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smuthospital · 7 months

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⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

#non con #lemon #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere husband #dead dove do not eat

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angelltheninth · 6 months

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How do you think JJK characters would behave during a train ride home? I got this idea cause Yuji is on a train in the s1 song, It can be any characters you want.

That's a very cute concept Anon, a cute way to start the day.

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Yuta, Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Geto x Reader

Tags: fluff, sitting on their lap, kissing, flirting, cuddling, slight threats, hand kissing, public display of affection

A/N: I've been on maybe 10 train rides in my life, mostly go by bus but trains can be nice, especially if they're big ones.

Yuuji immediately gives up his seat for you the moment he sees you step onto the train. He's actually been saving it for you, took one of the best seats on the train as a matter of fact. Trust him, standing while taking a train ride will be the least amount of strain that he'll put on his body today, at least this way he can look at you on the whole way to school.

Sukuna spots a perfect place for the two of you to sit but it just so happens to be occupied by what he determents are rude brats. They act though when he first asks about their seats but lose all their bravery when he puts one hand on the railing and leans in close, staring them down. With the seats free he lets you have the first one, then he slides next to you, leaning over to kiss your neck.

Megumi guides you to the first empty seat he sees. It's never a question of who should get the seat, in his mind it will always be you. In the event that he's tired too the two of you begin to look for two seats so you can both sit down and enjoy the ride, no matter how short or long. There's minimal conversation going on during the ride but he's always happy to show a bit more physical affection.

Nobara waives over at you energetically, doesn't even care that she's getting the attention of everyone else there. She saved you a seat next to her. Her bag was there the whole time but she has now moved it to her lap. She doesn't stop talking almost the whole train ride but she keeps her voice low, almost like telling you a secret, while her hand seeks out yours, drawing random patters on the back of your hand with her thumb.

Maki holds your hand the entire train ride. If there are no eats available for the two of you then she will be the one to keep you from falling. This is also a very good time to kiss your hand and watch you get hot and flustered about her very blatant show of affection. It's not often that she can act like this, most of the time she tries to be more professional but she doesn't care who sees her in this case.

Yuta can get very shy when you sit next to him on the train. For him holding hands is nerve educing enough, but holding hands for the entirety of the ride, and having your head on his shoulder too is almost enough for him to take off running. He tries to talk about random things to forget how nice it feels to have you so close to him, he probably won't ever get used to it.

Gojo is perfectly comfortable with letting you sit on his lap while you're on the train. It doesn't matter if there's an empty seat right next to him, he would argue that it's not as comfortable as his lap and he would be correct. His arms bring you close to him, ensuring you won't fall, his head lays against your chest, listening to your heartbeat increasing, it's so much better then the music playing in the train.

Nanami always stands in front of you with your back being turned to the wall of the train. This is the most protective he can be while in a crowded area. He is also a good thing to hold on to when the train comes to a sudden stop. You can hold onto him as hard you want, he doesn't mind, even if his suit gets wrinkled in the process. Well he might mind that a little but a small price to pay for the kiss after.

Choso loves it when you sit next to him so he can put his arm around you and feel your head fall onto his shoulder. Every few minutes he'll turn and give you a kiss on the forehead, signaling to everyone that you're together. Oh he is very shameless about that, if he could get away with more on a public train he'd do it too. But the most he can do is to shove away and glare at people giving you odd looks.

Geto teases you about how you always just so happen to pick the far back spots of the train so you can get away with kissing him more often. He'd kiss you no matter where you were but the slight secluded nature does add a little more intrigue. His hands can find their way lower if you have your back turned to the crowd, but if that happens then his lips will cover yours and muffle all your cute noises.

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lilyarchived · 7 months

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distanced [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?

warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops

summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.

“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out.

your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.

you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.

never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.

stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what’s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can.

you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.

you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.

“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.

as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”

he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.

“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”

a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated

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bunnyreaper · 7 months

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the price we pay

kinktober 10 - fuck machine

dom!ghost x sub!reader x sub!soap

(18+/mdni, fuck machine, cuckolding vibes, bondage, degradation, negotiated kink, anal)

Belonging to Simon Riley brought with it a litany of mysteries, both large and small—it's a privilege and a burden you and Johnny both willingly signed up for.

Simon was always the first (and often only) one to know things in your relationships—plans, observations, feelings, they'd all sit inside his head for weeks or months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come out. Over time, you've learned to spot the signs of a brewing plan or ruminating thought. This one you picked up on fairly quickly, having made a game of it with Simon.

Simon sits across from you, lonely on the loveseat as you lounge on the couch, lost in his phone with a focused squint. It's nothing unusual, the two of you spending time together peacefully coexisting in silence—but you sense something amiss.

"You're planning something." You whisper, eyes glued to him as he taps at something on his screen.

He pauses, gaze connecting with yours as he stares you down, resolute with a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, and?"

"How long now?" You ask.

"3 weeks."

"I'm getting faster, Simon!" You punch the air in victory, kicking and flailing your legs in a delighted little dance that makes your lover smile. "Okay, continue, I won't ask any more questions." You giggle as you bite your lip and turn your attention back to the TV, willing yourself to not think about the surprise.

So you weren't caught completely unaware when one day an oversized, nondescript box was delivered to the door. Johnny's away on an assignment without you both, meaning whatever it is could only belong to Simon, and likely part of whatever he's been working on over the past several weeks.

Johnny went away aware something was coming, but not knowing what—because unlike Johnny, Simon could keep a secret from his lovers. You've been resorting to unfair tactics with Simon, waiting until he's in his blissed-out, post fuck state to probe him gently.

You lay draped across Simon, both of you completely bare as you cuddle up—his hot cum still oozing out of you.

Now's your chance, you think. Simon's always more relaxed post-sex, and you're not going to ask too much.

Threading your fingers up to his hair, you stroke his scalp and smile as his eyes slip shut. "Is it a gift?"

"I suppose." He whispers, eyes cracking open as he eyes you wearily, you can see the cogs turning as he debates giving you an inch, and worrying you'll take a mile.

You study him intently, wondering if you can chance another. "For me?"

"For all of us." He reaches to your chin, tilting it as he leans in for a breath-stealing kiss that silences any further inquiries. "Now that's enough."

You nod, beyond satisfied as you snuggle back into Simon's chest and try to temper your excitement.

The package arriving perfectly in time for the day Johnny gets home from his mission is very suspicious.

You'd both spent the afternoon cuddling Johnny on the couch before Simon disappeared upstairs with his box and ordered you both to stay out of the bedroom until he allowed you in. Johnny had probed you for what you knew, as he tried to come up with ideas for what it could be.

"Mebbes it's a puppy, I'd like tha'" Johnny comments idly as he plays with your hair, stroking through it as he snuggles up behind you.

You giggle, but shake your head, not convinced by that theory. "I'd hope he wouldn't keep a puppy in the box for that long, plus surely it would've made a noise by now."

"Hmm." Johnny hums. "King size weighted blanket?"

Simon's eyes had lit up when you had mentioned it in the past. "Ooh, one we can all snuggle under." You wriggle back into Johnny, imagining the comfort of being cuddled up with your boys and blessed with the extra weight. Then again, you didn't really need a weighted blanket when you had them.

You hear Simon's footsteps as he starts to come back downstairs, and you turn over to shush Johnny with a kiss. "Quiet, don't get us in trouble."

"Aye, lass."

After an afternoon of soft closeness and conversation, the three of you would usually take this time to head to the bedroom and fuck the missing parties' brain's out, to catch them up on everything they've missed—but the atmosphere is so different, knowing whatever Simon has been planning is just waiting for you upstairs.

When Simon nods in the direction of the stairs, you both obediently rush to your feet, heading upstairs as he leads the way.

"Johnny, be a good boy and go take a shower for me." Simon's voice is a stern command as he reaches the landing and stops Johnny from entering the bedroom. "I'll come and get you when I need you, yeah?"

"Yes, sir." Johnny nods, his eyes widening as they connect with yours.

Separating the two of you isn't a good sign for what's to come, and your stomach flips with fear as you're led into the bedroom wordlessly.

"Simon?" You ask, voice hesitant he starts to grab some of the items he's prepared. The whispered name doesn't get a response, so you try again. "...Sir?"

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to you with that expression, the one that tells you his slipping into his dom mindset—head whirring with his plans, with considerations for all of your safety and welcome, and with anticipation for what's to come. "On the bed, now. Clothes off."

You freeze for a moment, swallowing thickly before you rush to throw up every garment you're wearing—they're hastily discarded on the floor, only to be collected and folded when Simon hits you with a stern look.

Once you're bare, you lay on the bed, uncertain of what's to come and yet trusting in the other man completely.

Simon repositions you as he wants you, turning you over on your stomach before pulling up your ass into the air.

The large object at the foot of the bed covered by the sheet hasn't escaped your attention. "What's that?"

Simon follows your gaze, to the covered mound. Silently, he pulls away the covering to reveal the contraption underneath.

A fucking machine.

"Wow, fuck. What are you planning?" You gasp, already squirming in anticipation.

Simon steals your focus, turning your head back into the bed. "You'll see."

His hands run over your naked behind, trailing down your legs before he gets to work gently attaching a spreader bar to your ankles—preparing you to be able to take the dildo attached to the machine. When he's done securing your ankles, he gets to work on securing your wrists together so you're truly helpless.

You squirm as you feel the lube drip onto your exposed holes, his finger working the slick into your pucker and preparing you. Your head spins, as you begin to anticipate the machine fucking your ass, until you feel the cold metal of a plug and Simon's hand holding your rear. He works slowly, opening you up on a finger or two until he can get the plug inside. With that done, he leans over, close to your head.

"Love you." He mumbles as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Safeword?"

"Red." You confirm, relishing in the feeling of being so safe with your boyfriend and dominant. "Love you too, Si."

"Good girl."

He gives you a once-over, checking everything is in place, before he moves away. Next, he gets to work on moving the machine, you can just see in your peripheral as you crane your neck that he's moving things around—and then you feel the tip poke at your entrance, positioned so carefully so as to not truly enter you.

"Fuck." You shiver with anticipation, trying to wiggle back onto it only to be met with strong hands stilling your hips.

You're already so needy, you're barely able to think of how the evening might unfold or what this will all lead to. Right now, you just want relief. "Are you gonna turn it on?"

"Not yet."

You crane your neck to watch as Simon leaves the room, leaving you exposed and anticipating.

The conversation between him and Johnny in the bathroom is muffled, barely audible over the blood pumping in your ears.

When they make it to the room, Johnny is being led by Simon, due to the silk wrapped around his eyes. Simon lays him face down on the bed next to you, pulling off his towel and leaving him exposed alongside you. Johnny's already rock hard in anticipation, his cock rubbing against the mattress.

"Why's he blindfolded?" You ask, brain trying to piece together what is happening, what Simon has in store.

Upon hearing your voice, Johnny's hand twitches, wanting to reach out to touch you but knowing instinctively he isn't allowed. Were it not for the blindfold, the two of you would at least be able to share meaningful looks.

"For the surprise." Simon mumbles, as he starts to gather lengths of rope to tie Johnny up with—by the looks of it, your boyfriend was going to be bound head to toe beside you.

"Oh, so I shouldn't ruin it?" You giggle, teasing Simon with the fact you could disobey and give the game away before he's ready.

Your words are met with a scoff, and you watch Simon scowl as he pauses. "Not unless you want to trade places with him."

As Simon gets to work tying Johnny's arms and legs, you realise very quickly that the last thing you want is to trade places with Johnny—at least you're seemingly in more of a position to get pleasure tonight, whereas it seems Johnny might get denied. You also realise that when the blindfold comes off, Johnny's going to be fucking furious.

"Am getting tied up, ooh." Johnny coos, his tone playful as his lips curl into a smirk.

You watch, fascinated, as Simon works deftly, securing the black rope over every inch of Johnny's gorgeous body.

"If it helps, Johnny, I'm a little restrained too—ow!" You don't get to finish your sentence, as Simon cuts you off with a sharp spank.

"What did I say?" He growls, attention turning to you for a moment to fix you with a steely glare.

You pout, but bite your tongue from giving any further hints—you know what's good for you, after all. "Sorry, I won't give anything away, sir. Promise." Hopefully, the groveling will keep you in Simon's good books.

"Yeah, could still be anything." Johnny comments, conspiring with you to keep you out of trouble—bless him. You had a feeling the two of you won't be so allied in a few minutes.

It becomes clearer to you with each second that this setup is one of Simon's games to play you against one another, and tonight you're the lucky one, rather than the punished. Of course, it's all only temporary, and in the spirit of everyone's enjoyment—outside of the bedroom, you all try your hardest to never create imbalances between you.

