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taintedcigs · 1 year

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YOU'RE NOT SCARED, ARE YA?

wc: 4.1k+

pairing: ghost face!eddie munson x final girl!reader

warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! absolutely no minors!! p in v, dom/sub elements, dark!dom!eddie, naive and innocent!reader, final girl!reader, mean!eddie, fingering, kinda manipulation, slight dubcon, this is kinda dark so if this kind of stuff bothers u DO NOT READ!!, minor character death, dom!eddie, squirting (??), sub!reader, heavy/graphic smut, knife kink kind of, very brief choking kink, kind of a breeding kink??, praising, degradation (name-calling etc), mean!soft!eddie JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI!!!

summary: you were happy to be a survivor and finally ready to get back to your life after ghost face was caught, but was he actually caught?

authors note: okay so i watched scream 6 yesterday and i had to i just had to write ghost face!eddie !! NOo SCREAM 6 SPOILERS DON'T WORRY OFC !! this is for u wyv OMG hope u like it i kinda have doubts abt it but oh well!! also hope u enjoyed scream 6 omg @sleepy-wyvern the reader is very forgiving and just gives in im sorry for that okay ill write another darker one maybe later pls send me ur ghost face!eddie requests and help me indulge in this fantasy omg xo, em <3 line divider creds to @attxnt

The breeze from the window had you chilling up before you could realize. Your head popping in the direction of the window as your eyebrows furrowed, you never noticed that you had left a window open.

With a sigh you get up to close it, as it's already freezing inside, a creak on the floors causes your head to pop up again, more confused than ever, you look around.

The TV is faintly playing in the background, screams of a woman in the horror movie you are watching is pitching your ears as you hurry to turn the TV off, wanting to see what the noise is about.

As soon as you turn the TV off, you hear another creak, the sound is now familiar to you in an eery way, you feel uneasy as you tiptoe around the living room, looking around to see what is causing the noise.

You shake your head at your paranoid thoughts, it's probably just the noises an old house makes.

Huffing, you make your way into the kitchen, re-opening the fridge for the hundredth time that day as you wait for a meal to magically appear.

Another windy noise behind you catches your attention, you swiftly turn around. Nothing.

Then the loud rang of the phone causes you to jump.

The phone ringing isn't easing your worries, you know the Ghostface murderer who has been roaming around town, killing a bunch of teenagers in Hawkins was caught, but still, it didn't give you comfort as you saw the face of Jason Carver who was being arrested, he looked innocent —as innocent as he could look for someone who was an awful person.

You shake your thoughts as you realize you are being paranoid, the Ghostface killer is caught, you need to calm down, you remind yourself.

"Hello?" You answer the phone calmly, hoping that it's Eddie, ready for him to ease your worries.

"Hello," The distorted voice speaks at the end of the line.

"Yes?" You ask, curiously now, wanting to know who the caller is. You shake off the feeling that the distorted voice reminds you of the ghost face killer, you don't want to believe it.

"Who is this?" The voice asks, and you furrow your brows.

"Who are you trying to reach?" Your voice comes out small, you're still uneasy from the creaking noises and what had happened in town before the killer was caught.

"I don't know." The distorted voice sounds careless.

"You have the wrong number." You answer, any sort of phone call still gives you anxiety. "I'm hanging up" You almost huff, annoyed that it's not Eddie, just some random guy.

"Wait, don't hang up." The voice is soft now

"Why?" You reply, your eyes narrowing.

"Because I think you need to hear this." The voice is mysterious.

"Hear what?" You ask, confused.

"They got the wrong guy." The voice is taunting, and the uneasy, chilling feeling from before is back.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" You ask, getting more uncomfortable, you look around, the paranoid feeling setting into your stomach once again.

You thought you had left the ghost face killer thing behind, happy that you survived.

"Jason Carver is innocent." The voice is more direct now, it sends shivers down your spine. "Well, he isn't innocent, but he sure isn't the ghostface killer." The voice chuckles.

"Who's this?" You ask, your voice getting shaky now.

“The question isn’t who am I, the question is, where am I?”

"Fuck you, asshole. This isn't funny." You spit, ready to hang up the phone.

"Oh, I'm sure you would beg me to."

"You know what-" Your words are quick to cut off as you are swayed by a mysterious figure, hooded hands cover your mouth as you attempt to scream and squirm.

"That's not going to do you any good, sweetheart." The distorted voice is enough to make you shaky again.

A scream dies out in your throat from the shock, you are left speechless and you feel almost paralyzed.

"Let me go." Your voice is muffled, tears are prickling your eyes.

"You want me to let you go?" The ghostface masked figure tilts its head to the side, you eye him curiously, nodding slowly.

"Don't you wanna know who I am?" The voice is taunting you again, and as much as you want to know, you don't want to give whoever it is the satisfaction.

"Let me go." Your voice is still muffled, a chuckle is heard from the other end.

"I think you know who I am, sweetheart." The voice is oh so familiar now, but you are still in denial as you shake your head.

"I- I don't." You manage to let out in your shocked state, the ghost masked figure chuckles, and the distorting voice is now going back to normal as you are finally hit with the realization.

The figure lets you go as he rips off the ghost face mask off his face, you first see the curls, those curls that you twirled your finger around as you laid in his bed, are now taunting you.

A grinning Eddie is revealed under the mask, you are now shaking as your face is contorted.

No words come out of your lips as you stare at him in shock, hoping for this to be his idea of a sick twisted joke.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" He is fully smirking, you are speechless, you can't believe that it was Eddie, your Eddie who had been behind the sick killings.

"Eds...?" Your words linger in the air, you feel small, so small.

"Yes, doll." The nickname should make you feel disgusted, you should feel disgusted. But you can't help but still be so enamored with him, you feel disgusted by yourself.

"What... why- How?" Your questions are spiraling, your eyes never leaving his, you want answers.

"It's... you?" You are dumbfounded, and the expression on Eddie's face is something you have never seen before.

"Yup." He's quick to let you know that he really is ghost face.

"I- I don't understand..." You are fighting your tears now, and Eddie walks closer to you to cup your face, still gentle, and you are too shocked to push him away, too comfortable with him that you let him.

"It's not that hard to understand, sweetheart." He chuckles almost, your eyebrows furrow. "Why?" You dare to ask, he clicks his tongue.

"It's simple really."

"You- you killed them, Eddie." Your voice is meek again, it's cracking as your tears freely escape your cheeks, he's quick to wipe them away. His other hand still holding onto the knife.

"Shhh, angel. There's no need to cry, they don't deserve your tears." He attempts to comfort you, but you squirm. "Don't be scared of me angel, 'm not gonna hurt you, I promise." He reassures, and you want to believe him, as much as you're scared, he's Eddie, your Eddie.

"Why- why did you kill them?" You manage to ask between your tears, Eddie's head tilts to the side.

"You're looking for a motive?" He asks. "How about the town "freak" is getting sick and tired of all those assholes calling him a "freak" and a "satanist", so he decides to finally show them how much of a freak he can be, how's that motive for you, hmm?" He taunts, the knife is still behind him, but you feel uneasy.

"Vicki, Tommy H., Carol, Tina..." You name every one of his victims, and it brings a smile to his face.

"I had to do it, sweetheart." His voice is calm and collected.

"Why... why..." You are still in shock.

"Oh, it's easy, sweetheart. Vicki, Carol and Tina were awful to you, d'you remember how they splashed you with their drinks, and laughed while you ran away sobbing, d'you remember that? Cause I never fucking forgot." His voice was harsh now, he was feeling the anger, the pain you had endured in their hands.

"Thought it was funny to humiliate my girl, make her feel bad, and they thought they could fucking get away with it? No chance." He hummed.

"Tommy H. was a fucking asshole, he got what was coming to him, no real loss there." He was talking about these people as if they were disposable, and you hated to admit he was right, you would probably never admit it out loud, but all of them were terrible people, destroying all the people they didn't deem to be "popular".

You look at him, still in shock, you don't know what to say, what to think, especially when Eddie is standing this close to you.

"And Jason?" You asked, your voice was less trembling now, what Eddie had done was horrible, but you didn't feel as scared anymore.

"Oh, he was easy to frame." He grinned. "I couldn't let him get away with fucking touching you at that party, princess." His hands were caressing your cheek now, and you gulped.

"I knew you tried to hide that from me, you knew how angry I would get, you didn't want me to get involved or hurt myself... Robin told me." His voice was more vulnerable now.

"But I'd do anything, fucking anything to protect you, princess. And I did. All of them, deserved what was fucking coming for them." His eyes squinted, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

"S'all good, now. You have me, to protect you, princess." His hands drooped down from your cheeks, as they traveled across your body, you couldn't help but get chills all over where he touched, you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying this, but you had waited so long, so long for him, and now he was actually giving you what you had waited so long for.

"Eds..." You get his attention.

"They tried to hurt what's mine, they tried to take my girl away from me." He murmured into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your face, and you can feel the smirk forming on his lips.

"But I've got you now, princess. No need to be afraid." His words were late to register in your head, the infamous ghost face killer was in front of you, his body is pressed against yours, and he was telling you all about his murders, and for some reason, you were still not screaming and running away.

"I- I can't." You squirmed, your eyes were getting teary again.

"C'mon, Y/N. No need to make this harder than it is." His hand raised the knife, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

"You- you killed them, Eddie." Your voice was shaking, you eyed his movements.

"You taunted me... with your calls." Your voice was shaky. "How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?" You gulped, trying to push him away, but he held you in place.

"Baby, I just had to warn you of them... they were supposed to be your friends, do you remember everytime you defended them to me, telling me that they were your friends and that I should be nice, hmm?" He asked, you were ashamed to nod, he was right, he had tried to warn you of them but he never listened.

"But they ditched you the moment you told them what Jason had tried to do to you, they humiliated you... you deserved so much better." His voice was calm as he attempted to comfort you with the knife still in his hand.

