don’t see why Eddie wouldn’t follow her, except for maybe if he’s really concussed. But I feel like he’d pull through because he’d obviously be really worried for his girlfriend, especially after what just happened.

So the final showdown happens, except it’s Patricia banishing Senkhara with the crown. So obviously if Eddie was there, he’d have a pretty good idea of the sort of supernatural shenanigans that went down.

In Season 3, however, all bets are off. Patricia would not be a shithead like Eddie, and she would obviously tell Fabian that Nina wasn’t coming back to Anubis House like a normal person, so that random Fabian vs Eddie brawl craziness doesn’t happen. Peddie probably still breaks up over the summer, but maybe not idk… let’s just say they did. Okay so Patricia has the vision of KT and the key, so when she turns up, Eddie is not being a total freak toward her, rather Patricia is, but it’s not as weird because Sibuna as a whole is being freaks about it.

KT gets sussed out as an ally rather than a threat pretty quickly, and Sibuna adopts her pretty quickly. Meanwhile, Eddie is aware that Sibuna exists, but isn’t taken into the club because his ex is now leading it 💀. So I’m thinking maybe he’s aware they’re up to something and does some of his own digging when his dad gets weird about the family tree project. Eventually, though, I think he’d approach Patricia and the others and offer his help. Cue romantic violins as the same harebrained scheme of KT to push her two friends back together ensues. Also in this AU she and Patricia are def besties bc there’s no wack misunderstandings and they’re still the only girls in Sibuna.

Now it’s also messy bc Patricia would be both Descended and the Osirian, but… she’s just OP I guess idk. Anyway, the ceremony works (womp womp) and S3b begins. I think Eddie would be in Sibuna atp, but maybe more in an unofficial way? Idk. But I think he’d probably get taken as a Sinner bc the only reason he escaped the crypt is because his vision of Patricia getting manhandled radicalized him. So he’s probs caught in a similar way to how he would have been if he’d not made it out of the crypt, and now he’s got all he needs to target the Osirian.

But don’t worry, she’s got plot armor!! Idk, anon it’s not super fleshed out 😂

Anyway, to give you the short answer to your question: yes I think Eddie would find out about the mystery in this AU, he just wouldn’t be as much of a key player in the story

#I really hope this was the question you were even asking #also anyone can feel free to add onto this! it’s a versatile AU #house of anubis #ask #tess answers #thank you anon #osirian!patricia #osirian!patricia au