"Jokes on us, he's gonna tie us both up and leave us in here, so he can get some peace, Johnny." You joke, trying to keep the mood fairly light.

"'m getting close to it." Simon is back to grumbling, as he finishes up his binds on Johnny's limbs. "Safeword?"

"Red." Johnny confirms, his expression turning more serious.

Simon presses a kiss to his forehead before he gets to work on undoing the blindfold."Love you."

"Love you—" Johnny's words are cut off as his eyes flicker open, and he takes a second to crane his neck around to take in the scene beside him. "—bastard."

"Don't like what you see, Johnny?" Simon chuckles, low and full of mischief, as he walks toward the bottom of the bed, standing near the machine that is so close to working its way inside you.

"Fuck you." Johnny snarls, his eyes looking angered and desperate as he meets your gaze. He is, as you expected, furious.

And you hate that his reaction makes you leak—he wants you so bad, and he's being denied, completely at Simon's mercy.

You want to get fucked so bad, whether it's by Johnny or the machine or Simon, you don't care. But tonight, you know the only thing getting stuffed in your cunt is the dildo on the fuck machine. "Please, sir, please turn it on." The words rush out of your mouth before you can stop them, need coursing through your body.

There's a low growl from both men before Simon speaks first. "Tell Johnny how much you want it." His words are accompanied by him adjusting the dildo at your entrance, getting ready to grant your wish.

Johnny's eyes soften when you look to him, but the fury within is still evident. You hope he sees the softness in your eyes too, hope he can see how helpless you are right now under Simon's spell that is making you complicit.

"Johnny, want it so bad... fuck." You wiggle once more, trying to get any kind of relief. Johnny grits his teeth through the next part. "Tell him to turn it on for me, please."

Another growl from Johnny as he thrashes against the mattress, unable to really do anything at all. "These fucking ropes, as soon as I get—"

His sentence is interrupted by your moan, loud and uninhibited as the dildo breaches you, working itself in at a tortuously slow rhythm.

Simon is messing with the controls in your peripheral. "How's that?"

"Slow." You whine, desperate for more already. The machine picks up its pace, fucking into you more steadily as it strokes against your insides. "T-thank you."

Simon makes his way back to the side of the bed, standing behind Johnny as he taunts the man with his touch, stroking his face delicately as if to subdue and tame a wild animal.

"Is it better than him?" Simon asks, leaning into your field of vision.

You look up at him, mind hazy and unsure what response he wants. Does he want you to humiliate Johnny for him? Is he going to make you say you prefer the machine just to exert his power and control?

Simon senses your hesitation, your need for guidance in this moment, and his hand comes to stroke your face, much like he is already doing with Johnny. "Just looking for the truth, pet."

Your eyes flicker back to Johnny's, noticing the way they shine with something other than anger—fear and humiliation, as he waits for your response. Poor, sweet Johnny, already being broken down into submission by Simon.

"... No." You whisper truthfully, gaze fixed on Johnny, so you can catch his relief.

Simon tuts, walking back to the controls to turn them up as if to try and change your mind. "Shame."

The machine's pace increases, ramming the dildo into your cunt faster and faster and forcing the moans out from your pretty little mouth.

Johnny turns ferocious once again. "Yer not seriously gonna leave me here while a machine fucks ma girl instead of me?!" He pleads, desperate and mad and so confused, and yet still working his hips into the mattress for relief.

"Your girl?" Simon snarls, returning to tug at the roots of Johnny's hair until his head is floating off the bed.

Johnny swallows, winces at the sensation, and attempts to correct himself. "Our girl."

Simon throws his head down with little regard, as if he's disgusted to even have touched your other boyfriend.

"My girl." His voice is all growl, threatening and territorial as he crawls onto the bed, ignoring Johnny and his need in favour of yours. "Here's how this is gonna go, Johnny. You're gonna be a good boy and stay there."

You hear the cap of the lube open, and slick sounds as Simon lubes up his cock—both you and Johnny are breathless in anticipation.

Simon's fingers then work the plug out of you, and you know exactly what is coming next. You're about to get double penetrated, while Johnny lays there and watches, powerless to stop it. He's wanted both men to take you at once for so long, only to be denied.

Now it was going to happen without him.

You feel Simon nudge his cock at your pucker, spreading around the lube there and chuckling at Johnny's livid reaction.

"You're gonna stay there, and me this machine are gonna fuck her better than you ever could."

#simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #ghoap x reader #call of duty x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #kinktober #soap x ghost x reader

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clockwayswrites · 1 month

Text

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died�� the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

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nicksolemnlyswears · 6 months

Text

WELCOME HOME

MASTERLIST

pairing: opla!mihawk x reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+, swearing, smut, slight knife play, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight breeding kink

a/n: i got carried away with the fluff at the end. as much as i love smut i also love some domestic ass fluff which is very clear here lol.

i started this a while ago but got busy and only managed to finish it today! next up i’ve got buggy. i actually have two ideas for him. both have smut but the premise is so different lol. let’s just say one has a prominent daddy kink.

this might be very ooc! mihawk, again i’ve only watched the live action. i would like to start the anime but those 1,000 episodes are intimidating to say the least.

Working for the Marines proved to be useful for Mihawk. His bounty was canceled, and he got to travel and get up to shenanigans that would otherwise bring him trouble.

Mihawk gets to strike pirate after pirate, which benefits him greatly. It gives him the opportunity to search for the one meant to surpass him while getting paid. No one has come close to beating him yet.

After another tedious mission, Mihawk returns home. He opens the grand doors of his castle and leaves his hat and coat by the door. He silently goes deep into the castle and into his bedroom, unhooking Yoru from his back and placing it by the bed.

He removes his boots and pants while keeping his eyes on the figure sprawled on the bed. His dear wife sleeps peacefully on her stomach, her hair casting a halo on the white pillows.

He tries his hardest not to wake you, but you groggily open your eyes as he lays on the bed. He stares back at you apologetically, kissing the back of your head.

"You're back," you sigh, closing your eyes again. Your muscles relax when you see it's your husband who has returned from his latest mission.

Normally, you'd greet him much more enthusiastically. However, the sky outside is still a deep shade of blue, the stars twinkling brightly to shine some light on the otherwise dark room. And you have had a long, exhausting day that is pulling you back to sleep.

"Just got back," he responds softly. His eyes trace over your exposed figure. It's a warm summer night if the sheets crumpled by the end of the bed are any indication.

He was away longer than he expected. It's times like these that he resents his agreement with the Marines. He will resent anything that keeps you away from him. He would take you with him if your circumstances were different, but it's too dangerous.

You suddenly feel his touch on your back, but pay him no mind as sleep threatens to take you away once more. Mihawk traces your exposed skin with his small blade Kogatana. He likes seeing two of his priced possessions in his grasp.

He'd never dare cut you with it. That's reserved for his enemies. Enemies who would be scared by the mere sight of Mihawk, but you simply melt under his gaze without a worry in the world. The touch of the cold blade familiar and comforting.

"Don't you dare cut through my clothes again, Mihawk," you suddenly threaten when he glides the blade over your night dress. You might be safe from the sharpness of his blades, but your clothes never are.

"Or what?" he asks, lifting your silky nightgown with the blade. Just a bit more tension, and it will cut through the fabric. There's an unmistakable smile on his handsome face.

"Fuck around and find out," you groan, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Deep down, you know you're not getting any rest anytime soon. Mihawk is clearly in a particular mood.

"Is this how you receive me? With empty threats?" Mihawk teases you. He follows it with a "Tsk, I expected more from you."

"My love, it's four in the morning. My brain isn't working properly, but rest assured it'll come up with something by morning," you huff, burying your face on the pillow.

"I'm dying to find out what you come up with. In the meantime, I'll fuck around." Mihawk says with a tone that warns you he's up to no good.

In an instant, you hear the blade ripping through the material of your nightgown. The cut is clean and precise, exposing your skin to the room's humid air.

"Mihawk!" You groan, annoyed but far from surprised. Another piece of clothing ruined by Kogatana. Add it to the tally.

"Screaming my name already? I've barely touched you," Mihawk chuckles, amused at his joke. He traces his lips down your spine, pressing kisses along the curve of your back.

"Idiot…" you mumble with a small grin. You prop yourself up on your elbows, still on your stomach, looking at your husband over your shoulder.

"All yours, darling," he responds cheekily, biting down on your exposed ass cheek.

"Hey!" You giggle, wiggling under his hold. Mihawk pins you down with his body as he comes back up.

Mihawk brushes your hair over one of your shoulders to dig his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse point. You smile at this, having missed his touch like the familiar scrape of his beard on your skin.

Mihawk gives you enough space to turn around in his grasp. You cup his face and say, "I missed you. A few more days and I would've gone out in search of you." Your thumbs mindlessly rub over his jaw. No matter how much he cuts through your clothes, you love him.

Your actions bring him comfort as he leans into your touch, "My apologies. Will you allow me to make it up to you?"

You pretend to think as he stares you down. His gaze is soft and loving and filled with playfulness. Playfulness that is reserved only for you. "It's the least you can do," you finally respond, touching his lips.

Mihawk closes the gap in an instant, kissing you senseless. He groans into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue swiping your lips to gain entrance. He grabs your thigh, wrapping it around his waist to have you closer.

Your arms wrap around his back, scratching his skin with your nails as you pull yourself closer. Mihawk's hand comes up to your chest, pulling on the tattered fabric of your nightgown, successfully throwing it somewhere in the room.

"Don't forget you owe me another nightgown," you breathe as Mihawk kisses down your body.

"And a blouse, a skirt, a dress, and many the undergarments. But who is keeping track?" Mihawk says. He's settled between your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses down your soft stomach.

You prop yourself up to watch him delve lower and lower down your body. He searches for your gaze when he reaches your mound, where he places a small kiss. "I'd much prefer you sleep naked. We can sleep skin to skin."

You smile and shake your head at him, biting your lip in anticipation. "What of the nights you're gone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Mihawk's strong hands grasp your thighs, pulling them open. Maintaining eye contact, he traces his lips over the inside of your thighs, not quite kissing them. His facial hair tickles you and leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Not one to lose an argument, he responds, "More of a reason to stay naked. Makes it easier to touch yourself while you think of me," he purrs. You feel his breath where you need him most.

As you open your mouth to reply with a snarky comment, Mihawk takes his chance. His tongue licks up your slit, tasting you for the first time in weeks.

"Ohh."

Mihawk eats you out like a starved man lost at sea for months. His tongue licks and flicks over your clit repeatedly as his lips wrap around it to suck. You fall back on the bed with your fingers digging into his curls, pulling on them. It only spurs him on as his hips involuntarily thrust into the mattress. Pleasing you turns him on.

"I missed this cunt," he lewdly moans as he kisses the inside of your thigh, lightly biting the area.

"Mihawk," you whine, turning red-faced by his crude words.

He mimics your tone, saying your name. Your ankle digs into his back in response. He's far from hurt as he laughs into your thigh. Having had a taste, he slows it down, taking his time. Enjoying everything about you.

He spreads your lips apart, exposing your pink center to him. Strings of arousal cover you, giving your cunt a pretty sheen. You're easily embarrassed by Mihawk's actions, but your whines do nothing to stop him.

"Fucking beautiful," he purrs, thumb circling over your exposed clit.

Your fingers card through his curls, pulling them back to watch his lustful expression. No one has ever made you feel as desired as Mihawk has.

Soft breaths fall from you as you feel Mihawk's warm tongue gather the slick from your entrance. He gets lost in his pleasure as his fingers dig into your thighs. Obscene wet noises coming from his mouth, mixing with the staccato of your moans.

Each flick of his tongue gets you higher and higher, your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure. You whine as you get closer to your peak, small warnings Mihawk doesn't need as he's learned what each of your tells are. He's adamant about making you cum on his tongue.

It's a matter of time until he feels your legs squeezing his head and your hips bucking into him. Your back arching follows soon after as a loud cry escapes your lips.

Mihawk licks his lips, satisfied, as he pulls slightly away from you. The twitching of your cunt is not missed by his hawk eyes. He presses his palm against your center, easing you down from your high.

He crawls back up your body, kissing your nipples on his way up. You swat him away gently, feeling sensitive.

"My beautiful wife," he says once he's face to face. In his eyes, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. Your skin shines prettily with the afterglow of an orgasm.

"What's gotten into you?" You giggle, giving him exactly what he was looking for. Your smile.

"Can't a man miss his wife?" He asks, nudging your cheek with his nose as he sporadically leaves kisses on your face.

He did miss you, but he's also extremely pussydrunk. Going down on you does as much to him as it does to you, judging by the hard on pressing against your lower stomach.