"I had to taunt you a little for not listening to me, but whatever I said to you wasn't bad." He reassured, you shook your head.

"But killing them was the only way?" You raised your voice this time, getting confidence from the way Eddie saw you as his soft spot.

"I was protecting you." His calm voice was more irritated now, his gaze landed on yours, and it was piercingly sharp.

"I- I didn't ask you to do that for me." Your voice was shaky, and Eddie tssked as he dragged the knife along your face, you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid.

He noticed your movements, and he was quick to drag the knife away, knowing it had scared you. "No need to be scared of me, princess." He still had that smirk on his face, but he was gentle now.

"Let me go or I'll scream." You demanded, but he just chuckled.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, angel." He hissed, but he let you go. And you look at him dumbfounded.

"Go on, then. Call the cops, tell them it was Eddie, your Eddie." His eyes narrowed as they watched you, you gulped. He knew where to hit you.

You didn't want him to be in trouble, even after everything, even after how you had tried to hate him in these last five minutes.

"I- I..." You stuttered, and Eddie chuckled.

"Do it, princess, turn me in." He taunted again, and it's like you were unable to move.

"Can't do it, can ya?" The taunting voice was back again. But he wasted no time as he pinned you against the wall this time, standing closer to you than he ever did.

"Knew you wanted me, as much as I wanted you princess." His voice was sultry, the knife that was supposed to scare you was now running against your clothes, and he felt you shiver under him, it makes him feel more in control, and he loved every second of it.

"Look how you squirm with just my touch, princess. I bet you're s'soaked under that tiny little skirt, aren't you?" He questioned, you squeezed your eyes shut, you hated how much you were enjoying this, and you felt disgusted with yourself.

"Let's see." His hands were cold as they landed on your thigh, riding up your skirt as you sucked in a breath.

His touch was so soft and demanding that as soon as his ringed fingers circled around your panties you let out a whimper, Eddie’s pants tightening at the sound.

“You really needed this, huh?” He whispered against your ear, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Look at you, squirming under my touch, holding out your pretty little whimpers from me, you want this as much as I do, sweetheart, don't lie to me."

The hand that was holding the knife grazed your thighs, the knife's coldness caused a gasp out of you, and Eddie smirked. "Such a slut." He almost chuckled, and you whimpered at the nickname, Eddie knew you like the back of his hand.

"You enjoying this, princess? You enjoy me making you squirm with the knife I killed the assholes that tried to hurt you?" He questioned darkly, you didn't want to answer, you felt ashamed.

Eddie's hand that circled your panties cut contact, and you gasped, your eyes opening, he cupped your face harshly. "Fucking answer me." You looked into his dark eyes, and you nodded, simply. You needed him.

"Words, need your words." His grip on your cheeks was harsh.

"Yes- yes! I- I need you!" You stuttered over your words but it was good enough for Eddie now as he smirked.

Eddie's rough and demanding demeanor, as well as his protectiveness, was sickly making your panties dampen, you hated to admit it.

His hands let go of your face as they returned to their place, and his finger easily slipped past your panties as they entered into you without warning, you whimpered loudly.

“S’fucking soaked for me, angel.” He purred against your ear, his hands gliding in and out of you easily as your whimpers were blissful to his ears.

The knife in his hand was still gliding your thighs, his lips harshly collided against yours as you were left out of breath.

“Eds…” The words slipped past your lips in a state pure of euphoria. He focused his one finger on your spot, causing you to almost scream out, as he pushed his other thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Look at you, doll…” He murmured.

“I haven’t even fucked you and you’re already dripping. Waiting to get fucked by me, my little slut” He chuckled as his fingers stretched you out, making you gasp.

You were captivated by him and willing to comply to all of his demands. You had been yearning for him to touch you, for you to feel him, for his cock to wreck you utterly.

"Need to get rid of these." He hummed as he swiftly used his knife to cut your panties, you gasped, as the air hit your cunt, whimpering.

"Need... need you." You couldn't take it anymore, you looked up at him doe-eyed, and he almost melted with your words.

"What do you need pretty girl?" He needed more from you.

“Need you between my thighs.” You whimper as he groaned at your words. “Need your cock.”

"Need your cock, inside of me, fillin' me all the way up." Your words are enough for him to quickly free himself from his pants and boxers.

He hissed as his angry red tip, oozing with pre-cum, faced you.

You licked your lips at the sight, spitting in your free hand and taking him in your hand hungrily, giving his cock a few strokes.

"Atta girl... but no fucking, teasin'" His hands were quick to swat yours away, you pouted.

He took the knife again, this time he freed you of your almost transparent blouse. He recognized that blouse immediately, he could almost always see your tits from them, enjoying the way they jumped up and down when he purposefully hit the curbs when you were inside his van. But now he wanted to see them, fully exposed.

The knife was quick to get rid of the tiny blouse. His eyes devoured your bare breasts flashing him, and he groaned at the sight.

The hand that was free of the knife played with your nipple as he latched onto it, hungrily, sucking, pulling and everything filthy he could possibly think of.

The other hand with the knife was still travelling across your stomach, and then getting closer to your other nipple. always grazing to give you a bit of pain, but a hell lot of pleasure.

"Please, Eds, please." You were begging now, and he loved it.

"Such a lil' slut... begging for me to fuck you, after I just told you I killed all those people..." He mocked, chuckling. You felt your cheeks flush with his words, you were ashamed, but he was far from wrong.

He still had your nipple in his mouth, kissing and nibbling.

"You were fucking made for me." He murmurs.

"This fucking cunt was made for me." He lets go of your nipple, now his hands give your clit a tight pinch.

Eddie lined his angry red tip to your entrance, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt, waiting to be ruined by him.

Without warning, he pinned you further against the wall and pushed himself inside of you, your cunt engulfed him almost instantly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was as if your cunt was made for him, gripping him nicely.

He groaned, your pussy was milking him as he felt nuzzled by your warmthness, he was in pure ecstacy, and he never wanted to let you go.

Your whimpers were getting so much louder now, and he never felt more proud. He growled against your ear and choked you out with his free hand, muzzling out your cries. He watched the way your tits rose up and down, enjoying the sight, making him sink lower into you.

"Look at you, fuck, princess. Takin' my cock so fuckin' well." He groaned.

"This tight fucking cunt was made for me. Made for me to fuckin' use, perfectly made just for me."

Eddie was sure he was in heaven as he rocked his hips roughly and deeper into you, splitting you open until he was sure you were stuffed with his cock.

“D’you know how long I wanted to this, princess?” He asks.

You shake your head, whimpering.

"Up." He demands as he taps your thighs, you oblige immediately wrapping your legs around him.

His thick thighs are pushing your legs wider, “I waited so fucking long to take you. To take this fucking cunt and make it mine, make you mine.”

“D'you know how much I wanted to stuff you with my cock, fill you to the brim till all that pretty little head of yours would be able to think would be my cock.” He growled, harshly gripping into you, your hands tugged on his hair guiding him to go faster.

"You wanted this as much as I do, doll. I can tell, I can tell by the way your sweet little cunt is milkin' my cock, lookin' so fuckin' pretty when you're s'fucked out." His voice was dark now, and being filled fully by him made you whimper once again. You nodded your head.

“S’stuffed with my cock that you can’t even speak, baby?” He asked, smirking. You nodded, needing more, you were moaning loudly now.

“Lookin’ so pretty beggin' for my cock, I knew you would love the idea of me killing for you, didn't you? You love the fact that I'd do any fucking thing for you” He purred, his hips pushing against you.

You knew it was wrong, what Eddie did was wrong, and you surely knew that him stretching you open with his cock right after he told you he was a murderer was wrong, but fuck, he just felt so damn good.

“Needed this so badly, needed to stuff this tight lil’cunt to the brim, show you who owns it.” He moaned loudly.

He was quick to slip out of you, and you gasped, he didn't give you any time to process anything as he plunged himself inside your walls in a glorious thrust once again, stretching you open once again, and making you scream out.

“Yours, yours, yours” You murmured, trying your best to adjust to his huge cock again.

Eddie eyed you as you squeezed your eyes shut again, your head fell back from pleasure, your pretty lips were shaped in an 'o' form, and he could tell you were getting close.

“F-fuck, baby. You're squeezing so tight around my cock. You gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked, groaning.

With both of his hands he was now holding onto your waist, the knife in his hands was dangerously close to your skin, grazing every once in a while, and he couldn't help but sickly smile as you had a terrified look in your face as it did so.

Eddie decided you looked so pretty when you couldn't decide if you were terrified of him or you wanted him inside of you forever.

He was pounding into you harder now, and you couldn't help but nod, you wanted to, you needed to cum.

"Needa cum..." You whined and Eddie's eyes glimmered with lust.

“Look at my lil' cockslut.” He purred.

“Cum for me, slut.”

"Cream my cock, sweetheart." He didn’t stop his movements as he roughly rutted his cock inside of you, your sweet cunt taking all of him as you released around him, gush of wetness pulsing out of you.

"Shit... shit... Look at you, f-fuck." He praised.

"Squirtin' all over my cock, f-fuck, made just for me."

Strained moans escaped your lips as the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with Eddie's groans were all that was filling the room.

"Your cunt gets so tight right after you cum, shit- shit." He moaned, his movements were animalistic now, he wasn't stopping.

"Don't think I can hold much anymore, sweetheart. Need to fill up your sweet fucking cunt." He cooed.

“Fuckin’ made for me. You’re mine and mine only.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you now.

“Gonna fill that tight lil' cunt so deep with my cum, sweets. Paint your walls white” He cooed. "Gonna dump my load so fuckin' deep inside you, you'll never get it out, sweetheart."

Eddie’s deep growls and his animalistic noises filled the room as he sheathed himself further into you before releasing his warm seeds within your waiting cunt, his hot cum quick to fill your insides, causing you to groan once again.