"He can..." You smile, wrapping your arms around him to caress his back. "Just how much did you miss me?"

You feel his laugh in your ear as he catches your suggestive tone. Nonetheless, he whispers, "I missed you like the sun and moon miss each other."

"You're cheesy," you say, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him flush against you. His cock is between the two of you, a bead of pre dripping onto your skin.

"Don't tell anyone. Or else my reputation be ruined." Mihawk says, pressing his forehead against yours.

"It's our secret," you whisper in response with a kiss on his waiting lips.

Hiking your leg further up his body Mihawk lines himself up and pushes his cock into you. You gasp into the kiss as he fills you up until he bottoms out.

He always starts slow. The drag of your walls against his cock is a memory he never wishes to forget. He swears your cunt feels better each time he has the pleasure of being buried inside you.

His thrusts are slow but deep. He keeps a hand on your leg that's hiked up around his waist while he holds himself up with the other. The way you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes is his favorite sight in the whole wide world. Your soft gasps and cries are a symphony of their own, especially mixed with his own.

His slower pace only lasts so long as he gets lost in the way your cunt chokes his cock. He wants more. He needs more.

His resolve quickly disappears as he picks himself up to kneel on the bed. He easily pulls you closer as you slide down the bed with a yelp. His cock always inside of you.

Mihawk presses your legs up to your chest, grabbing a discarded pillow to place under your ass.

"Much better," he mutters as his hips buck against you tentatively.

"Yeah, 'cause you're not the one folded in half," you begin saying as he snaps his hips, which turns into a moan. The new angle brings tears to your eyes. The tip of his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

"Don't deny it. You like when I manhandle you," he gruffs, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He further presses against the back of your thighs as he looks down when you both meet. His cock wet with both of your juices.

"I'm. Not." You pant between each one of his jerks. You leave it at that, closing your eyes to focus on the sparks of pleasure.

This is Mihawk's favorite position just because of the visual standpoint. He's in total control and gets to gauge your body's reactions.

Your scrunched up eyes as you concentrate on following your release. The biting of your lips to try and remain quiet, yet whimpers betray you. Your chest bouncing pulls him into another trance as he watches your skin blushing and your nipples hardening.

Your eyes squint open as you bring your hand down to your lower abdomen, where you say, "Feel you right here, Mihawk."

Mihawk mutters a curse under his breath. He places his hand on top of yours and asks, "Want me to cum right here too, darling?"

His moves become sharper and more precise as he bullies that spot inside you. "yes. yes. yes. Fill me up, my love," you cry out.

It's all becoming too much for you. You bring your arm up to bite on it and muffle your moans, but he still manages to coax out your voice. Your moans remain a secret in the night, heard only by Mihawk.

It's fucking glorious the way your cunt squeezes his cock when you reach your climax. The rhythmic pulses of your high urging him to continue pushing into you. You try to push him away to get him to go slower, your hands only managing to caress his abdomen before he pins them down.

He is in total control. He just needs a bit more from you. You can take it. You've done it before. Your legs shake both in exhaustion and rapture. His pace is steady as he feeds into that feeling that tightens his balls.

His hands turn to lace his fingers through yours. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room. With hooded eyes, you watch your husband in all his glory. Trickles of sweat fall down his strong chest, and his curls are a mess atop his head. It all makes him look like a work of art.

Once more, the familiar sensation of pure euphoria washes over you, and it's enough to push Mihawk to reach that place as well. He stills inside you, his hands squeezing yours as he empties himself inside you, just like he promised.

With your hands on his hold, he brings them to his lips to kiss your palms. He follows the path down your arm until he buries his head on your shoulder. He lies there, almost crushing you under his weight, breathing you in. You wrap your arms around him, enjoying the closeness and rubbing your hands up and down his muscular back, rubbing the spots with the most tension from carrying Yoru around.

You talk in hushed whispers as you gain back your energy. It's a hard task, considering you were woken up in the middle of the night, and Mihawk probably hasn't slept in more than 24 hours.

Hours later, you feel the hard patter of footsteps nearing your bedroom. You sit up, preparing yourself despite Mihawk's heavy arm threatening to pull you back down into his embrace.

The door to your bedroom is slammed open with a bang barely second after you manage to slip on your robe.

"Wake up, wake up, it's morning!" Your loud, curly-haired boys scream as they run around the room with wooden swords.

"What's all this ruckus about?" Mihawk groans. Both boys freeze, noticing the other figure sitting up on the bed, "Papa!"

"There are my brats," Mihawk huffs as they let the swords clatter to the ground to climb the bed and throw themselves at him, "I missed the two of you," he says, hugging them and kissing their heads.

You stare lovingly at the scene in front of you. The twins were a result of your honeymoon with Mihawk. Fruits of your love, if you will.

The five-year-olds are the spitting image of their father. Kind reminders of him whenever Mihawk has to go out on a mission.

"Missed you too, Papa."

"I want some snuggles, too!" You exclaim, grabbing the twin closest to you and placing him on your lap to kiss and snuggle. He squirms and laughs as you tickle his belly.

The twins celebrate their dad's back as they cling and climb over him. You let them do as they please, considering it has been you who they've clung to for the past couple of weeks.

"Mama is sick," one of them blurts out to Mihawk, causing you to freeze.

"Mhm, Mama called the doctor to make her better!" The other echoes as you pull him to your lap to shush him.

Mihawk narrows his eyes at you as he listens to the twins ramble. You throw him a sheepish smile and quickly look down at your son, brushing his unruly curls to avoid his gaze.

"Well, Papa is home now. I'll take good care of Mama," Mihawk reassures them. "Why don't the two of you go to the kitchen and gather the ingredients for your favorite?'

"Really?" They ask in unison with excited smiles.

"Absolutely," Mihawk says just as excited, ushering the boys out of the room. As soon as they run out, he turns to you with a raised eyebrow, "Not that I'm a doctor, but you didn't seem sick a while ago."

"I didn't?" You ask incredulously, standing from the bed to sit on the vanity.

Mihawk follows you, knowing you're trying to avoid the conversation. He calls your name, kneeling down on the floor by your seat. "Why did you call the doctor?"

You sigh, mustering the courage to tell him the news. You face him as he settles between your legs. He grabs your hand and places a kiss on the back of it, giving you the courage to tell him.

"We're having another baby," you smile at him, squeezing his hand.

"You're happy?" Mihawk is ecstatic, to say the least, but he recognizes how hard your pregnancy with the twins had been. So, he toned it down for the moment.

"I'm happy," you nod, allowing him the joy of having another kid. It's been six years, and you're ready for another baby. Besides, the boys are growing up so fast that they aren't babies anymore.

Mihawk hugs you from his kneeling position, digging his head into your stomach, "You think we'll have a girl?"

"I have my fingers crossed. There's too much testosterone in this castle. One thing is for sure though, it's the last one," you tell him, kissing his head.

"Come on, darling. We have more space for two or three more..."

You roll your eyes at him and gently push him away, reminding him he has two hyperactive boys downstairs waiting for him.

#netflix one piece #fanfiction #opla mihawk #opla smut #opla x reader #opla mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #opla dracule mihawk #pole dracule mihawk x reader #smut #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction

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cherienymphe · 10 months

Text

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else… If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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wtfsteveharrington · 2 years

Text

put away my pride / roommate!steve harrington x reader

contents: requested - mutual masturbation where reader’s vibrator dies so they get a helping hand. i changed up the ask a lil but hopefully this still works!

roommate steve finds you flustered and on the hunt for batteries and wants to help take care of your bad mood.

if you squint there’s a bit of perv!steve energy. female masturbation w/ toy, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, a hint of cum play. a lil praise kink for steve.

author’s note: this was meant to be pwp then steve harrington’s chokehold came back strong so SOME plot was made. no reader pronouns included nor body descriptors outside of fleshy/soft skin references.

word count: almost 4.6k

Steve would never tell you this to keep you from getting embarrassed - but the walls in your apartment are thin. And you? Well... You can be a little loud sometimes, much to his surprise.

Not just you, but late at night there’s this faint mechanical buzzing he can hear that keeps him up. He’s tried moving his bed to a different wall, tried asking if you could hear him rustling around at night, tried everything he could think of.

Alas.

You wait until it’s late enough that you’re sure he has to be asleep, pulling your heavy comforter over your naked body and getting yourself comfortable back on the bed. It’s been over a month since Robin had dragged you two towns over to go to some sex shop, getting the two of you matching vibrators because she was too embarrassing to get one by herself.

It sat in the box under your bed for over a week until one day you were so frustrated and needed an outlet.

You’d been on edge the whole day and didn’t have the energy to tease yourself tonight. The toy hums to life under the blanket and you quickly think up some plot to keep yourself entertained before bringing the toy towards your clit. If you had been more present you might have noticed that it sounded weaker than normal, but you weren’t.

The toy had, maybe, 3 minutes of life left. Even in your needy state, three minutes wasn’t nearly enough. You hear it start to slow down, muttering out a string of panicked profanities as the toy gives out on you.

You’re flabbergasted, pulling the blanket off your heated frame which sends the toy tumbling somewhere across the room. A problem for later. You had told yourself to pick up batteries on the way home but forgot and were now paying the price.

Stumbling around your dark room you pull a shirt from the pile of laundry in the corner and begin your hunt because surely there’s two batteries hiding somewhere in this apartment. You’d steal them from a different appliance if it came down to it. You’re turning the corner into the kitchen and letting out a small scream because -

“Holy fuck, you’re awake!”

Steve’s standing in front of the sink with a glass of water in his hands. Truthfully? He’s a vision. Shirtless with these light blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips, hair a crazy mess, and you refuse to let your eyes linger too long but you could swear there was a bit of a bulge under those damn sweats. “Couldn’t sleep.. What are you doing up?” You’re cursing yourself for not throwing on shorts or cleaning yourself up before heading this way because you’re pretty sure he could hear why you’re up if you take a step. Still on edge and wet and he looks so pretty that it’s not helping.

You’re walking over towards the sink, pulling out the junk drawer next to it and digging through on a mission. This night had already become significantly more frustrating than you anticipated and this wasn’t going to help. “Just uh, - Noticed my alarm clock was dead. Wanted to get new batteries in it so I don’t oversleep.” Steve’s chuckling into his water, giving the energy that he knows something you don’t. Normally it would annoy you but tonight you’re too focused.

Where are they?

Everything in the drawer is getting slammed on the counter. The batteries surely have to be rolling around somewhere in there. Steve’s leaning in closer to you, heat rolling off his body and the combination of everything is starting to make you dizzy. “What do you need? AA’s? Hate to break it to you but I took the last of ‘em for our TV remote.” Fuck. You’re gripping the edge of the drawer, leaning over it and trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

Steve’s hand is on your lower back and he’s trying to reassure you with the touch yet little does he realize that it’s making your problem so much worse. “Wanna borrow my alarm? I don’t work until two tomorrow... Pretty sure I’ll be up before that.” You’re throwing everything back into the drawer, tears burning the edge of your eyes because you’re so frustrated. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight now. Won’t matter.”

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but nothing’s worse than being so close and having it ripped away without a solution in sight. Yeah, you could use your fingers but it’s not the same. His hand’s giving your back a small squeeze while he sits his glass in the sink.

“What’s got you this worked up, huh? Anything I can do to help?”

It feels like there’s something laced in his words but you can’t decide if it’s actually there or your brain is imagining it due to your current state.

He’s turning to face you, bare chest pressed against the side of your arm. Your cheeks are burning up and you can’t believe how much you’re falling apart from not being able to finish. Between the vibrator dying and the way you can smell how minty Steve’s breath is from brushing his teeth and the way his chest hair is tickling you with each deep breath he takes...

“Robin convinced me I needed this stupid vibrator and I kept telling myself I needed to get batteries after work for it because I’m practically -” You toss your hands up in the air with a scoff and you know you need to shut up but you can’t help yourself, “I’m addicted to using it. Like, fully addicted, Steve. All I wanted to do after this long ass day is lay back and make myself cum but now I’m standing in the kitchen looking crazy. I can only imagine what you’re thinking of me right now.”

You can practically feel how entertained he is. Lopsided grin as his hand presses deeper into your back. The pressure brings out this small moan from you that Steve’s not quite sure he didn’t imagine.

“M’not judging you. Trust me.”

Your shirt’s getting pulled up ever so slightly by his motions and he’s trying so hard not to look down and take in each inch of exposed skin. “I uh, - I could help. If you want me to, yanno? Getting girls off is one of the few things I’m good at and I don’t want you to suffer like this when I could easily take the edge off.” Blame how late it was for, blame the countless nights he’s spent listening to you moan in the other room...

Steve’s now cupping the back of your thigh, sliding up until you feel his thumb brush across the bottom of your ass. His lips are ghosting over the shirt covering your shoulder and you can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. You whimper out this pathetic sound as he begins to knead at your tender flesh, pushing your hips back into his touch. The past few years have toughened up his hands. His grip is stronger, the pads of his fingers and palms not nearly as soft as you were used to from the boys you’ve been with in the past.

Plus, not to mention, it felt different because this was Steve touching you, after all.

“Gotta give me something... Tell me to stop if this is too much and I will. We’ll get you the batteries out of the remote and never talk about this again.” You barely let him finish before you’re turning your head to finally face him, leaning in to brush your lips along his. “Need you to take care of me. Please.” He’s bumping his nose on yours, sliding his hand forward and giving you with a moan at the feeling of how slick your thighs were.

“Jesus Christ.”

You gasp as his fingers find their way between your folds, taking a small side step closer to him to give his wrist more space to move. The step has your thigh pressing along his crotch, now it’s both of you who are moaning at the sensation. Steve ruts his hips up towards you at the same time he push his hand forward to fully cup you, crooking his middle finger so it’s tracing the outer part of your folds. You finally lean in, connecting your lips in a kiss that’s messy and loud and so needy.

He adds his pointer finger to the mix, lightly applying pressure against your hole. You can feel yourself clenching at the touch, rocking your hips down on him. Pulling back from the kiss, lips glossy, you watch as the motion of your hips both works you up from the added pressure between your thighs and you can feel him getting harder on your side. The combination of all these sensations is making you lose all train of thought. This is crazy, isn’t it?

“Need to cum, Steve. Can you make me do that?”

“Yeah... Fuck, yeah, I can do that.” His hair is flopping down in his face as he nods his head along with his words, but that doesn’t stop him from watching your expression as he finally dips his index finger into you.

You’re gripping at his arm with one hand, his muscles flexing under your touch while the the other grips the counter for some sense of stability. Lips ghosting over each others as you gasp at the feeling. His thumb’s dragging along your clit at the same time he slips his middle finger inside of you too.

Steve’s finally kissing you and every nerve in your body instantly lights on fire. His lips are warm, more gentle than you expected. There’s a part of you that’s convinced you could cum from just his fingers and this kiss alone considering everything else that happened tonight. Both of you savor each time the other moans into the kiss.

You bring your hand to his chest, sliding it up through the patch hair then reaching down to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Can I touch you?” He’s chuckling against your mouth, giving a small nod while reaching around to cup the back of your neck. In all honesty, Steve would let you do anything to him. Tilting your head just right so he can deepen the kiss at the same time your hand slips into his pants.

Running your fingers through the patch of hair, dragging your nails against the skin, the combination making him buck his hips up towards your touch. His hand starts picking up the pace, scissoring his fingers deep inside of you to stretch you out. Not that he’s expecting anything more than this… But just in case he wants you to be prepared.

Your hand goes lower, his length hard against your palm. He’s rocking himself towards your touch, lips parted against yours but there’s too much going on for him to be able to keep up with kissing for now. You wrap your hand around him, cursing yourself for not getting something to act like lube before you got this far. Nonetheless, Steve’s fucking himself into your fist, enjoying the drag and friction your dry hand provides.

The two of you work each other like that, a mess of needy touches and sloppy kissing. You’re pretty sure the both of you could finish like this if you gave it another five minutes.

Steve has other plans.

You feel the vibrations through his chest as he groans next to you, pulling your lip back gently with his teeth and slowing his motions between your thighs.

“So fucking wet. Let me clean you up... Gonna feel so much better.”

He’s fully pulling away from you, eyes hooded and his lips swollen. Falling to his knees in front of you and using a firm grip on your waist to turn your body so your back’s now against the counter.

Steve’s ducking his head under your shirt. You can feel him alternating between kissing your inner thigh and dragging his tongue over your heated skin as he gets closer to your core. He knows how badly you need him, a feeling that has his ego sent to the moon, but he’s not sure if this will happen again so he’s going to savor it while he can.

This damn drawer handle behind you continues to press into your hip. A stray thought passing through that holy shit you’re gonna be left with some insane bruises tomorrow. You barely have time to process that when Steve’s pulling all your attention back to him.

“You ever think about me when you fuck yourself?”

The question makes you gasp, throwing your head back as if not looking at him makes it better. How do you even answer this without sounding insane? His thumb is pressing firmly against your clit as if to punctuate his question before continuing when you don’t instantly answer, “Have you? Because I’ve thought about you. Know I shouldn’t but sometimes I can’t help myself.”

Your hips jolt back as his thumb now swirls your clit, “Yes. Sometimes you come home and I can tell your date didn’t go well... I’ll lay in bed and think about you using me instead of your fist.”

He doesn’t respond, instead rewarding you by finally leaning in and pressing a kiss to the left of your clit, the right, above it, then wrapping his lips around the nub while starting to move his fingers still buried inside of you.

You’re lacing your fingers in his hair, knees getting weaker by the second as you rock your hips towards his mouth. He’s lapping at your hole, letting his tongue just push in to tease you before showing your clit love too. You feel his fingers at your core now, one sliding inside of you once again while he sucks at your clit. He’s already worked you up, he knows one won’t do, so before you can even register there’s another finger being pushed in with the first one.

Steve’s fingers are dragging inside of you, a firm pressure along your walls, bending them to press down just right and - “Steve, fuck. Gonna cum if you keep that up.” That’s all the encouragement he needed to keep up that pace, continue tracing over your clit with his tongue at the same time. Flicking it against the nub, moaning into your sensitive skin.

There’s something about Steve Harrington kneeling on the kitchen floor, ignoring his own hard cock, and eating you out better than anyone else...

You’re tightening your grip on his hair, hips twitching as your orgasm builds deep in your stomach. He’s not backing off. Bottom lip dragging along your folds as he moves to suck your clit in between his lips now. You’re choking out his name, pressing your thighs tight around his head and throwing back your head as your climax hits.

Steve licks you through your orgasm, humming into your sensitive core as he works away. His grip on your waist is the only thing keeping you upright as your body starts to go limp, overwhelmed and exhausted from the night’s events. You can feel him sit your feet on the cold kitchen floor but you both know your thighs are shaking too bad for you to support yourself.

He’s chuckling to himself, admiring how much he was able to get you to fall apart before helping you jump backwards onto the counter. Maybe you shouldn’t be up there bare assed, neither of you particularly care at the moment.

As your body comes down from it’s high, you start to really notice how much Steve has given you without asking for a single thing in return. He’s straining against his sweats, shifting uncomfortably, cheeks turning rosy.

You wave him closer, giving him a sleepy and haphazard grin as he steps between your legs. He’s going to excuse himself to the bathroom or claim he needs to sleep... Make up something so he can go take care of himself.

Steve’s lost his train of thought as you brush your fingers alongside the top of his cock. You’re taking mental notes - slight curve, thick vein to the left of where you’re touching, his hips keep jerking when you gently rake your nails against his length. There’s a thick tension in the air that’s sending a shiver down your spine, the motion not going unnoticed. Both of you know you should probably go to bed, but Steve deserves more than a night of jacking off in his bed, right?

The question comes out before you can even register what you’re about to say.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Steve’s cock twitches beneath your fingers and you can hear his breath get stuck in his throat. He starts rocking himself into your hand and if you scoot up a little more - The head of his cock is now flush against your core. You watch as he grabs a hold of himself, dragging his tip through your folds and shuddering at how wet and warm and God he wants to sink into you so bad.

“Don’t know if I can fuck you just once. Think I’m gonna get addicted.”

Which makes you giggle. A lot.

You’ve seen him through all his phases, from King Steve to hopeless Steve, and you never once pictured that you would be his undoing. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to his brow, his nose, his cheek, all the way until you’re kissing under his ear and -

“Make me yours then.”

Steve bites down on his bottom lip and has to take a moment or he’s running the risk of ruining this for both of you. He’s tapping himself on your clit one last time before lining himself up, meeting your eye and watching your expression as he starts to inch in. Your face scrunches up as you give Steve this gaspy moan that he’ll never forget. Once he’s fully buried inside of you, there’s a hand clutching at your hip while the other comes to cup the back of your neck.

“Feels good?” There’s more pressure on him to get this right with you. You’re nodding instantly, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Some of the tension in the air being replaced with nerves as it hits you both that holy shit you’re fucking on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, feels really good. Do you, Stevie? Feel good?”

He’s giving you this goofy little smile, giving an experimental rock of his hips. “Feels - shit... Feels amazing.” Stopping short of telling you that he’s already pretty sure you were the best thing he’s ever felt. That might be a little too much.

Steve’s lips drag across yours, moaning into your mouth as he starts to build up a rhythm. Slow, deep strokes. He’s a little caught up in his own thoughts - Trying to make sure he doesn’t do too much since you’re still sensitive, trying to show off for you after years of talking up how good he was, trying desperately not to make a fool of himself.

You stroke along his chin before letting your hands fall down his chest. “Too much going on in that pretty head of yours.” Tightening your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his ass so he’s bottoming out in you. He’s choking out a moan, hips instinctively rocking the best they can against the pressure you’re putting on his body.

“Wanna do a good job - Wanna impress you.”

His hips buck deeper, making the two of you moan in unison. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers lacing in his hair as you drag him into another kiss. The two of you haven’t learned the other yet, how you both like to kiss and be kissed, so it’s sloppier than you wanted but it gets the job done. Steve’s grabbing onto your hip with one hand, clutching the counter with the other for stability as he deepens his motions.

You whimper at the new sensation, thighs losing their hold on his frame as he fucks into you with a new passion. Muttering out a broken string of praises and pleas as he chases his own orgasm. Steve’s burying his face in your neck, all you can hear anymore is the sound of him moaning mixed with his shaky breathing right by your ear.

“Wanna impress me, Baby? Can you come for me? Know you want to so bad... Show me how good I feel.”

You’re not totally sure where this side of you is coming from, but you know you did something right when Steve brokenly grunts out your name and his hips start to lose their pace. You start clenching yourself around his length, sneaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your own clit. It’s rare you finish during sex, yet here Steve was making you think you could come twice.

He’s pulling away from your neck, lips finding yours with a feverish intensity you weren’t expecting. It’s needy, primal even. You’re whimpering into the kiss, dragging your nails along Steve’s back with the hand that’s not between your thighs. It hits you by surprise, that tension building up once again as you cry out Steve’s name.

It takes every ounce of strength for him to not finish deep inside of you as you come undone. Instead he’s pulling out once he feels you relax, choking out your name as he strokes himself through his orgasm, watching as each drop lands against your fucked out pussy. Admiring how pretty you look like this, how much he likes when you look like you belong to him. He’s unwrapping his fingers from his cock, reaching forward without thinking to collect the mixture of you both. Thick on his fingers, he’s making eye contact with you for a moment before looking pointedly down at your lips.

You part your lips, eyes focused on his as Steve’s fingers now weigh heavy against your tongue. Getting right to work cleaning him up, moaning at the way you two taste together. His eyes gloss over, pulling his fingers from your mouth then stealing one last kiss.

The two of you stay close for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath and simultaneously letting the reality of the situation settle in. His forehead is pressed against yours. His hands lazily sliding along your thighs while yours are firm on his back.

Holy shit.

You just fucked Steve.

He silently gets to work cleaning the two of you up. Taking a moment to ponder between using a kitchen towel or a paper towel to wipe you down with - finally deciding that the paper towel was probably cleaner. He’s delicate with you. Catching your eye and waiting for the small nod of permission before reaching out to wipe your inner thighs. You grip his shoulder as he wipes at your core, heat rising to your cheeks before giggling out some apology about still being sensitive.

As if you need to apologize.

You watch, entranced by seeing him this up close, as he twists his head, pressing a small kiss to your fingers still resting on him, then stepping back and out of your touch. He toss the paper towels away before moving to grab the discarded cup of water from earlier. Filling it under the tap while he yanks up his pants much to your disappointment. It’s not an uncomfortable silence… Just the two of you trying to navigate what the hell comes next.

Steve takes a long drink of water and you let your eyes linger on the way a droplet finds its way down his adam’s apple before disappearing into the hair on his chest. Now that you’ve finally let yourself truly look at him, not just keep your guard up against admiring him... “You’re pretty, Steve Harrington.”

He’s blushing, choking a bit on his last sip of water. The half full glass is being offered your way and you use taking a drink of it to mask your entertainment at the sight of how flustered he got. Steve’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand then reaches over to squeeze your knee. “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.”