He let out a last groan as he slowly attempted to come down from his high. He felt ecstatic, his big smirk never leaving his face.

After he caught his breath, his cock growing soft inside of you, he sighed. Finally relaxed, he pulled out of you with a huge grin plastered onto his face as he looked down to admire his work.

His warm cum was leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs. He was quick to stuff back all of his cum that tried to leave your pretty glistening pussy.

"Mine." He murmured as he placed a sloppy kiss against your lips, taking you in his arms as he carried you to your bed, so you could have your well-deserved rest.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #ghostface!eddie #ghostface!eddie munson #stranger things imagine

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months

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The Final Quest

Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Requested by: @reader-bookling123: hiii I had a request for Luke where it kinda takes place in the past but he was dating reader and they were deeply in love but on their quest somehow reader sadly dies and Luke is just heartbroken and angry and he’s mad that everyone just moved on from her and maybe some cute reuniting moment

Summary: How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Warnings: Angst, major spoilers for series, graphic description of death, suicide (technically), anger, resentment, pain, fluffy ending, Dionysus and Apollo slander

Word count: 5.5K

Masterlist

Later A/N So I'm just now rereading Titan's Curse for the first time in like four years so I forgot that the Garden of Hesperides is west in the books. However, when I was researching the myth it was said to be some place north so I chose Canada. So that's why it doesn't reflect the book.

“Happy birthday, Luke,” my girlfriend smiled. Our lips were so close our noses were already touching. But just as I could feel the fleeting touch of her lips on mine, there was a flash of light, making her jump away from me in surprise. Looking over to the source of the light, I found my father standing three feet from us on the dock.

Neither of us had time to react before Hermes was speaking. “Hi Luke! Happy birthday. I have a gift for you.”

“Uh… th-thank you,” I tried to sound grateful but I was a little caught off guard and annoyed he ruined the moment.

“Oh, sorry!” he laughed, noticing my girlfriend who was still half in my lap. “How are you Y/N?”

“I- I’m well, Lord Hermes. How are you?” she asked nervously, awkwardly scooting away from me, moving her legs so their weight no longer rested on mine.

“Oh, no need with the Lord stuff. I may not be the god of prophecy but I am the god of gambling and I’m betting you two will get married. We’ll be family!”

“Father,” I tried to interrupt him as the embarrassment coursed through my veins, bringing heat up to my face. I didn’t even want to see Y/N’s reaction I was so nervous and embarrassed.

“Oh, right. Sorry kid. I forgot how much you teenagers hate sharing your feelings. But uh I’ve heard your prayers and offerings Luke and I have a quest for you.” My eyes widened. Finally. All my training would pay off. I could prove myself and go down in history as a hero. “I need you to get me the golden apples in Hesperides’ garden. Hera is getting a little too insufferable these days y’know?”

Y/N and I sent each other looks, our mouths open in hesitation. Our next words had to be careful. If we agreed to the wrong thing we’d be insulting Hera and I was sure she’d strike us down right here. She didn’t like demigods, to her we were an offense to marriage. Especially the ones that were a product of offense to her own marriage. “Thank you for the quest,” I carefully dodged his last comment.

“Of course, kid. Here, you’ll need this.” He snapped his fingers and in another blaze of heavenly light, a duffle bag appeared in his hands. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you back here when you bring me my apples,” he smiled, handing me the bag. “Uh, avert your eyes,” he warned. Waiting for us to cover our eyes, he disappeared in a golden spray of light.

When the world dimmed again I turned to Y/N. “Oh my god!” she yelled excitedly. She stood up, throwing her arms around me, almost knocking us both into the water. I laughed, hugging her tightly in return. “Luke, you’re gonna be a hero!” she gushed, pulling away so she could look at me.

“We’re gonna be heroes,” I assured her, placing a hand on her face. “Come with me,” I requested. My heart was thumping quickly in my chest out of excitement and nervousness. “We can be the Greek Bonnie and Clyde. Hundreds of years from now demigods will read our myths and say, ‘We can be like Y/N and Luke.’”

She looked at me, confused. “Luke, they were criminals and died tragically,” she laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay wrong analogy but you get the idea. Please, I can’t do this without you.” As much as I wanted my glory, I knew the Daughter of Apollo wanted it too. And I’d be damned if I couldn’t give it to her.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yes!” I cheered, hugging her so tightly I ended up lifting her off the wooden docks. She laughed as I began to spin, even almost spinning us into the cold water.

After talking to Chiron and getting my prophecy, Y/N and I were off in a car that Mr. D had somehow acquired. The only reason we were allowed to take it was because I was 17 and had a little driving experience from when I would take my mom’s car when she was too out of it to even get groceries. I shook off the thoughts as Y/N once again went through our supplies and plan. She seemed nervous even though I assured her numerous times we’d be fine.

“Drachma, cash, ambrosia, passports, drivers license, an enchanted map, and a bow and arrow,” she repeated the contents of the duffle bag. “The Garden of Hesperides is in northern Canada,” she mused, looking at the map. “Heracles defeated Ladon with a bow and arrow by piercing each head through the eye.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I assured, reaching across the center console to place a reassuring hand on her thigh. I left it there, rubbing calming circles on the skin of her leg with my thumb. “Heracles did it before…” I said, the words slowly dying as they came out. Heracles already did it. I tried to shake off the thought that I was just redoing a quest. They were so uncommon nowadays it was an honor to be chosen for one. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself to chase the doubt away. Besides, Heracles technically failed his quest, he didn’t bring them to Eurystheus. I would succeed in bringing them to the person who had requested them.

“What was the prophecy again?” she asked, still looking at the map.

I swallowed nervously. The prophecy was not optimistic for us. I couldn’t possibly imagine what we’d find out about each other on this trip that would cause us to lose our love for one another. “You shall go north to fruits, rare / Liar to liar, a father’s heir, / Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,” I repeated.

“‘You shall go north to fruits, rare,’” she repeated. “Obviously that means we’re going north to find the golden apples. “‘Liar to Liar, a father’s heir.’ Hermes is the god of lies. And I guess stealing makes you deceitful. Ergo, a liar… ‘Loves will be lost in Ladon’s lair,’” she repeated. I could hear the dread infiltrating her voice.

“Hey,” I interrupted her thinking with a squeeze to her thigh, “that could mean anything. Prophecies are just a guide. A starting point. It was so short and vague that we don’t even know if it’s talking about us. We’ll be fine,” I promised again.

“Yeah, of course,” came her voice. I glanced away from the road, finding a weak smile on her face.

“What kind of music does Dionysus have?” I asked, trying to change the subject. She opened the glove compartment, several things falling out of it.

She began to go through them. “Um, a concerning amount of Weird Al Yankovic.” I laughed as she continued to look through. She then gasped. “Oh my gods.” She held up something next to me that I took. I nearly slammed on the brakes as I glanced down at it.

I couldn’t stare at the CD in my hand too long so we wouldn’t crash but every time I glanced down at it I found a new horrifyingly wonderful detail on the album cover. It was Mr. D with the weirdest haircut I had ever seen. He was lying down on a cheetah print rug, his shirt was a zebra print and had the first several buttons undone so the viewer could see all of his glorious chest hair. That wasn’t even the most outrageous part. Mr. D was lying down next to a tiger with a gold chain around its neck. Hanging from the chain was presumably Mr. D’s stage name, “Dionomite” written in gold cursive and studded with diamonds. “We have to listen to this!”

“Already ahead of you,” she said, punching buttons on the dash. She took the CD from me and put it in. Once it was ready, our ears were immediately assaulted with the sound of various horn instruments being poorly played. “Did he play all the instruments himself?”

“Probably,” I answered as Mr. D’s voice came on. “Oh…” was all I could say as the squeaky singing made my eardrums bleed.

It was funny for a couple songs but then it just got annoying so we switched over to a single Beatles album.

We reached the Canadian border in only a couple hours. Thanks to the Mist we could drive as fast as we wanted without fear of mortal cops.

As we pulled up to the gate, the guard switched. Must have been a shift change. I thought nothing of it as I rolled down the window. “Passports?” the guard tiredly asked. His eyes were shielded by sunglasses despite the fact that he was under shade. I became wary but handed him the documents anyway. “Any plants, animals, dairy products, or drugs in the car?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“What’s the nature of your quest, demigods?” The customs officer removed his sunglasses, revealing a single eye. He then grew about three feet, revealing a cyclops.

“Hit the gas!” Y/N yelled beside me. I did, taking off. Now we had both a cyclops and the Canadian border police after us as I crashed through the plastic gate that went up and down. I swerved around guards and other cars, getting up on sidewalks and surely ruining the paint job.

But up ahead I could see them closing a heavy looking gate. Gods on our side or not we weren’t getting through that gate. So I swerved into the trees. “Hold on!” they were sparse enough that the car could fit in between the trees. Glancing in the mirror, I could no longer see border guards. But there was a 9 foot tall cyclops following us in the distance. Which would be fine, he’d never catch up to the car but the woods were getting thicker and now I didn’t know which way was the road.

Nature made its decision for me as I heard Y/N’s scream. “Luke look out!” But it was too late. A violent force stopped us and the car was suddenly still. There was so much force I was half afraid the cyclops had a friend but I just found a tree in the middle of the hood where the engine used to be. “Run!” I told my girlfriend, frantically unbuckling my seatbelt.

I ran to the other side, finding her struggling with the seatbelt. She threw the duffle bag at me before pulling out her knife and cutting the seatbelt away. When she hopped out, I took her hand. We ran further into the trees, the cyclops’ thunderous footsteps right behind us.

“Luke, we can’t run forever,” she breathed. She was right. We’d run out of energy before that thing did.