The glass is taken out of your hands once it’s empty, so you take that as your signal to hop off the counter. “We gotta deep clean this kitchen tomorrow. No way I’m gonna cook off these counters until I know we’re both off of them.” Now Steve would laugh, but you way overestimated how steady your legs were and land on the floor too unstable for your own good. You can hear him laughing behind you at the sight, reaching out to hold your waist and keep you steady.

You both start stumbling down the hallway, a mess of laughter and jokes and getting comfortable with each other once again. It’s not until you hit your bedroom door that you realize... What comes next? Is it bold of you to assume you two would sleep together? Does Steve even want to sleep next to you?

Glancing between the door, back at Steve, and towards his bedroom door - You decide to leave the decision up to him.

Easily navigating your dark room, you find your way to the bed and make a show of scooting all the way against the wall. Your door is still open, there’s plenty of space for Steve, it’s the best invite he could possibly get. So imagine your surprise when there’s nothing more than silence at the door before you hear him start to make his way towards his own room.

Not even a goodnight?

You sigh into the pillow, pulling your blanket tight around your body while squeezing your eyes shut. What the hell was that?

The fact that he didn’t even say goodnight was close to sending you into an overthinking spell - If it weren’t for the fact that seconds later you hear his bare feet padding down the hallway and Steve’s bursting into your room. “You always take up so much blanket I needed my own.”

“I do not! You always get hot while you sleep and kick it off, not my fault if I take advantage.”

He’s kicking something across the room, wincing in pain and stopping himself right before getting in bed. You can just make out him squinting and - “Holy shit, I think I just kicked your vibrator. Why was it so hard? I thought they would be like kinda squishy?” You’re squealing, pulling the blanket over your head to try and hide from the embarrassment.

“Steve Harrington! Shut up and get in bed or I’m going to lock you out!”

The bed dips besides you, Steve laughing while he wiggles his way under your blanket and draping his own across the two of you. “Fine, fine, Jesus Christ don’t lose your mind.” He’s pulling you into his chest, pressing a string of soft kisses against your shoulder. The two of you falling asleep easily.

Just know - Steve still wakes up with neither blanket in the morning.

#i'm back bb #steve harrington #s.h. ♡#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington pwp

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xeeroo08 · 8 months

Text

Astr observations 《4》

Disclaimer: I am not an astrologer. This post is only for entertainment purposes, so whatever I have mentioned, if it is reasonates, well and good, and if it doesn't, then please take it with a grain of salt. Thankyou.

🛖 Aries in 3rd house may have a very reckless yet mature behind the scenes relationship with their siblings. They also fight a lot with their siblings for no reason. Surprisingly, this usually goes physical more than verbal. Very playful relationship. There is always a strong urge to hit the other person and irritate them to death. It gives them pleasure. When injured, you might immediately stop the fight no matter how serious it is and take care of each other. Oh, and if someone else dares to trouble any of you, hell would break loose. They can't hear anything bad about each other. In certain cases, this could also apply to mars in 3rd house.

🪵 Dirty mind, Dirty mind, Dirty, Dirty, Dirty mind~ Heard the song? Yeah it's made for those who have their personal planets or ascendant conjuct asteroid Prevert. Trust me, the dumb way to die is by sneaking a glance in their minds. You will be traumatized for the rest of your life and will never look at them the same way again. At any given moment their thoughts are always in gutter. Yeah I am calling myself out at this one. Do I care? No.

🛖 Mars in 10th house folks are really good at dancing. They dance so well.... like you can see the passion in their steps. Dancing can be one of the hobbies in their lives. These people can also be known for dancing professionally and being captivating as hell on social media.

🪵 Lilith in 7th house could indiacte having seen a lot of failed marriages in their life. This could be in their immediate family or even include their own parents. Hence these people have a really different mindset when it comes to marriages. They might even resent the idea of getting married and often question, what's the point?

🛖 Moon in 1st house are babies. Literally babies. Like they look so damn cute and adorable that I just can't help myself but give them a huge hug. They are the most genuine type of people I think because its rarely when what's on their mind is not on their faces. They look so innocent and naive (even if they are legit not.) People just wanna protect them at all costs. They bring out the maternal instinct for them from the other person naturally. But no matter what their warmth is the best comfort zone and their arms are home <3

🪵 Mars in 5th house would definitely be that uncle/aunt/cousin/sibling who spoiled small kids to death and taught them to do weird stunts and create a headache for other family members.

🛖 Transit Saturn in 1st house is really frustrating. It feels like you are doing nothing progressive for yourself and just wasting time. Your efforts go in vain and its really hard to maintain consistency. Sometimes you also realize what mistakes you are making but you find it difficult to correct them. Mental state is always fluctuating and self-confidence is very down. This mainly goes on until the very end when you realize that now you gotta be serious. But when you really do hardwork and break the cycle of laziness, it pays off. Its like an immature, careless kid suddenly becoming a responsible and serious person. Remember, our beloved saturn plays mind games with you. Its either you break free from this if you want the prize or pay the price.

🪵 The people that I have seen to be most likely get cornered, misunderstood and targeted are people having chiron in their 1st house. Its really concerning and hurtful. Because of other idiots these babies get hurt on a very deep and subconscious level. They occasionally have identity crisis and depression is their bestfriend. They try to be happy but life always seems to push something in their way.

For example, I have this relative of mine and she lost her brother a year before she got married. She thought if she starts fresh, it would help. But unfortunately turned out her in-laws were not good people. She was gravely misunderstood by everyone. Even if people knew that it was not her fault, they took great pleasure in gossiping about her, blaming her and literally named her a psycho. Which she is not ofcourse. She was just mentally fragile and instead of understanding her, supporting her, they made her more unstable for no reason.

🛖 Leo venus folks love Cats. They are an animal lover by heart and soul. They are someone who might stop their car in the middle of the road because they saw a really cute cat walking on the sidewalk. Just to go their and mingle with it while thinking, If only I could take it home....

🪵 Cancer moons in 3rd house, please, please stop imitating that baby voice just to butter me up and get your work done. You might think its cute but no, I can see through everything and its so annoying plus immature. Ofc now it doesn't apply to everyone out there but those who do, please take my advice and stop it. Usually I have noticed only underdeveloped people do this but until they realize, its too late and others already find them so annoying. Honestly Cancer moons are so smart yet sometimes they.....*sighs*

🛖 Nessus aspecting Mercury could mean that you often end up hurting people through your words or the way you communicate even when you genuinely don't mean it. These people are really misunderstood a lot of times. Also this works the other way too. For example, you get easily hurt or offended when people speak ill about you. They might just share their opinion on your new home decor but instead you would feel insulted when in reality that's not the case. Not that you would hold a grudge, it depends person to person but you will definitely not overlook that. It would just sting a lot for no reason. You will always wonder, why did she say that?

For positive aspects, this could work out well too, for instance they know exactly what to say and what not to. They can be great negotiators, entrepreneurs and social influencers. They also know how to handle people embodying nessus qualities like a troll or opposition hell bent on creating trouble. Hard aspect people will slowly learn to overcome their problems in communication with time and experience.

🪵 Mars opposite MC screams suppressed anger. The thick tension between their anger and self-image is unbelievable. They don't like to get angry in public. They often gulp down their anger to the last extent because they don't want their reputation to get spoiled because of it. Sometimes its automatic they wanna get angry at someone but end up swallowing it anyway. But please don't test their patience. They might just explode unexpected at any time like a nuclear bomb and destroy everything within their range, not caring about their public image whatsoever.

🛖 Lilith in first house/Conjuct Ascendant are the infamous bad examples of the family while Lilith opposite Ascendant are the good examples with secrets darker than nightsky- always holding their sanity with a single string. Ironically, both are siblings, two sides of the same coin.

🪵 Remember, in one of my posts, I said that I don't relate with Aquarius rising and their unique fashion sense? Well, guys, I finally cracked the mystery! It's not our fashion sense that's unique. It's us. We are the aliens. Ok, that was a bad joke. But really, for example, a few months back, I wore a very pretty dress at my cousin's wedding. And istg people were looking at me like I was an alien, like I wore something totally out of the blue. As if It was not something improper or overdressed but very different than what everyone was wearing, which, of course, was not the case.

Now the funny thing is, if it was someone else wearing the same dress, I don't think anyone would've said anything about it. And voila! It happened. A few days back, I attended a family function, and I saw a girl wearing the same dress in different color and design. And fr nobody uttered a word. Those same people overlooked her as if it was totally normal. As if they didn't just make me talk of the town for a whole week because of that dress. So yeah, finally figured out, it's me, I am the problem.

🛖 Its not always true when they say Earth Mars people are calm and collected. I mean they are but suppose you have a virgo mars but you also have a Leo or Aries or Sagittarius stelium, your Virgo mars will be crying in the corner while that fire stellium will create a havoc and burn down the whole world in matter of some seconds.

🪵 North node in 11th house people are so likable. They are that one friend who knows the entire school and vice versa. So many connections and so many new friends. They just keep making connections left and right no matter where they go. People like to be in their contact. This gives me 'popular girl' vibe.

🛖 You sneaky little thing, you think no one knows how much you love reading smut? Yeah you, I am talking to you, Scorpio Jupiter/3rd house. Look me in the eye, I dare you to deny this.

🪵 Mercury conjuct Mars.... man, they literally spit fire when they talk. Can't win any argument against them. Ngl, I told my friend that I would leave her if she doesn't keep her hands off me special mention to her love language that is playfully hitting me at any possible situation. She just laughed and said, "Go, nobody would take you." Me: Cries silently. Her: I know baby truth hurts. Lemme give you a hug.

🛖 If you have no positive aspect to sun in your natal chart, it might be possible that people don't like your personality much. They think you are too egoistical or full of yourself. They might also backbitch about you a lot. Now this is just what I have observed so far. So it may not reasonate with everyone.

🪵 People with Sun conjuct Ascendant make very great leaders. They have a king/queen Aura surrounding them. And when they speak or share their opinion, people actually listen and take them seriously. When they walk in a room, they make sure everyone knows who has the authority.

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v1x3n · 2 months

Text

♡ "a date?"

john price x reader ┃ navigation┃ bimbo masterlist ୨୧ tags : fluff, suggestive

You find yourself strolling down a long path, soon entering one of your favourite cafes. A cute little cat cafe, you plop yourself down on a comfy seat whilst scrolling down on your phone. Well more specifically tinder, you wanted to find a boyfriend and a nice one at least. No more silly fuck boys that only want sex. You are really fucking fit but you still wanted love not just lust. A white and grey cat came and sat next to you, he shoved his head to your thigh which made you look down at him. “Ah! kandy! “ you yelp out in awe. You stroke the cat and put her down onto your lap, playing with her fur as you continue your previous acts.

Some men there were just.. Not your type, men in tracksuits and whose hobbies are drugs are just not your thing. That's when you come across a familiar person. He was tall, he said on there he was 6 foot, he was also very built. His little description was ‘mates told me it's a good idea so here i am’

His beard was making you feel some things, total dilf vibes, you almost got wet just thinking about him like that. You instantly swiped yes on him, then a notification popped up saying he had added you back.

‘Hi dear, sorry if i'm wrong but are you the same little girl from kyle garricks party last weekend? X’

Holy shit! That's where you remember him from! He was Kyle's strange yet sweet boss!

‘Omg! Are you the boss one?’

‘captain , but yeah x’

You slightly giggled and stopped petting kandy again. ‘Didn't think you were single, love x’ he sent another text just a minute later.

‘How's that?’

‘far too pretty to be single x’ he made your feet kick under the table, which made your fluffy cat run off. “awe “ you pout at the kitty.

‘Awh, you're sweet! You in the area?’

He answered yes, and you two decided to meet up right here at the cat cafe! It was kind of quick but you had met him before and he was friends with Kyle so you knew he wouldn't be some freak. So why not? Lifes is only short.

—★!

He rocks up with a opened buttoned up shirt and blackish trousers, he looks almost too fucking fancy to be here. You giggle slightly at him which makes his eyebrows furrow towards you. John scoots closer to you whilst smiling brightly, “hello love” his familiar voice brung a small glint of happiness to you. He sits in front of you and moves his head around to look at the inside of the cafe. “The cats are cute” he then looks towards you and takes in your outfit. A fluffy tracksuit, the jacket cropped so it's showing a little of your stomach whilst the bottoms are a little baggy. You smile up at him and nod. “You come here often?” you look away from him and your face lights up, “yeah! Almost everyday” he was nice.

You grab the menu and pass the other one to John, “I'll pay” you gleam once more at him. He had noticed that you were in a very hyper mood, giggly and bubbly. Or maybe you were always like this? “No need sweetie, I can.”

“You sure? I- i have money” you look up at him, almost pouting. “What you having love?” glancing at the menu and you pick out your usual, “vanilla cream” he does this weird yet cute beaver smile at you. Then he picks himself up and goes to order.

Soon he comes back with your drink and a coffee, he sets them down then walks off again. Your eyebrows pull up a little as you wonder where he's off too, he wanders to you again with two chocolate chip cookies in his hand. “Hope you like these” he plops himself down and hands you one of the cookies. “Aww thanks!!” giggles sound from you and he sips on his cup of coffee. You look over at him then down at your order, as you two sit in comfortable silence and drink your cups a small kitten hops along to you both and twirls itself around johns ankle. “Who's this little one?” he glances down at the small kitty, you do the same and then give your hand to the cat. He swirls around his ankle one more then jumps at your hand, playfully hitting it. “This one's charlie.”

“You know all their names?” he chuckles softly as you nod. “There's kandy, luna, lottie, bean, nova and charlie”

—★!

“Out the helicopter?” you squeal and laugh as you and John walk down a long path down to your house. “Yeah it was hard to stay serious after” he chuckles, he looks down whilst seeing the small glint of shine in your gorgeous eyes.

John's eyes stay connected with the pavement and he sighs softly at you, the eyes that had been looking forward trail along to look at him. And maybe or maybe not then you check him out… his strong, buff arms with his small waist fit perfectly with his bulky thighs. “We… we should do this again!” you smile at him, his eyes move towards yours - connecting eyes and maintaining eye contact with him whilst he chuckles at you trying to not squirm away and blush. He nods and follows it up with, “you like movies?”

As you nod he takes a left, you do too, “then we should go see something hm? Or we could at my house or yours?” You quickly gaze up at him, giggling as you almost purr, “we should at my house!!” John looks in your direction, he does a singular nod then you stop.

“Well this is my house” mumbling through your teeth like you were nervous.

“Goodbye sweetheart” he smiles strongly and bends over to kiss your forehead. You giggle once more. Your heart beats fast as butterflies grow powerful in your stomach, bashing into eachother with how fucking fast they were moving around. Before he leaves you grab onto the end of his shirt, he spins around and his eyebrows look quizzical. “Wait.. I have a question!”

“Was this a date?” your head tilts at him as he smiles, he laughs slightly and then sighs. John nods whilst chuckling and pets your head gently, “if you'd like it to be.”

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rodolfoparras · 6 months

Note

Don't mind me just imaging old man price and unconsciously caressing his happy trail while cuddling watching TV 😖

Okay but imagine this…

Old man Price sprawled out on the couch wearing nothing but a pair of ratty sweats he’s stolen from you, watching whatever show is playing on the tv that he’s not really paying attention to.

He momentarily pauses his show to look at the clock hanging on the wall, noticing there isn’t much time left til you’re back home again.

Sometimes Price hated being retired and longed for the days where the two of you would be out together on the field, working and enjoying each other’s company.

However he couldn’t deny the fact that he enjoyed the comfort of being in your shared home, wrapped up in your blankets and wearing your clothes that still smelled of cologne while watching his shows and hearing the rain enviously tapping on his window.

The sheer thought of it has a contented sigh escaping his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he sink further into the cushion beneath him.

All that’s missing is for you to crawl up by his side, insisting that two full grown adults can fit perfectly on the very small couch, a back and forth argument that would only result in pecks being placed on his lips, as your eager hands touch all over his body.

While thinking about it, he starts moving his hand in lazy circles on his soft abdomen, in the same way you’d do it, with blunt nails lightly scratching at his skin and fingers tugging at the coarse hair dusted on his body. Although his hand feels nothing like yours, this little fantasy of his is enough to have blood pooling to the lower half of his body.

Without even realizing it, he spreads his legs, the blanket that’s been covering him carelessly falls to the floor and his fingers latch onto his nipples, tugging at taunting the sensitive numb, in the very same way your own fingers would do it.

A shaky breath escapes his lips, cock twitching in excitement and hips effortlessly buckling up in search of any sort of friction he could get.

If you’d been here you’d tease him more, make him beg and whine and whimper before you touched his cock but you aren’t here and he’s oh so eager to have a hand on him so he quickly shuffles down his (your) sweats and wraps a hand around his length.

His cock is warm and already fully hard, precum trickling down his knuckles. Despite his age you never fail to make him feel young again, playing his body like a flute even if you're not physically there.

He can't help but smile at the sheer thought of it but it quickly drops from his face as he starts languidly stroking himself.

“O-oh“ he moans out, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking up into his own touch.

He continues to indulge in his little fantasy, pretending you’re there on the couch with him, your body weight caging him in, the smell of you surrounding him and with your face smiling down at him. As he does so he feels himself increase his pace, slowly but surely inching closer to the edge.

“Please sir please” he hears himself say, desperately asking for you, to be here, to touch him, to make him see stars in the way only you can.

It doesn’t take much before he’s tipping over the edge, a string of curses tumbling past his lips as ropes of cum paint your sweats.

For a moment he’s so lost in bliss, eyes squeezed shut, hand still stroking his dick before he’s broken out of his trance by the sound of a familiar voice calling for him.

“Sweetheart what are you doing?” And as he opens his eyes he’s met with the familiar sight of you standing there in front of him, eyes swirling with desire while smiling down at him.

#I wrote this nd I was like yes feeling like myself again #it’s not perfect I’m just happy my brain is working again but I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻#alec answers #call of duty #also this is not part of the old man lore just a piece I wrote now that I’m feeling better 🫶🏻#john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #dom male reader #sub male character #x male reader #male reader #price x reader #price x male reader

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boozenboze · 1 year

Note

hello 😸 can your write 141 w male reader who’s usually big and cold and during training, trainees see how dangerous and mean he is but don’t know that w the team he’s a snuggly sleepy guy☹️

Cuddle Pile

Tf 141 x Male reader

Females She/Her She/They DNI

Looking good L/n!” A soilder yelled out as M/n stared down his opponent. One of the recruits decided he wanted to fight the biggest person on base. You may be thinking Ghost, but tou would be wrong. M/n was taller than Ghost and because he was one of the biggest people on the base, the recruit chose you.

Bad decision

“Get ready!” Soap yelled out while keeping his arm raised. M/n glare had gotten harder, which made the recruit nervous.

“Get set!” The next shout made M/n get bend down slightly, indicating that he was about to rush the recruit. The people watching already knew how this was about to end.

“Go!” Soap yelled out and with that M/n was gone. The male took a flash step before hooking the recruit in the ribs. The man could only gasp in shock when his body was lifted, then suddenly slammed onto the ground. M/n backed away, examining the man in case he actually got up.

The fight was over, as to be expected. The recruit had to go to the infirmary due to him gaining a broken a rib. M/n watched as he was carried to the infirmary and turned around to look at Soap with his sleepy eyes. He slowly walked up to him before wrapping his arms around the Scottish mans waist, sighing as he closed his eyes.

“Aye mate, you really wiped the floor with em.” Soap laughed as M/n pulled away. The male stared Soap down before leaving the area, wanting to go find Ghost.

“M/n can you let go.” Ghost groaned in annoyance as he tried to get out the mans hold. Ghost had been working on some paperwork and M/n dragged him out his office and into the living room where he was now laying on the Brits stomach. Being in the h/c haired males arms was a comforting feeling, so instead of continuing to try and get the male off of him he decided to relax.

M/n had woken up due to him being thirsty, so he got up and went to the kitchen. Upon walking into the kitchen, he ran into Gaz who hadn’t been paying much attention. You could imagine the look on his face when he felt arms wrapped around his waist. He would’ve gave the perpetrator a hit to the ribs if he hadn’t noticed the muscles on the mans arms.

“Hi Kyle...”M/n spoke tiredly as the brown skinned man blushed in response. Your voice was a bit deeper than usual due to you just waking up. Kyle took a sip of water out of the bottle he had, to which M/n gently took it out his hands and drank from it himself. M/n bent down and picked up Gaz by his thighs. The man let out a noise of disapproval as M/n brought him to where he and Ghost had been resting. Gaz grunted when M/n put all his weight onto him, but sighed in content after getting comfortable. Soap and Price who had came into the room a few minutes before watched the scene play out and Soap pouted. He wanted to be part of the cuddle pile, so he waltzed over to them and was about to lay over on Gaz until M/n stood up.

He had put Kyle to the side and retreated back to his room, and when he came back he had blankets and pillows. He threw them all to the floor before spreading them out and laying down. Gaz stood up and layed next to M/n, head on his chest as he huffed. Soap did the same thing, though he wrapped his arms around the bigger man.

Ghost had woken up and saw the small cuddle pile, so abruptly he joined in. He layed his head on the mans stomach as Soap looked down and smirked at him. The Brit rolled his eyes before shutting them, feeling more relaxed around the gentle giant known as M/n.

Price just left his office after scolding a recruit snd was now going to get some tea. After making his tea, he walked into the living room and almost tripped over Ghosts leg. He examined his team and sighed before sitting his tea down on a table. The captain then sat down next to M/n’s legs before resting his head on his thighs. This was about to be one of the best naps all of them have had in a while.

#male reader #cod x male reader #male y/n #lgbtq #mw2 x male reader #ghost x male reader #gaz x male reader #captain price x male reader #soap x male reader #gay

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spiderceo · 3 months

Text

− ⌗ vaudeville vows ⊹.∿

summary; in the middle of the night, an unwelcome guest makes an appearance at your piano. he brings you offers of fame and fortune for only the small price of your soul…

tags; gender-neutral reader, reader can sing and play piano, manipulation, alastor being unsettling, probs gonna be slow burn <3

word count; 1.9k

pairing; alastor x reader

a/n; ive never written for alastor before and this kind of character is outside my comfort zone. im hoping to make this into a multi-part story so let me know thoughts and such. reposts are greatly appreciated ^^

master post | part two

The piano that sat in your apartment was barely played anymore. Ever since you picked up more shifts at work to help pay your ever increasing bills, there wasn’t enough time in the day to play. You badly wanted to sit down and glide your fingers over the keys again, but every time you got home from work you were too tired. Today was just the same.

You had finally just gotten cozy in bed when you heard the sound of a singular key being pressed. That was enough to stir you and make you sit upright in bed. Your body froze in the darkness, brow furrowed, as your strained your ears to listen again. The silence was deafening all until you heard not just a note, but a chord being played.

Someone was in your home.

Your heart raced at the thought of someone breaking in. Adrenaline ran through your veins as your reached for your phone. The bright screen strained your eyes as you typed in the number for emergency services. Slipping carefully out of bed, you avoided all the floorboards you knew to be squeaky. Even the slightest of ruffles from your duvet sounded so loud in the dead of night.

You kept the emergency number on your screen, thumb poised to hit the call button the moment you were sure someone was there. Moving towards the living room, you could feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavily in the air. Anxiety crept up your neck as you reached the doorway and poked your head around it, expecting to see a murderer or a robber.

Instead, you were met with a surprising sight. There, sitting at your piano, was a figure cloaked in shadows, positioning their hands on the ivory keys. Then they began to play. The song you recognised was from your childhood. Your grandad had a vast collection of vintage vinyl records and this song appeared on one of them.

‘Ain’t Misbehavin’’ by Fats Waller.

You stood there mesmerised by the stranger’s skilful performance, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until the other instruments in the song began to play that you were truly dumbfounded. It sounded like they were coming from an old radio, just like the one your grandad also happened to own.

You were unsure of what to do. Call the police? The number was still pulled up on your phone. Confronting them might end up in you being attacked. But something about the music held you captive, it drew you closer a few steps. That was a mistake. One creak of your floorboards and the music was reduced to radio static. A glint of red shone through the dark as you stood there like a deer in headlights.

Piercing carmine eyes held your wide-eyed stare. They bore holes into you and you could have sworn you felt your skin burning. You didn’t so much as breathe as you waited for the shadowed figure to make their next move. The only light in the room came from the city beyond your curtains and the phone which was slowly slipping from your grasp. When it hit the floor, the stranger’s eye twitched before they turned around fully on the stool to look at you.

The lights in your apartment flickered on and you almost let out a scream at the sight of the creature posed at your piano. His wide uncanny grin held the sharpest teeth you had ever seen in your life. Just that alone was enough to make you want to turn in run. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Ah, it seems I have an audience,” the voice came out like it was filtered, playing through the same radio that the instruments were coming from before. “I hope you don’t mind the impromptu performance. Your piano was simply too tempting to resist!” the make voice sounded smooth but with an edge of menace to it.