I thought for a moment, thinking of how we’d kill this thing. “At that big tree,” I pointed to a huge pine tree right in our path, “split up. Then we’ll circle back around and hit him from the side.” She nodded in understanding. We ran full speed at the tree until we each turned on the balls of our feet, dashing out of the cyclops’ path. The plan worked better than expected because he ran face first into the solid pine tree.

He crumpled to the ground, giving me time to retrieve my sword from the duffle bag. By the time I looked up, Y/N was already dancing around the beast, cutting him up with her knife. I jumped in, giving him the same treatment. We worked as a flawless team, striking and giving the other space as needed. Until finally, she cut the thing’s heels, forcing him to the ground. I took the opportunity to stab him in the eye, leaving behind only a pile of shimmery ichor.

When he was gone, I immediately pulled Y/N in my arms. Even at the relative safety of camp, I always needed her in my arms to calm down after battle. To assure myself that she was still there and I was still alive. The sound of her breath in my ear helped ground me. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, you?” Her face was still buried in my shoulder.

“Yeah. Sorry I crashed the car.” She chuckled, pulling away from me.

“You’re forgiven. C’mon, let’s go see what supplies we can save and start walking.”

While the car was unsalvageable, all of our stuff was fine. So we grabbed out backpacks full of winter clothes and started following the map. It wasn’t that bad now but it’d be cold by the time night fell so I forced Y/N to put on sweatpants over her shorts.

I was kind of hoping the map would take us to civilization where we could rest for the night but it just seemed to bring us deeper into the forest and we had no flashlight. As it got darker and colder I got more nervous. “We have to find some sort of shelter for tonight.”

“I know it’s dark but it’s not that-” A pack of wolves howling cut her off. “Okay, yeah,” she agreed. She began looking around. “Any chance you could climb one of these trees? I don’t really want to be on the ground.”

I shook my head. “Even if I could get up high enough I don’t think any of the branches would support us.”

She huffed. “Shelter it is, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the wolves,” I teased. She had just killed a literal cyclops but she was afraid of some dogs.

“Hey, I don’t mess with wolves,” she said sternly. “After I saw that one movie about the kids stuck on the ski lift. You wouldn’t catch me in the woods at night yet here we are.”

“What about Capture the Flag?” I asked as we started collecting stuff to make a shelter.

“Well that’s different. There’s like 30 of us out there.”

“Do you want me to start sticking with you during the games? You know, if a wolf wanders in?” I teased.

“I’ll make my own shelter for tonight, thank you very much,” she said matter o’ factly.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry,” I apologized, tugging her back to me as she tried to storm off to get supplies. “Besides, we need each other’s body heat to keep us warm,” I whispered teasingly.

“Not a chance out here,” she scolded me.

“Worth a try,” I shrugged. “Everyone knows you can better preserve body heat if you’re not wearing clothes.” She just gave me an exasperated look before walking off again. “I’m joking!” I yelled after her.

By the time we had the shelter built up only about an hour had passed. We used pine needles to try to protect out bodies from the cold ground. And we used our winter coats as a blanket since we zipped them together. We laid down in the shelter, still shivering despite our best efforts. I held her close as she curled up against my chest, her head tucked under my chin. “Get some sleep,” I told her. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Wake me in a few hours and I’ll take over.” I agreed with absolutely no intentions of waking her up. Judging by how fast her breathing evened out despite her constant shivers, she needed the sleep more than me. In the morning she’d yell at me for not waking her but it was worth it.

We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came across sled dogs. Ten siberian huskies all laying around patiently, harnessed to a sled. “Maybe these were the wolv-”

“Shut up,” she warned, giving me a light smack against the shoulder. I laughed as she hesitantly approached the dogs. “Hey guys, you waiting for someone?” She slowly reached her hand out to one of the dogs who calmly sniffed it before licking it eagerly. She gave him some scratches behind the ear in return. “Awe you’re such a good boy.” The dogs were now all up, wagging their tails and whining for pets.

I went up to the sled, finding a satchel tied to it. Opening it I found dog treats and a note. “All good huntresses need a pack of wolves.” Underneath it was a crescent moon. I clenched my jaw, recognizing the sender of the gift. Her aunt, Artemis. Last year, during the winter solstice, Artemis and her hunters had visited briefly. One of the hunters, Zoe, befriended Y/N. And even after she had told them she had a boyfriend, they still tried to recruit her. It never sat right with me, the way Artemis seemed so okay with breaking up a relationship.

“It’s for you,” I told Y/N, handing her the note. I handed her the note and she took it. She just sighed before stuffing it back into the satchel. “I don’t know why she’s so determined to recruit you.”

“I don’t know either,” she said, already tying our stuff to the sled. “But she’s gonna be disappointed because I’m kind of really into this one guy. I don’t know if you know him but he’s the son of Hermes. He’s gonna be a great Greek hero.” Her praise was enough for me to let go of my anger. Stooping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips.

The pack of sled dogs was perfect for the Canadian wilderness except for one problem. There was no snow. Still, they managed to pull us so smoothly it was like snow.

Soon enough, we pulled up to a garden. If it weren’t for the fact that they were literally in the middle of nowhere, this garden would be unassuming. It had a white picket fence and looked to be about an acre. Thousands of different types of plants grew, enchanting us with its smell. Off in the distance, in the middle of the garden, I could faintly see the golden fruits, the sun glinting off of them.

“The nymphs never gave Heracles a problem,” Y/N shrugged. I nodded, cautiously opening the gate, sword in hand. She held the bow up, an arrow already knocked. A quiver of them were slung over her back.

We crept in quietly, watching for signs of danger. She would watch our surroundings and made sure no nymphs attacked us while I kept an eye on the multi-headed dragon, making sure he didn’t stir.

Once we were about 20 feet away, he still wasn’t stirring. Y/N kneeled down behind some greenery, lining up her arrow. She took aim and fired. The arrow bounced harmlessly off one of the many scale covered head. The beast didn’t so much as stir. She looked back at me, as if seeking assurance. I nodded, telling her to try again. But rather than just take aim again, she crept a little closer. I almost told her to get back but I was afraid the dragon would wake up at my yelling. I held my breath, heart pounding as she tried again. This time she sunk it right through the eyelid but before either of us could react, another head moved. It snapped at her, jaws clenching around her waist. My blood turned to ice as I heard her pained scream. It was so horrifying to hear my body seemed to turn to lead.

I needed to save her. I forced my body into a run. I slashed at the neck that was currently holding my girlfriend in the air. Ladon dropped her, not without a claw slashing at me in turn. I managed to dodge it, scrambling over to Y/N. I wasn’t even comprehending whether or not she was conscious or if she was alive. I was too busy trying to tug her away. Golden fucking apples be damned.

I reached her, grabbing her by her shoulders and trying to tug her to safety. But before I could make much progress, the beast’s claw was in my face again. But I noticed it too late this time, too focused on my girlfriend’s very pale face. The claw hit me in the face, sweeping me to the side. I couldn’t feel the pain but I could see the blood seeping into my vision. I tried to wipe it away but it just kept coming. With my non-blinded eye I could see Ladon going back to his prior position as if we were nothing. Like he wasted no energy maiming us. Nonetheless, it allowed me to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her awake.

“Y/N, we need to go!” I said frantically, worried he’d come back for round two if we didn’t get out soon. “Can you walk?” I looked down at her body and knew the answer. Her shirt was covering the extent of her wounds but teeth marks, each a few inches across, tore through her shirt and there was blood. So much blood.

“With help,” she said in a strangled voice.

“Okay, good,” I nodded. Her assurance eased me slightly. I slung her arm across my shoulder before pulling her up. She screamed as I raised her off the ground but nevertheless gritted her teeth and bore it.

“No!” she cried as I tried to wrap my arm around her to support her weight. I realized that in doing so I’d be pressing into her wounds. She sobbed in pain the entire time we slowly stumbled out of the garden. It pained me to hear her cries but I had to get her out of here. If I could just get her to the sled I could give her some ambrosia and she’d be fine.

When I finally got her outside the gate, I laid her down. I’d get her onto our transportation once she wasn’t in such a critical condition. “Hold on, I’ll get you some ambrosia,” I told her, moving toward the sled. But the weakest tug held me back.

I looked down at her, finding blood, sweat, and tears covering her face. “No,” she cried. Tears were pouring down her face as sobs wracked her body. “Ambrosia won’t help.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I held her face. Oh, her beautiful face. My heart clenched seeing it twisted in agony. “You’re gonna be fine. I promised you. I’m not a liar…” Tears were falling down my face now. She’s not fine. I realized that I’d become an unknowing liar.

Her hand reached up to my face, her thumb swiping over my blood covered cheek. “You’re not a liar. We were doomed from the start.” She took a labored breath and deep inside, I knew it was the end for her.

“Come on, no. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,” I cried. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my lap. As if physically holding on to her would keep her from slipping through my fingers like the wind. “Just hold on until I can get you to a hospital.”

“We don’t have time.” A small smile tugged at her face and I knew she was smiling through the pain for my sake. “I love you, Luke. Promise me you’ll move on?”

“What? No. You know I won’t. You’re the love of my life,” I insisted.

“Please, at least try?” she asked. “I don’t want you following me too soon,” she tried to joke. But her laugh turned into pained sobs as the movement hurt her body.

I cried harder seeing her in so much pain. Her breathing was getting shallower and more labored. “Fine, I’ll try,” I swore. Lie. “I love you. So much.”

“I’ll see you in Elysium,” she said through a peaceful smile. It would be a welcome sight if it weren’t for the blood bubbling up out of her mouth. I turned her to the side slightly so she wouldn’t choke on it but it wasn’t enough. The blood was coming faster and her body was shutting down. “I love you,” she whispered before her eyes fluttered shut.