Torn between fear and curiosity, you hesitated with your next move. He just sat there grinning at you with wide eyes as he waited for your response. The crackling of a radio filled the void as you considered your options. This creature was such a stark contrast to your home and yet here he was, sat playing your piano as though he belonged. It was disturbing to say the least.

“What do you want?” you managed to choke out, your voice sounding quieter than you intended.

The creature chuckled as though you were the most amusing thing he had seen in a while. It send a chill down your spine as he crossed his legs and continued to eye you up without a change in his expression. That ever-present smile twisted as he spoke once more.

“Oh, nothing much, my dear. Just a bit of entertainment to lighten my mood,” he moved his hands as he spoke, swirling his wrists dramatically. “After all, what harm could a little music do?” with a flourish, he stood from the stool snd began inspecting various things in your living room. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he looked through your bookshelf silently.

You felt like the odd thing out right now despite this being your home.

You watched the creature as he looked at you over his shoulder before dissipating into the shadows. It happened so fast that is you blinked, you would have missed it. As you stood there, a new feeling of unease settled in the room. The piano beckoned you to it, its keys whispering a siren’s song that promised you happiness.

With trembling hands, you approached the instrument, still feeling the presence of the creature’s lingering charm. You couldn’t place what he was and that somehow felt worse than actually knowing. Your mind was trying to come up with any rational explanation for what just happened to you, but every string of thought came back blank. You started to consider the impossible and the supernatural. A wendigo, perhaps? The small, twisting horns on his head certainly suggested that but he didn’t look like any of the usual depictions of the folklore anomaly. What about a demon?

A demon.

Oh god, what if you just let a demon into your home? You stared straight ahead at the piano with fear building inside you. Despite your current mood, your hands rose to rest on the keys. There was an undeniable allure to the piano, a yearning to finish the demon’s song and fill the room with music that had been silenced for too long.

Taking a deep breath, you tentatively placed your fingers on the correct chords and hesitantly pressed down. The sound was uncertain at first, rusty and unpracticed. As you continued to play, however, the rhythm of it all came back naturally. You really hoped your neighbours wouldn’t mind you playing in the middle of the night.

With each note, you felt more at ease. It was a rather good distraction from what had just happened to you. You had almost convinced yourself you were just seeing things. With how exhausted you had been recently, you just chalked it up to being sleepy. The worries you had faded away and were replaced with the joy your music brought. You forgot about the intruder, going to bed, your unpaid bills, and all the responsibilities waring you down. All that mattered was the music, a beacon of light cutting through the dark that was your life at the moment.

As the final notes rang out, you closed your eyes with a peaceful smile. Whatever may come, you knew the music would always be there as a source of solace in times of need.

“Impressive, my dear. It seems you have a great talent for music,” a voice crooned in your ear, it dripped with honeyed malice, “But imagine what you could achieve with a little…assistance.”

Your eyes snapped open as you pushed yourself backwards and put as much distance between you and the demon as possible. The piano stool was now lying sideways on the floor as you moved with urgency.

So you weren’t just seeing things because you were tired. There really was a demon in your home and he seemed pretty adamant on conversing with you. Despite his charming voice, you knew his words were not to be trusted. Not only had he broken into your home, he had played your beloved piano. And now he was trying to offer you something by the sounds of it. Classic demon stuff.

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, now happy with the distance you put between the two of you. The demon’s grin widened more than you thought was possible, more teeth visible than before. “I propose a deal,” he said, voice dripping with temptation. “I give you piano lessons, help hone your skills, and guide you on the path to fame and fortune. In exchange, when the time comes for you to depart this world and enter the depths of hell, your soul will belong to me.”

Your heart raced at the offer. The promise of fame and success would be tempting for almost anyone, but the thought of selling your soul to a demon made you reconsider. “Is it worth it?” you asked yourself but he obviously heard you.

“The pleasures of fame are beyond compare!” He exclaimed, arms gesturing widely. “It’s much better than that awful dead end job you have now, that’s for sure. Think of giving up your soul for this as a small price to pay for greatness.”

You didn’t know what drug he infused with his words, but they were seriously making you consider this. The thought of being a master pianist who was loved and admired by millions was a silly dream you had when you were a kid. Now it was a single hand shake away. It was almost too enticing to resist but deep down, you knew that no amount of fame was worth the cost of your soul.

With steely resolve, you met the demon’s eyes and shook your head. “I’ll pass.” you said firmly, your voice tinged with whatever confidence you had in you at that moment. Who knew what denying a demon his feed would do.

The entity’s eye twitched, a look of annoyance crossing his features. The grin he kept on his face turned tense as a glint of frustration passed through his glowing eyes. Suddenly, all those emotions were gone as he put on a bright persona again.

“Ah, well,” he dismissed casually, waving his hand as though the encounter never happened. “The offer still stands should you ever change your mind. Until then, I bid you adieu, my dear musician.”

With a flourish, the demon disappeared into the shadows. The light went with him and you were left to stand in the darkness. The only light was coming from your phone which still lay on the floor with the emergency services number on the dial pad.

You were truly alone with your thoughts now. The fading echoes of his proposal stuck with you. You turned back to the piano and glared through the dark to see a piece of paper sat against the music desk. At the top of the sheet, the name ‘Alastor’ was written in elegant cursive. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out that this was the demon’s name.

Judging by the way he left, you were certain that this would not be the last time you’d be seeing him.

part two

#alastor x reader #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #reader insert #vaudeville vows

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furiousgoldfish · 2 months

Text

If you're often wondering why do abusers do this to kids, and why they don't change their behaviour even when it's pointed out, I have a few insights to share.

I believe abuse is an easy way for people to get out of parenting their own kids, while still getting credit as if they're doing it. And even more, they get special privileges and resources that normal parents wouldn't try to get, because the price of them is too high for the children to pay.

For instance, in order to take care of a child, you have to deal with their development needs; meaning you need to be educated enough about human development to know why the child is acting the way they do, you need to know if they need guidance, support, boundaries, stability, schedules, or entertainment, fun, play-time, attention, comforting, more resources, more interaction. You also need to deal with their random behaviours, like children will sometimes get loud and careless, break stuff, cause damage, turn against you, get sick, get into bad moods, get sulky, throw tantrums, get stuck in bad groups of people or be predated upon, have trouble at school, wander off, develop mental illness, and as a parent, you are expected and required to be there for all of that, on top of regularly caring that they're well-fed, bathed, that they have fitting and functional clothing, that they're well socialized, and that their living condition is clean and functional enough for them to be happy and safe.

Now, if you're an abuser, and your child is struggling or giving you any of the random behaviours that annoy you, and you lash out at them, tell them nobody is ever going to love them, threaten to 'give them a reason to cry', yell at them until they get frozen in shock and pain, they're not going to come to you next time for help. In fact, it's unlikely they'll feel safe around you to exhibit half of their normal behaviour, instead they'll be sheepish and too scared they'll accidentally annoy you, so you won't have to hear about their day, their bad moods, their worries, their loudness, them making any trouble for you; in fact, your mental energy will be yours only and you will effectively not have to emotionally raise a child anymore, it will be just another human who is too scared of you to ask you to fulfill any of your parental duties.

What about when your child is sick? You know you have to care for your sick child. Except, you're an abuser, so to you this is a drain on your energy and you'd rather not have to deal with it, because a child to you is not a real person but an object that is in your way. So, you yell at your child that they got sick on purpose because they hate you, you tell them it because they did 'x' and 'y' (which they maybe did because you failed to watch out for them) and inform them that you will not be taking them to the hospital. Now your child will not expect any care while they're sick, and in fact, they'll be too scared to even come to you next time they're sick. Again, you got out of childcare and have all of your energy for yourself, at the expense of your child's health.

If you continually call your child a financial burden, ask them when they're going to pay rent, force them to work in order to deserve to eat and sleep at your house, complain about how 'money doesn't grow on trees', then your child will be too scared and ashamed to confess when their things are broken, clothes no longer fitting or torn, their shoes too small or breaking apart, their hygiene products at their end, or for anything they might like or want from the store. Now your child will try to make ends meet on their own, and you can financially save up and buy yourself what you like, and then buy the kid something when it's convenient for you, maybe for like a birthday present. Maybe at this point you are starting to see that if your child runs around looking very rugged, people are going to notice the visible lack of care, so you either make sure the kid does have some new-looking clothes, or, you tell the kid explicitly what they're allowed to wear outside, to not bring shame on you and the entire family, once again putting the responsibility on the child to look 'cared for', while you do almost absolutely nothing to make it a reality.

Now you're having a child who is, out of deep-seated fear of you, acting politely and socialized in company, giving you ever chance to pretend that you care for them daily, while you're effectively living as if you didn't have a child at all. But maybe that's not enough for you. Maybe, you also want to use that child to earn money as well; after all, they're scared of you and will do as you say. You can put them up to any kind of labour and call it 'chores', and tell them you're just 'teaching them work habits', while they're doing your part of household chores, heavy physical labour, maybe even your job, if they're good at it.

But maybe this is not the area where you need assistance, but you're looking for a free, non-judgmental therapist who will be on your side completely and never dare to call you out or confront you - and voila, this child is so desperate to make any sort of connection to you, they'll carefully listen to all of your woes and trauma, even when it's deeply inappropriate for them to hear it, and they'll of course, be on your side as you're the only person in the story they care about, so you can cry to them as much as you want and even encourage them to fix you, to run around looking for ways to cheer you up, make your life easier to you, influence other people to give you what you want. And if they ever dare to stand up to you or defy you, you can just snap at them and call them something that makes their blood freeze in shock and they'll back down and become even more obedient.

Neat, isn't it? Not only you don't need to parent this child anymore, but you can draw any kind of benefit out of them, groom them into any kind of behaviour, extract physical and emotional labour from them, take their anger out of them, control their life so it benefits you and not them, all while convincing them it's their duty to give it to you.

As a result, you will be untouched by the chore of parenting, and your child will grow into a terrified, deeply insecure, always wondering why they're not enough, never feeling good enough, neglected but not aware of it, hyper-independent, ashamed, desperate, unloved, depressed, traumatized, engulfed by grief and loneliness, never understanding why their own parent didn't want them, care-deprived adult. Because it's all that effort, all that responding to child's needs, all that attention and care and warmth and energy put into a child, that is necessary for them to have proof that they're a worthwhile human being, that they're not only alive to be filled with emptiness and serve others.

But that's also why the abusive parents will never stop what they're doing. The benefits they get by abuse far outweigh the cost (the cost being the well being of their child, to them cost is zero), so they will not suddenly become willing to do the job of parenting, after they've spent so much time successfully avoiding it, and only put the energy into gaslighting the child into believing this is normal.

This is also why they put so much effort into making the child dependent on them, and sabotaging the potential escape - they're benefiting from having that child around, they're actively extracting what ever they want from this young person that they barely have to cover the living cost for, who doesn't know or understand how many of their human rights are being violated. There's truly no easier way to isolate, trap, groom, brainwash and then control a person.

#benefits of abuse #child abuse #abusive parents #why abusers do it #what do abusers gain by abusing #psychological abuse #emotional abuse #why do they do that #why abusers abuse #benefits of abusive behaviour #consequences of abuse

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

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Hoping I haven’t missed the requests closing 🙏if so pls ignore!

I’m humbly asking for a fluffy Gaz x reader and reader meeting price bc I’ll die on the hill of Price and Gaz having a father/son relationship. And Gaz being so nervous on what price thinks? Brownie points if Price teases him! I love Gaz sm and I wanna smooch him on the forehead!!

Shaky Fingers

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: The perfect date night begins with a stolen wallet and a goose chase.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: None, just fluff

A/N: Switched some stuff around so it's more of the 141 as a whole, but it's still pretty much the same, enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You think Gaz was about ready to call the whole night off.

Laughing, you shake your head and walk over to Kyle after flattening out your dress with fast hands. The apartment bedroom was ripe with the scent of cologne and perfume; the floor lamp was on and you had just finished placing a luxurious necklace over your neck. The twinkling stone blinks like a white eye in the low light.

“Dear,” you chuckle deeply to your boyfriend of three years as his head is in his hands. Gaz sits on the bed, dejected. “It’s alright, I can pay for supper—it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Bloody thing,” He groans, his tux wrinkled from the frantic patting he’d done to his pockets a few minutes prior. “I swear, Love, it was right in my pocket near noon!”

“Kyle,” stopping in front of him, you grab at his wrists, peeling his hands away from his handsome face. Grumpy eyes lock on yours but soften as you send an easy, reassuring, smile his way; the lines on his forehead fall from a harsh line to a squiggly suggestion on the page that is his face. He sighs. “It’s okay.”

Chuffing at the absurdity, your tone is a bit teasing.