“No, wake up!” I cried, shaking her slightly. “Wake up!” Her breaths were getting shorter and I was getting more desperate. “Do something!” I yelled up at the sky. Her father. My father. Anyone! But no one came. Her wounds didn’t stitch themselves together and her eyes didn’t open. I held her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder long after she stopped breathing. Even the dogs started howling at the gods when her heart stopped beating.

~~~

“That’s why I hate the gods,” I murmured to Percy, watching the scorpion slowly creep up his leg. “They finally granted me a quest. It was all I ever wanted. But it was a joke. All my father wanted to do was piss off Hera and he was okay with using me and my girlfriend as collateral damage. And her father, Apollo,” the name came out of his mouth like venom, “the god of prophecy and healing let his daughter die. He knew she was going to die, even before the quest. And when he had the opportunity to save her, he ignored her.”

“I’m sorry she died but-”

“No!” I cut Percy off. “It would be one thing if she just died but she died over a fucking prank war. She died an agonizing death. Her aunt, Artemis, intervened in our quest but she still let her niece die a slow, painful death. They didn’t even help me bring her back to camp so she could be buried properly. I had to bury her in the woods like I had killed her and was covering up a crime.” I swiped away a tear as I noticed it slip down my face. I still couldn’t decide what was worse. Feeling her die in my arms or leaving her out there in the woods to rot. “And to make matters worse, no one seemed to care that she died. When I finally got back to camp a month later, they just pitied me. I begged Chiron to let me and some others go get her so we could give her a proper funeral but he refused. And when I tried to get others to join me to convince him, no one would go. After a couple days no one seemed to care that Y/N L/N was dead. A week later, another Apollo camper was claimed and they just gave her bunk away to him. Like she meant nothing.”

“But why Kronos? I’ve never heard of a demigod turning away from the gods. Even when horrible things happened.”

I sighed in contentment, remembering the projection he showed me. “Because he can bring her back. We’ll be immortal and without pain forever. He showed her to me. He said she’s happy in Elysium but she misses me,” I smiled softly. “But she misses camp too,” I laughed bitterly. “Annabeth, Grover, she probably would’ve missed you had you two met. But she never got the opportunity. But now, with Kronos, I’ll get to give her everything she wants.” I looked over at the kid. He seemed so deep in thought I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. “Goodbye Percy,” I said as I stood.

“I’ll tell everyone at camp about you!” he called after me.

“If you make it. Pit scorpion venom will kill you in 60 seconds. Even if you do make it, I’ll still be long gone.”

~~~

I sunk the blade into my Achilles heel, destroying Kronos’ life source inside me. I laughed as I could feel him leaving me. And continued to laugh as I fell to the ground and felt my own life draining out of me. Looking up, I found Annabeth above me, her curls hanging in my face. “I’m gonna see Y/N,” was all I said.

Tears welled in her eyes as I felt her comforting hand stroke my hair. “Yeah you are. I know how much you missed her.”

“I’ll see you there too,” I promised her, just like Y/N promised me.

I stood in front of the Judges of the Underworld. I knew I messed up in my life but my sacrifice had to amount to something. And I had to get to Elysium. “Luke Castellan,” Minos read my name. “You are charged with… starting a war against the gods?” he read in disbelief. “Why were you not immediately sentenced to the Fields of Punishment?” If I still had a heart it’d be in my feet right now. I couldn’t go to the Fields of Punishment. “You should have cut your losses and taken the express line to the Fields of Asphodel.”

“Keep reading,” Rhadamanthus said, not even looking up from the papers.

Minos rolled his eyes but kept going. “Oh, you sacrificed yourself, killing Kronos and saving Olympus and all of humanity. Hmm. Well, you did still start a war with the gods.”

Aeacus leaned over. “Minos, this really is more of a formality than anything. All the gods have already given him a pass.”

Minos huffed. “Fine,” he picked up a gold gavel, “Elysium!” he declared.

Before I could even thank him I was transported into what looked like the Apollo cabin. It was strange, I knew this was supposed to be the Apollo cabin but it didn’t have all the bunks. It looked like a normal house but something about it felt so familiar. I looked around, realizing I was standing in the living room. This must be Y/N’s house, it even smelled like her. Decorating the walls were pictures of her and her friends and siblings. But on the mantle and side tables were pictures of us. I picked one up, noticing the fingerprint markings all over it. She must pick it up a lot.

Looking around, I found glass French doors in the kitchen that led outside. The view was breathtaking. Mountains rose up on either side of the bluest lake I had ever seen. I went outside, intending to enjoy the view. As I stepped outside I could smell fresh air and feel a perfect breeze. “Hey stranger,” a voice came from beside me. I turned, immediately letting out a choked sob as I saw her sitting there. She stood, coming to me and I immediately snatched her into my arms. She shushed me, stroking my back as I sobbed in her shoulder. “You came way earlier than I wanted but I’m glad to see you.”

I pulled away so I could see her face. The blood, sweat, and tears were gone. It was just her beautiful, perfect face. “You’re actually here,” I said, reaching a hand up to her face. I was terrified she’d disappear again just like she did when Kronos showed her to me in my dreams.

“I’m here. And so are you,” she smiled. “We’ll be immortal and without pain forever,” she swore.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Luke.”

Decades later we were opening our door to see Percy and Annabeth standing there. “Y/N!” Annabeth cried, jumping into my wife’s arms.

“Hey Annabeth!” she laughed, clutching the woman in a hug.

I looked over to Percy, finding him with smile lines and salt and pepper hair. “Hey cuz,” I smiled, extending my hand. Percy shook it and pulled me into a hug which I returned. I patted him on the back as I pulled away. “You know you can look any age you want here? You don’t have to be an old man.”

“I’m not an old man,” he insisted. “I was 80. Just anything older than 16 year old me looks old to you.”

I shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. I turned to Annabeth, giving her a hug too.

Y/N took Percy’s hand. “Percy, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Everyone from camp whose already here has said great things.”

He smiled at her. “I’ve heard the same about you,” he returned, glancing at me. “Well we brought blue cake for dessert.”

Masterlist

A/N Omg this is quite possibly the angstiest thing I've ever written. But it also has one of my favorite endings. Thanks for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing it

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lightning theif #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #annabeth chase

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luveline · 6 months

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omg jade for a miguel x spider girl what if they’re spending the night together and she’s sleep talking and miguel is like ???? i sleep talk and it’s silly sometimes 😆

Miguel latches the door lock gently. Your snores echo in the silence of his apartment, huffing things that tell him you're laying on your back before he sees you. You've kicked the sheets down to the bottom of the bed, and your pyjama shorts are falling off of one hip and tucked too high on one leg, exposing the expanse of your thigh. Alarm clock light shines champagne on your skin and the graphic printed on your shirt, the super powered puppy dog you love so much barking one of his catchphrases: Chāojí wāngwāng!

He scrubs at his face. Things are rough lately. He hoped you'd be awake still to talk to, even if it was about nothing at all. He just wanted to hear your voice.

My own fault, he thinks, walking quietly to the dresser to change into his own pyjamas. They match yours. If anyone ever saw them he's not sure how he'd feel, but they were a necessary purchase at the time. You'd been morose about something, and matching made you happy.

Miguel changes and combs his hair haphazardly. He sprays some deodorant in want of a shower he's too tired for before he crosses back to the end of the bed, taking the blanket into his hands. He shakes it out over you, covering you once again. Then he rounds the bed and climbs in next to you, hooking his arm around you to drag you firmly into his side.

“Couldn't wait up for me?” he whispers, shifting to get comfortable in the mess of pillows you insisted on. You lift your head like you might kiss him, and for a selfish second he hopes you're awake, but then you breathe out another snore.

You're heavy when you sleep. He makes sure you're not about to suffocate on his chest and encourages your arm into a more comfortable position. Your chest half on his chest and side, your face in his neck, you look like a rom-com couple from one of your under the desk movies, but Miguel's far less comfortable. He'd wanted to be close to you, but he's wondering if he should've just spooned you.

“Miguel,” you say, your voice a croak in the dark.

He chuckles in surprise. “What?” he whispers.

You mumble. He brushes a hand up your face to draw your head back, thumb on your cheek. Your eyes stay closed.

What the…

“Hello?” he whispers.

You don't answer. Perhaps you'd woken for a split second and sensed him, or perhaps you're having a dream. You love to tell him about your dreams in the mornings, occasionally shaking him awake to tell him before you forget. He's always pissed to begin with, endeared by the end, pissed again when he sees the time.

He closes his eyes and decides he'll miss you by himself for a bit.

Your voice comes in a muffled squishing atop his chest, “It's his car.”

He blinks. “That so?”

“For the commute.” Your whispering turns intense, “He has to drive there, Miguel.”

Well, in whatever dream you're having, you're talking to him. He quite likes knowing that. “Where's he going, cariño?” he asks, picking the spot on your forehead a moment before he kisses it fondly.

You make this sound that he only ever hears when you're tired and he's touching you in ticklish places, a gurgle of a laugh as you nuzzle into his chest. “Stop…” you say playfully.

This is ridiculous.

Miguel's getting jealous of dream Miguel. Who does that guy think he is? You laugh, say something completely unintelligible, and jolt up hard enough to startle him.

“Ah!” you say, eyes finally opening, blinking down at him with a slowness that almost looks painful. “...Miguel?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“We were… uh…” You blink at him some more, your arm shaking with fatigue where you anchor yourself on the mattress. He slides a hand under your armpit to hold you up. “I think I was dreaming.”

“You were talking to me.”

“I was?” You lean down into your hand, rubbing your eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I'm just… that was so weird…” You seem strangely unsettled. Miguel helps you onto your back but keeps an arm behind you so he can hold you. You're content to be held, pushing one leg over the other, speaking into his chest. “You were tickling me.”

“Sorry,” he finds himself saying, giving you a pat. “I won't do it anymore, cariño. You can go back to sleep.”

“Thanks, Miguel,” you mumble.

He waits for you to doze off, but your heart seems to be beating too quickly. Maybe dream Miguel drove you both off a cliff. “You want me to kiss you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you mumble, tipping your head up.

He kisses your forehead. A long, slow press of the lips with no end in sight. Invigorated by your contended sigh, he kisses you again, again, these lazy gentle mouthings that barely count as kisses at all as he tugs the blanket up to cover your collar. You make a sound like a hiccup caught in your throat and before he knows it, you're sleeping again. You sleep soundly for the rest of the night, or he thinks so. He falls asleep not long after you with his lips still pressed to your forehead, so there's no way to know for sure.

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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

Text

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 4 🥀

Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Contestant Reader

Synopsis: You're on the show Singles in Paradise with former Bachelor!Miguel and other Spider-Verse favs dealing with another contestant's interest in Miguel making you jealous while you're doing your best to move on with someone new at the same time. Word count 5.7k 🖤 s/o to @migueloharasoulmate for the inspiration and ideas behind this chapter, ily.

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, FIGHTING, DRAMA, DANA IS MESSY, SEXUAL HARASSMENT: not too graphic (DANA DOESN'T UNDERSTAND CONSENT), MILD SMUT(BRIEF, MOSTLY SUGGESTIVE, JUST TOUCHING, DESCRIPTION OF ORAL SEX f receiving BUT NOT DETAILED), BETRAYAL, ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY (SORRY, IT'S ALL FOR THE DRAMA), DRUNKENNESS, ALCOHOL

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

That morning that Dana arrived

You desperately tried to divert your attention away from the sight of Dana and Miguel walking away together, arm in arm. You stood up, furiously trying to keep the tears that were building in your eyes at bay, pacing the room in a panicked circle until you decided to go find Felicia, cameraman in tow to your displeasure.

Dana was yapping Miguel's ear off as they sat down on some empty chairs by the pool. Miguel nodded his head, not letting a word she was saying funnel through, looking off occasionally to try and find you, when he finally spied you quickly across the resort, seeming to be in distress. His brow furrowed, craning his neck to try to see where you were running off to.

"Miggy?"

Miguel's eyes dart back to Dana and he clears his throat. "Sorry, go on..."

He tried to brush off his slight ick at her using his nickname. He didn't even know her like that. After all, she only lasted until week 3 on his season when woman after woman complained about her to him during their one-on- one times. His nickname sounded way better when you said it, anyway.

"I asked you on a date, silly!" Dana smiles waving the date card, batting her lashes.

Miguel manages a weak smile back at her. "I'm flattered...but to tell you the truth, I came here for someone else."

Dana's smile fades, trying to play off the fact that her ego was a little bruised. "Eheh...really?"

Miguel nods, looking down.

Dana tries to keep her tone sweet, but it's clear she's upset when she speaks again. "You're not still stuck on "what's-her-toes", are you?"

Miguel responds flatly, saying your name, a little defensive after the flippant way she referred to you. "I really am sorry, but it would be dishonest to us both if I went on that date with you..."

Miguel sees you on the beach, sitting on a towel next to Felicia, appearing to be crying.

"'Scuse me..." Miguel jogs away, leaving Dana fuming.

Felicia hugs you and you both rock back and forth together for a bit. "Dude...don't be upset. Seriously... let them have each other... You're SO much better than that. You're happy with Peter, right?"

You look at Felicia with a trembling lip.

"Noooo...you're not still...?"

"Ladies?"

You and Felicia jump, you turn and see that Miguel is standing above you both. You hide your face, desperately trying to fan yourself and hide evidence of your tears.

"Oh heyyyyyy, Miguel!" Felicia says nervously, trying to distract him. "Look, this is kind of a bad time."

Miguel isn't persuaded by the poor attempts to turn him away. He says your name softly. "Can we please go talk?"

You sigh and look up at him, abandoning your efforts to conceal yourself, letting him see your tear stained face in its entirety. "No thanks, I'd rather not."

"I said no to the date, alright?"

Felicia's eyebrows raise. You two look at each other. Your feminine high council of two unsure of what to make of this revelation.

Miguel's lips tug upwards a little, giving him that shy smile. "Please, can we go talk some more?"

You look at Felicia and she shrugs her shoulders as though she was trying to put the ball in your court.

You nod, standing up, turning down Miguel's offer to help you up as you shakily get on your feet. You look to see if Peter was around, but you couldn't spot him yet.

You and Miguel walk along the beach again, this time the sunlight hitting you directly and no alcohol in either of your systems. Both of you squint your eyes, raising your hands to try and shield yourselves from the intense glare of the sun, finding a shady spot further down the shore.

You do spy Peter in the distance. He's about to get on some jet skis with Ben. He gives you a shy nod and a wave. You wave back, giving him a smile, grateful he was far enough away to not see your sadness.

Miguel clicks his tongue out of nervous habit, unsure of how to start the conversation.

"So, you turned her down, huh?" You ask.

Miguel nods looking at you with his lips pressed together. "Yep..."

"Why?" Your tone a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.

Miguel blows air out of his nostrils shortly in amusement. "I saw the footage of her saying she wanted to fuck Gabe, so..." He looks down, shaking his head, then looking back at you. "I'd rather not be with someone who actually wants to bang my younger brother."

"Huh..." You exhale, deeply relieved.

Miguel nudges you playfully. "Were you jealous or something?"

"God-No!" You answer too quickly, scoffing.

Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

You nudge him back, but he barely moves, your comparatively smaller frame no match against his. He snickers in response. "Yes, really,...you smug bastard..." You say, shaking your head.

"C'mon, at least a little bit?" Miguel prods, his eyes a little more hopeful.

"I just think you can do way better than her." You state, not willing to admit to your lingering feelings just yet. You don't need to, however. Miguel can see the ghost of your love you still harbored for him on your face. It was still alive, even if you weren't ready to say it aloud.

Miguel gives you a soft smile in admiration. "Well, thanks for looking out for me..."

"No problem." You answer, looking up at him.

"But, I am a grown ass man. Trust me, I have better judgement than you think." Miguel says playfully.

"Ohhhhh I SERIOUSLYYYYYY beg to differ." You scoff, throwing a stray stone into the ocean absentmindedly.

Miguel's eyebrows raise. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Another stone you threw plops, making a splash.

Miguel watches your actions, trying to figure you out. "My judgement sucks that bad?"

"Mhmmmm..." Another stone plops into the water. "Just look at how your engagement ended up."

Miguel nods, not denying the reality. "Touché..." He chuckles as you throw a new stone a little harder, making a small grunt in frustration.

His playful expression fades as it clicks for him, just how much BS he put you through all this time.

"I never did apologize to you, did I?" He says.

You turn and he's looking you in the eyes. You hold his gaze but you look down momentarily, a little thrown off by its intensity. But then, you realize this is all you ever really wanted to hear from him.

You lift your head, and you feel the pitter patter of your heart as you realize he took a few steps closer to you.

"I am sorry..." Miguel whispers, reaching for your hand. You flinch, moving your hand away. He notices and raises his hands in a surrender position, lowering them back to his side.

"I'm sorry that I put you through so much. For misleading you that night in the fairytale suite, for the shit storm you weathered on social media, for dumping you and hurting you, for letting my mom give you a hard time, making you relive your trauma week after week....I-" he closes his eyes.

Apologizing was foreign to him and not his favorite thing to do, but he owed it to you to find a way to release it all at once this time, even if it made him uncomfortable. You were more important than his discomfort.

There was an elimination ceremony tonight, and Dana might have been his only chance to stay longer in Paradise. The odds were not looking good for him to find someone to give him a rose. Not unless this apology could somehow undo nearly 6 months worth of heartache. Slim chance.

"I am so sorry." Miguel repeats. "You're an unbelievable woman, and you deserved better than what I put you through."

You try to find a trace of insincerity on his face but there is none. Vermilion hues of his eyes, honest and true. His mouth molds into one of his smiles that you love so much.

"You're really strong, too, you know..." Miguel says, a little bashful. "To be able to handle everything you did...I admit, it didn't sink in for me until an embarrassingly later time than it should have. So if I end up going home tonight, at least I know that I put it all out there..."

You listened to him, your eyes widening every so often as he continued and recounted his full story, how Xina ended up being a snob when the cameras were off and his future in-laws were racist and how this whole process, this damn show, completely blinded him, making it so every decision he made was a mistake, including letting you go.

The host, Jason Donner watches the scene play back live. He clears his throat a little uncomfortably at Miguel's open criticism of the show, but mouths to a producer that they'll edit it later with a nervous smile and a wink.

Back on the beach, you blink slowly, your heart left with more confusion than clarity after his confession. You really liked Peter, a lot. But there's no denying Miguel still had you in an iron grip. And, he just said everything that you ever wanted him to say, apologizing at last.

But yet, you couldn't help but wonder if it was only because he didn't have you anymore. Because he didn't have Xina anymore. Because there was nobody new in Paradise that could catch his eye, yet...

"Well, you don't know how much that means to me. That's all I ever wanted you to say, Miggy..."

Miguel melts internally at your voice. Your usage of his nickname adding double insult to injury. The fact that it's coming from you triple confirming that he's very much in love with you, right now, in this very moment.

It's on the tip of his tongue. He conquered his fear of apologizing, what's being afraid of a little love confession? He owes you those three words. He opens his mouth to speak.

"I need some time." You say, cutting him off.

"Time?" He gives you a slightly puzzled look. If it means you'd eventually give your heart back to him in the end, he'll give you whatever you need in this moment, but he's still not sure what you meant.

You gulp, going on to elaborate. "As much as I wanna just forget the past, I need some time to heal from it."

Miguel nods slowly. You were being honest. It hurt. But you were honest.

You continue in a careful voice. "I still want to explore my new connection I made here..."

Miguel nods again, trying to forget the now forming lump in his throat.

"I owe it to myself to see things through with Peter." You say, holding your breath at his reaction.

You release it when you see Miguel nod a third time, giving you a smile, although it's clear it's forced.