“You’re acting like I don’t have a job, too,” Kyle grumbles at this, and his oval face shifts in a play of exaggerated exasperation.

“I’m not making you pay for our anniversary dinner, I’d never be able to sleep at night.” He says, and he captures your hands in his own, holding them together and bringing them to his lips for a delicate kiss. You tilt your head and watch, face heating.

“So you can run into active warzones and get covered in all sorts of fluids but you can’t handle letting your girlfriend pay for food? Kyle, you sound ridiculous.” Leaning forward, you lay a smooch on his forehead and feel his body jerk out chuckles.

“Never said I didn’t like the idea,” Brown eyes lower in a small jab. A joke making his lips pull up in a smirk. “It’s called being a gentleman, Love.”

“A gentleman that loses his wallet, apparently. Not very soldier-like, Sergeant Garrick.” Your eyelids crinkle as you grin, firing back just as fast as Gaz blinks, brought back to the dilemma that was pushing back your departure for the restaurant down in the city. A pointedly expensive restaurant.

“It was right on me! I swear, this has never happened before.”

You shrug, straightening up to full height and tugging at Kyle’s dress shirt; prompting him to stand up so you can straighten his tie. He does so without complaint, and your fingers spread over fine silk.

“I’m gutted. We can’t go until I find it. I’m not even that worried about my money—it’s my damn ID that’s draggin’ me by the arse.” You glance up at him, humming, before pulling at the neck of his shirt and setting the tie comfortably under. Kyle’s grip goes to rest on your waist and you slightly melt into his chest more.

“Base ID?” Your voice mutters out in question.

“Yeah, that’s the bloody one. Price’ll kill me if he finds I’ve lost it. Fuckin’ hell.” Sighing deeply, you sag into him, your chin going to rest on his collarbone so you can look up at him with a tiny glimmer of understanding.

Gaz’s jaw was tight with worry, brows drawn in and those two tiny scars on his left cheek pulled stiff. His stubble brushed your nose as he angled his head down to stare into your eyes when your grip traveled to wrap around his waist loosely. He huffs and kisses your nose bridge.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I’m ruining the night with all this talk. We should be out already, shouldn’t we?” You’re already frowning at him, pinching his side as he grunts in surprise and stifles a boyish laugh.

“Quit that,” you say, “this is just as important. Do you remember where you last put it?”

You’d never been to Kyle’s work before—that is, the military base where he’s stationed at. He doesn’t really have a workplace per se, just a temporary office and barracks room if he needed it. The Sergeant is off across the world more often than not.

“I haven’t got a clue,” Kyle’s voice goes low but his chest rises with gratification at the genuine care you show to him over something as silly as this. Heat rises to his cheeks when your fingers run back and forth over his back—his own hands tighten around you, keeping you close. “I knew I had it at lunch. I went out and got you those flowers from that floral shop that you like—I had to use my ID to get back on Base.”

Those very flowers were sitting in a vase on your vanity, bright and vibrant. You’d swooned when Kyle had gotten back to the apartment with them.

“Alright,” your eyes stare off into your boyfriend’s brown orbs, focussing deeply. Gaz sees your nose scrunch in thought and he smiles widely, chuckling and lightly beginning to sway the two of you back and forth to unseen music. “Lunch,” you mutter, barely noticing.

“Don’t strain yourself, now,” Kyle teases.

“Hush,” Scolding, you fake a scowl and feel him rest his forehead on yours. His hair tickles your flesh and you giggle. Heart pounding, Gaz listens to you speak as if caught in a trap of his own making, gaze exceptionally soft and breathing secondary to the way your mouth curls into a smile; how your beauty ensnares him in your otherworldly glow. “Anything else, Dear?”

“Hm,” Blinking out of his love-struck gaze, Kyle thinks deeply—straining his mind. A memory sparks and a flame burns in his gut. His expression flips as the air sparks. “MacTavish…oh, that fucker’s dead.”

You make a noise of confusion as Gaz starts rambling, pulling back from you and beelining for the keys on the nightside table. Face open and soft with shock, you stutter a small laugh when the man darts back and grabs you by the shoulders; angling you to the bedroom door and to the foyer.

“Gaz?” You chuckle endearingly at his annoyed face, his lips pulled tight, and his eyes narrow on nothing as he releases you. He bends down and snatches your heels, turning and bending a knee with a groan.

“Bastard. I knew he would get to me eventually, Love, it was only a matter of time.”

“‘Get to you?’” Amusement makes you place a hand over your lips before a loud snort can escape your lungs. “Kyle, what are you on about?”

His nimble fingers loop the buckle of the heels over your ankle, pulling to a comfortable tightness as he cradles your calf. Brown eyes glance up at you with deep seriousness.

“Soap…I told you about him, yeah?” you nod and carefully place your foot back down; letting Gaz pick up the other and slip your foot into the expensive material. The smile never leaves your face as the calloused hands scrape your flesh. Kyle huffs out a scoff. “He’s been pulling all of our legs for weeks—got to some of the recruits first but it bled over to One-Four-One. Didn’t think he’d fuck with me so soon; would have prepared otherwise.”

“The Scottish one?” You stand fully on your two feet and grab your coat from the hook and slip it over your shoulders, glancing at Gaz as he puts on his own shoes. You go over and kiss the top of his head in thanks for the assistance with your own. “So you were pranked?”

“When he bumped into me,” your boyfriend explains, and you’re being carefully corralled out the door with your arm resting in the crook of his elbow; you grip the nice fabric of his suit and listen with rapt attention and a toothy smile. “I thought he’d just wanted to hurry on to the pub—I didn’t think much of his grab at my waist as anything more than to keep him steady. Mate stole my fucking wallet.”

He says it so aghast that you giggle and see him blink, expression turning cheeky.

“What?” Gaz looks over at you with a raised brow and a smirk. “Look at that beautiful smile—you think this is funny, Love? You are just wicked, you are.”

“I think it’s hilarious,” your body leans into his heavily; pulling his body heat into yours and making you all toasty as you gaze at him with love. “Are we going on a mission, Sergeant?”

Gaz stares with a vast haze of affection and pleasure, “Damn right we are.” An arm wraps around your waist and squeezes your flesh—your face goes warm. “We’re trackin’ down a shit-faced Scot on our anniversary. Bloody brilliant if you ask me. You have my six?”

“Well,” you sigh with enjoyment, not at all angry or annoyed at the strained dinner reservation. Brown eyes crinkle at you. “It’ll be good to finally meet who you work with.” Your lips widen, “I’d be honored.”

“Christ, let’s just hope he has it on him.”

—

Gaz huffs as he pushes open the front door to the pub, and you take in the scent of tobacco and alcohol. With a muttered thanks to your boyfriend as he holds open the barrier for you, you slip inside and the smell only increases to a violent level. You blink around the old-style wood and decor, surprised with how much you enjoy the drunken cheeks and dim light atmosphere. Like a wave that goes in and out, your ears ring from music playing out a jukebox in the far corner.

“This way, then,” Kyle sighs loudly, and you see his eyes have already locked into three men at the bar top. A loud roar of laughter accompanies the both of you as you head over to who you assumed were his coworkers.

You glance down at your expensive attire and then at Gaz’s and stifle a loud laugh at the stares you’re getting. The two of you are comically overdressed.

“MacTavish!” Your boyfriend calls eyes exasperated if not a bit annoyed. When all of the individuals at the bar turn to look at the two of you. “Want to explain why my wallet’s not in my fucking pant pocket right now?”

You figure out who he’s talking to when the man with a strong face and a mohawk bursts out into chest-jerking laughter after a second of pure silence. His pale hands slap the table where his multiple empty shot glasses rattle against one another.

“Oh, hell,” yep, Scottish. Gaz glowers next to you with a stiff frown until you elbow his side. He glances down and rolls his eyes as you chuckle—his arm going over your shoulders.

“Fuckin’ not again—What’s he done?” The gravel in the bearded man’s tone took you aback for a moment, such a low and grating voice laced with a firm authority. A black beanie was on top of his brown hair, and tiny orbs colored like the sea turned to stare.

They blink in slight surprise when they find you, curiously shifting the lines present.

“Johnny, what the fuck?” A shrouded man grumbles, a face mask sitting comfortably over most of his expression and a hood up over his head. Blueish-gray eyes blink in your direction before their numbness shifts back to the wheezing Scot.

“Ah, Christ, I’m sorry,” Johnny gasps, clearly drunk by the flush to his skin. You spare a look with Gaz and can’t help the amused twitch of your brow. “Didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give it back to ya!”

“Stole my bloody wallet is what he’s done,” Kyle mutters to the man with a beard, who you assumed to be his Captain only by the atmosphere surrounding him. “We’re late for dinner.”

“Kyle, I told you it’s alright,” your hand goes to pinch his cheek before his face heats up so much you feel it from your fingers. Eyes shifting, you address the three with a smile. “Such a worrier this one,” you huff and introduce yourself by name, “...it’s a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all ours, Sweetheart,” the Captain grunts, raising his nearly empty glass into the air in greeting. “Good to finally put a face to a name. John Price. John’s all well and good.” He motions to the masked man. “Ghost.”

You send a nod and a grin the large and intimidating Brit’s way. All he does is stare before blinking slowly.

“Soap,” Kyle levels, shifting away from you and walking closer to the Scot with a loosely motioning hand, “C’mon, Mate, you’re piss-faced—hand it over.”

“Does he always do this?” You ask easily to Price and Ghost as the other two go at it like teens.

John shares an amused glance with you and grunts out a low chuckle. “Not always, told him to tone it down ‘fore he gets Disciplinary.”

Ghost huffs in agreement, scratching at his arm.

“Like tellin’ a fuckin’ dog not to go after a bone.” You snort, looking back at your boyfriend as he begins patting down a limp and slurring Soap like airport security.

“Seems you two have got your hands full. I know Kyle isn’t above poking fun, either.”

“Waitin’ for them to burn each other out, Love,” John utters, and you share a cheeky smile with him.

You enjoyed how easy it was to converse with the man—especially the one that was in charge of your boyfriend while he was away. It puts you at ease to finally meet all of them... no matter how shit-faced.

“Aha!” Gaz’s form rips out the body of his leather wallet with a shout of victory. Soap grumbles, rubbing at his face with the heel of his palm.

“If I’d known you were takin’ your bonnie girl out I’d have taken your tags instead.”

“Well look at that, so considerate,” Kyle chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re demented, Mate.”

“Ah, that’s just the top of it, eh?” You chuckle at the Scot’s comment, pulling out your phone from your jacket pocket and checking the time.

“Can we still make it?” Kyle asks, jogging back up to you as you click your tongue; turning the screen and showing him with a smirk.

“Think they’ll forgive a fifteen-minute absence?” Your boyfriend slowly deflates and your face softens at the sight of his sagging shoulders. John sighs long at his seat and stands; slapping a hand on Kyle’s shoulder and lightly placing one on yours.

Gaz looks up at him in surprise.

“Well, that’s proper bad luck,” the Captain starts, face serious and tiny eyes narrowed, “say what, then, the two of you pick what you want and Soap’ll cover the cost for the night.” Ghost huffs a dull bark of a laugh from his seat. You’re not even sure Johnny heard it above him tipping back another shot.

You and Kyle share a glance before twin smirks form on both of your faces.

“Can…you do that, Sir?” Kyle asks, accusatory.

“What kind of a bloody question is that?” John grunts before staring at you. “Now, don’t think too hard about it, eh? MacTavish has been getting too bold—maybe losin’ a few bills’ll screw his head back straight.”

“I have no problem with it,” your eyes slide to your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow. “You?”

John chuckles and pats your shoulders, squeezing. “Knew she’d jump on it.”

Kyle laughs, making the most of the situation as he nods a few times—watching you with his eyes drowned with warmth and affection.

“I’m down.” You giggle excitedly and slip into one of the dirty bar seats next to Ghost, eagerly trying to get him into a conversation about drinks and good food available in your expensive dress and jacket.

Gaz stares after with a tiny smile, slipping his wallet into his pocket where it belongs.

“Proper Bird,” John mutters, glancing at his Sergeant, grunting as Kyle chuffs. “It’s good to have something like that to go back to. Make it last, then.”

“I don’t plan on messing this up, Boss,” Gaz’s cheeks go hot with embarrassment, but it’s telltale how his eyes never leave your frame for a single second. “Not on my life.”

“Good.” John nods his head, “Go on.”

Kyle sends him a thankful look and shuffles over to the empty seat next to yours; feeling you immensely snuggle up into his side and continue your mostly one-sided conversation with Ghost. Soap was still drinking down his beverages with loud comments every once and a while.

Gaz kisses the top of your head and waves over the bartender.

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