"I understand." Miguel says, tracing the sand with his toe. "No matter what happens...you know where to find me. I'll always care about you, one way or another."

You give him a solemn smile, opening your arms out to him.

Miguel's face warms up and he accepts your hug eagerly, his body stiff at first, then willing himself to relax completely. A quiet sigh escapes him as you two hold each other for the longest moment, both closing your eyes, your hands tightly gripping the back of his tank top.

The scent coming off his skin making you feel as if you were at home as long as you were wrapped around him.

The course your love ran on was far from smooth. Your two hearts seemingly molded perfectly for the other were just dealt the most unfortunate of hands from life's deck of cards.

A truly bittersweet moment, but it set a positive precedence going forward when you both said your piece to one another.

You pull away, giving Miguel's hand a fond squeeze in farewell and he turns back towards the ocean.

A couple of tears run down his face as soon as his back is to you.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Later, the group is enjoying the pool. You and Felicia are sunbathing. Dana, Peter, Ben, George, MJ, Web-Slinger, and Miguel are all swimming. Somehow, Dana is managing to throw herself at all of the men.

The only exception is Miguel, who's floating silently in the deep end safely away from her antics atop a large inflatable flamingo, the pink bird slightly crushed under his built form.

You peer over your sunglasses and glance over at Felicia, both of you seething with silent annoyance at the sight of Dana trying so blatantly hard to flirt with your men without any shame.

You relax when it appears that Peter and Ben are staying faithful, nicely and awkwardly ducking away from her advances. You feel a little bad on the inside for MJ even though you were currently dating Peter, watching her touch George's arm in silent claim over him when Dana came swimming dangerously close.

The merriment is interrupted when a figure walks down the stairs.

"Noir?"

Everyone stops what they're doing, turning their attention towards him as he comes walking quietly towards the pool, Jess notably absent from his side.

"What's going on?" Peter jumps out of the pool, walking to his side as Noir plops on an unoccupied chair with his head in his hands. "Where's Jess, is she okay?"

"She's pregnant." Noir says quietly. Everyone freezes, looking at each other with confused expressions on their faces.

Peter looks puzzled, then at the ground, trying to sort it out in his head. "But how...? We've only been here for a couple weeks?"

Noir explains, "The child is her ex's. The man she was dating before she came on the show. She's two months along. She's gone home, understandably so."

A few mouths fall open, reacting to the news, the camera rapidly switching back and forth to get everyone's experessions. You and Felicia grab each other's arms in silent comraddery.

Peter nods slowly, taking this in. "How are you doing with this, then?"

Noir blows air out of his mouth. "I'm still in shock, I admit." He stands up. "I just came back to let you all know that I'm going to be leaving too. I'm meeting her in her home state and we're figuring this out together. I wouldn't feel right staying here."

Everyone nods, the shock turning to silent joy at this news, wishing him and Jess nothing but the best.

Peter walks over to you, placing a hand on your waist, Miguel's cue to paddle to the other side of the pool, trying not to watch.

Peter's eyes search yours, "You doing alright?"

You smile, ruffling his damp hair. "Yeah, I'm alright."

Peter reaches down underneath his beach towel, retrieving an envelope. "Jason gave me a little something..."

You smile brightly when you recognize it's a date card. You take it out of its envelope and read it aloud.

"Peter, Choose a lucky lady to accompany you tonight and let your love set sail. -Jason Donner"

You look up at him, "I'd love to," as you pull him into a kiss.

Across the way, Miguel unfortunately witnessed you locking lips with Peter. He takes his sunglasses off, casting them to the side of the pool, hopping off the inflatable flamingo and disappearing underwater.

Peter and Ben then leave with Noir to help him pack his bags. You and Felicia turn to each other.

"It's getting late, we should probably go start getting ready?"

Felicia nods. Most of the others get out and head back to their rooms as well. Felicia addresses Dana, out of forced politeness,

"Are you going to come get ready for dinner with us?"

Dana shakes her wet hair, smoothing it as she struts back towards the pool. "Nah, you girls go ahead. I know how you ladies are with your hair and makeup. It barely takes me an hour to get ready. I like to keep things simple." She winks in George's direction who smirks back at her, MJ turning a shade of green.

Felicia rolls her eyes like a pair of dice. Thankfully, her sunglasses shield her true feelings. You both make your way back to your room along with the others.

Soon, just Dana and Miguel are left in the pool alone, Miguel back atop his inflatable sunbathing post. Miguel's eyes are closed as he lets the heat gradually absorb the water droplets on his skin, seemingly unaware that she's lurking nearby.

Dana smiles slyly, biting her lip at how fine he looks right now. His muscles and happy trail are on full display, and he's still soaking wet. Paradise looks good on him. She can't resist approaching him, even though he turned her down earlier.

"He's hot, I'm hot, we're both single. I can do whatever I want," She thinks.

Miguel's eyes open in alarm when he feels his inflatable shake as Dana tries to climb on it next to him. "What the...?"

Dana giggles flirtatiously. "Relax, Miggy. I just wanna sit next to ya."

Miguel curses. The inflatable is already nearly at its limit with his weight alone, and it's looking like it's going to capsize under both of them. He just wanted to relax in peace and dry off.

"Stop, you're gonna make us-ARGGLLLGGGHHH!!"

Miguel's voice gets cut off as the flamingo flips, knocking him off and landing him on top of Dana. She squeals and giggles at the water splashing her face, wrapping her legs around his torso underwater.

Miguel thrashes, partially blinded by the water in his eyes, trying to grab onto the side of the pool, anything. His hands find Dana's waist for a moment and she takes that opportunity to mount him, wrapping her legs tighter around him and her arms around his neck. Miguel sputters, not fully grasping what's happening, his vision still blurred by the pool water.

At that very moment, Ben Reilly comes walking back for his forgotten beach towel. He freezes when he sees the sight in front of him: Dana straddling Miguel in the pool. Miguel's back was turned to him, but he could clearly see Dana all over him.

Both of them are oblivious to Ben's presence. Ben slowly backs away, confirming that his eyes aren't lying to him before he turns around, quickly and quietly slipping away to go find Felicia immediately.

As soon as he flees, Miguel finally pries Dana off of him. He grumbles as he gets out of the pool, Dana calling after him with an exaggerated pout on her lips. She smiles to herself, shamelessly looking at Miguel's ass as he walks away, resuming floating solo in the pool.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

In yours and Felicia's room

You look at yourself in the mirror as you put on a large pair of hoop earrings, turning your face delicately to the side as you do a final glance at your makeup. You look absolutely beautiful with your hair done, new sundress highlighting every curve of your body, lips glimmering with your favorite lip gloss, the ocean air of paradise giving you a bewitching glow.

Felicia and Ben are sitting on her bed. Felicia's all dressed up as well, her hair in beachy waves and her lips an alluring red. She's looking nervously at you.

"I don't know what to say..."

"It's fine." Your voice has a slight thickness as you speak. Felicia's eyes have a look of pity when it appears you're just trying to put a brave face on.

"I'll be just fine. I'm used to being let down by now. It's nothing new with him."

Just a while earlier, Ben had found Felicia; he sat her down and told her exactly what he saw in the pool: Dana and Miguel all over each other.

"No way...Miguel said he turned her down."

Ben shakes his head. "I'm telling you, that's what I saw, babe. I swear I'd never lie about something like that."

"I know, I know..." Felicia says slowly, bringing her hands to her face in a contemplative manner.

It's true, Ben was honest. There would be no benefit for him to lie about such a thing. He was just trying to look out for you because he knew you were Felicia's bestie, and you still had a complicated thing for Miguel.

"I'll tell her." Felicia said.

And so, she and Ben did tell you, and it felt like another stake was driven through your heart in that moment. That all too familiar feeling of disappointment that Miguel always left you with.

Such a stupid girl... but could you really be surprised? But this betrayal hurt differently than the others. He poured his heart out to you on that beach, apologizing for everything he put you through, only for this incident to cancel it all out. Just prepping your heart so he could shatter it once again.

He said he didn't have a thing for Dana but he clearly did. Maybe because she was the only girl available on the beach. She felt comfortable enough to be all over him as soon as she thought they were all alone and nobody would find out.

You press your tongue against the back of your teeth as you stand up, trying not to cry once again as you pat Felicia's hand on your shoulder. "I'm good...I'm gonna go meet Peter. I need to focus on my relationship with him. Fuck Miguel."

Felicia and Ben watch you leave for your date with a solemn expression.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

A soaked Miguel is walking towards you on the same pathway. Shirtless, his coffee colored locks in a mop on his head, beads of water trickling down those abs, straight out of a sports magazine. But, as soon as you spot him, you abruptly change directions, going the other way.

Miguel's pupils enlarge when he sees you all dolled up. How jaw-dropping you look in the late afternoon sun. Your dress flows away from you like a sea goddess. But why are you avoiding him?

"Hey!" Miguel calls after you. You speed up. The cameraman wheezes, chasing you like it's Maury and not Singles in Paradise. Miguel picks up into a jog, catching up to you in no time, your speed no match for his thanks to his long legs.

Miguel goes to grab your arm and you yank yourself away. "Get the hell away from me."

Miguel feels a jolt of confusion and hurt. "What's wrong...?"

"What isn't wrong with you, huh Miguel?" You whip around, your words coated in venom as you hurl them at him. "Everything! Do me a favor and stay the fuck away from me for the rest of Paradise. Or even better, leave Paradise altogether and go home!"

Miguel stops in his tracks, his heart damaged in his chest. He thinks hard about what could've happened. What could he have done this time...

Oh no...

Dana. Shock. You must have seen it.

"This is about Dana, isn't it?" Miguel says, speeding up to catch you again. "Huh? C'mon talk to me! NOTHING happened! She came on to me! She threw herself on me when I was in the pool..."

"Just STOP!" you turn around, screaming. Your face on fire. Tears of frustration flowing like a waterfall. "Just leave me alone...I'm tired, Miguel!! You broke me for the LAST time! Stay the fuck away from me!! If you have even the tiniest shred of love left for me in your heart, you'll stay the fuck away from me..."

Miguel is desperate, his grip on you is slipping, his heart is drowning. He can't lose you now, not when there was an elimination ceremony tonight and he might get sent home before he could help you see the truth. Now you hated him forever, and there was no fixing it.

"Please..." Tears are running down his face. "Please..."

"I'll see you around, Miguel. I have a date to go on." Your lip trembles as you turn away, leaving him alone under a palm tree. He clasps his chest as he watches you walk away to have an unforgettable evening with another man, his heartache seemingly painful enough this time to physically manifest with an empty feeling that overtakes his whole body.

"No..." He covers his face with his hand, using the other to steady himself against the tree as his muffled cries cause his shoulders to shake.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Peter is waiting for you on the dock wearing tan khaki shorts and a white button down shirt. The wind is blowing his hair gently in the wind, his 5 o' clock shadow lining his face after a clean shave. Those chocolate brown eyes land on you and he gives you a big smile, his body getting warm at the sight of your beauty.

His face turns to worry, however, as it appears you're upset.

"Hey you...what's wrong?" He takes you in his arms, and you hold him close. His scent is different than Miguel's but it's still delicious, his aftershave giving him a fresh, clean aura.

He holds you in silence and you look up at him. He gives you a little smile, swiping his thumb under your eyes, catching some tears. "Wanna talk about it...?"

You sigh, starting to calm down, your hands on Peter's waist. "Yeah, maybe in a bit, though?"

Peter nods, running his hands up and down your shoulders, making you shiver in a good way. "Course, cutie... Let's get on this boat and get you comfortable...how's that sound?"

You manage a smile, and he wraps his arm around you, guiding you to a large, white yacht where warm blankets, champagne, fresh fruit, and finger sandwiches await.

Peter wraps you in a bundle with a glass and as much food as you like as the boat departs from the dock. The dark blue seas pave away, kicking up white bubbles of sea foam effortlessly as the vessel slices through the water.

It's absolutely stunning and romantic. You lean backwards against Peter and he rests his chin on your head, talking in hushed tones only the two of you can hear as you take in the magnificent ocean views, feeling like a bird gliding along the water.

It's one of those experiences you have to just take in with your eyes, committing every image to memory, the feeling of his hands on your body alone causing you to fall deeper and deeper for him.

For the first time in a while, Miguel manages to not cross your mind involuntarily as you converse with Peter, both of you diving head first into the breath-taking palette of the tropical sunset together. The conversation flows and it's just easy.

He listens patiently as you describe your conflicting feelings about Miguel and how he hurt you. Peter nods, not interrupting you. His eyes wander, looking away as though he were lost in thought, but only for a moment before he looks at you again, reassuring you with a squeeze of his hand.

This other side of your relationship you're exploring with him is comforting. As your yacht date draws to a close, you get even closer to him, the incoming darkness of the night going to your head and the champagne traveling swiftly through your veins, filling you with blazing want. You bite your lip as you press your body a little harder backwards against Peter.

As though he could read your mind, his lips part open a little and he presses back with equal force, one of his hands traveling a little further down your body.

Your eyes roll back when you feel his fingers on the outside of your dress, just above your sex, resting your head backwards against him.

"Naughty..." He whispers, nibbling your ear. He continues to entertain your tease as the boat heads back to shore. The darkness is on your side, keeping your sensual antics hidden from the captain's view.

---

Once you get back, the other couples of paradise greet you warmly once again. Miguel keeps his eyes straight ahead, doing his best to ignore your obvious joy with Peter, signaling a successful date. You and Felicia go off again to have your girl time, the cameras eagerly on your heels so as not to miss any tea that spills between you two.

Miguel tries to control his seething annoyance as a different camera focuses on him. Surely, the audience would revel in this well deserved karma that was being served to him, even if you were blind to the truth and he was wrongfully misunderstood.

The only people left around the fire pit right now are Miguel, Ben, Peter, and Dana. Miguel can't help but notice Ben and Peter are getting rowdier and rowdier, the latter starting to get a little too carried away.

Peter had a right to celebrate, sure, but Miguel was starting to become worried that he was overdoing it. Peter stumbled back and forth between the bar and the fire pit, his steps becoming sloppier in the sand with each trip as the liquor began to settle in.

Miguel coughed and tried to mind his business. Dana was lurking close by, butting into the drunken conversation between Peter and Ben, her's and Peter's voices fighting for dominance over the other.

Miguel's eyebrows traveled up higher and higher on his forehead as he listened to the nonsense leaving Peter's mouth. You couldn't really be into this guy, could you? He was complaining about dating and his love life in general outside the show. He made remarks that were borderline misogynistic, how women weren't genuine nowadays and "real ones" were hard to find, and blah blah blah. Ben was slumped backwards, snoring loudly. Miguel was the only sober and alert witness at this point.

Miguel winced and looked for you, but you were far off having a chat with your bestie. Totally unaware that Dana seemed to be pushing the line with Peter, something that Miguel was picking up on quickly, his sobriety giving him binoculars of clarity that everyone else was missing.

Miguel tries to stay and watch as long as he can, but he realizes he needs to use the restroom. He decides to shake it off for now, deciding that Dana is just being homewrecking-Dana, and that Peter is just acting out of the ordinary due to excessive inebriation.

Miguel uses the men's room, washing his hands, and goes back outside, walking along the long garden path back to the beach. He figured he'd take one more stroll along the shoreline to clear his mind before the Elimination Ceremony, making peace with the fact that he's probably going home tonight.

He hears a rustling in some bushes and a woman's soft moans, stopping him dead in his tracks. He shakes his head, trying to continue and move along.

Probably just one of the couples having some nighttime fun, a typical occurrence in Paradise.

But then comes the sound of a suspiciously familiar man's voice, groaning a name that Miguel did not expect:

"Dana...."

Miguel whips around and follows the sound, making himself stealthy as he tries his hardest to crouch down and stay hidden. He scrunches his nose in pain as the twigs and leaves scratch his exposed legs and forearms. Then, he sees it.

The voice moaning Dana's name belongs to none other than Peter B. And here he was, eating her out in secret behind a small clearing of palm trees. Her swimsuit coverup was pulled upwards and her bikini bottoms to the side as she bit her lip in pleasure, her hands tugging at his hair.

Miguel's mouth falls open in disbelief, his brain short circuiting, not willing to fully connect to the vision his eyes are witnessing. Nausea emerges within him, followed quickly by waves of raw anger, this sick display of betrayal unfolding right in front of his face while you were happy and unaware, being faithful to a man who didn't even have his ring on your finger.

The edge of the camera nudges Miguel's shoulder and he jumps in alarm, hissing at its foolishness in possibly revealing his position. This show really had no shame in the lengths they'd go for some drama, but did they really have to be all up in his space like that?

The cameraman breaks a twig under his foot, leading to a loud snap, causing Peter's head to shoot up in a cold sweat as Dana frantically tried to straighten her clothes, bolting in the other direction.

Miguel makes a run for it too, struggling his way out of the bushes the same way he came in, branches and twigs giving him a new layer of scratches and pokes.

Once he's back on the moonlit path brushing off his button up shirt and swim shorts, he straightens up and sees Peter stumble a few feet in front of him, fresh from the scene of the crime.

Peter drunkenly locks eyes with Miguel, brown meeting burgundy. His eyes widen in fear that he's likely been caught, Miguel responding with a look of disdain that contains the highest level of disgust and fury he can muster.

Peter gulps and clumsily stumbles away, leaving Miguel alone once again, seething with rage, his mind running a million miles per second.

Once Miguel begins to calm down a little, his trusted logistical thinking begins to take over again, but it's overwhelmed by dread as he slowly begins to walk, placing one foot in front of the other, and repeat.

Deep breaths.

He feels his heart shudder under the heavy weight of this burden he must now bear.

He'll have to break your heart once again, even though you already hate him forever.

The whole trajectory and name of the game has just changed as he knew it within a matter of minutes.

This simple knowledge he now carries would shake up everything.

The dwindling hours he has left before the Elimination Ceremony tonight looms overhead ominously.

He rubs his face, letting out a small groan as he trudges heavily onward, preparing to face your wrath once again.

The host, Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover:

Stay tuned for another drama-packed episode of Singles in Paradise!

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

@miguelhugger2099, @kodo1221,@mimiemie, @laysmt, @cheerrioeoz @spicydonut25 , @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @famouscattail , @thekidscallmebosss , @librababe99 , @ce3stvu @irishbl0ss0mz, @nommingonfood @mauvecherie-writes , @royale-skeleton-key , @thesilenthill @dimitri-needs-therapy , @a-lil-whore @aisyakirmann @sylveon-of-heart , @hobiebrowns-wife @weirdothatwritess , @reader-1290 , @thesmutconnoisseur , @koyukilove

@hardlystrictlystarwars , @lareinamorgan , @serpentineaerodynamics ,

@envyjmoney, @clementines-valt, @the-pan-liquid

@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate , @cynwing

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fixing-bad-posts · 5 months

Note

HOW DO YOU MAKE THESE THIS IS GONNA TAKW FOREVER

omg 😂

it doesn’t actually take me too long. tutorial under the cut for anyone who wants to know how to make cut-up style poems like this one:

so i take a screenshot and put it into ms paint, where i make myself a working space by setting the background to some colour other than black or white. in the example below, i use purple.

⬆ as you can see above, the left side is a screenshot, and beside it is a working space made of purple. i use the ms paint "select" tool to drag words where i want them.

after i have the text looking how i want it, i once again use the "select" tool to copy + paste my text into GIMP (which is free to download).

once the image is in GIMP, i make sure that it has an "alpha layer" which basically means that the negative space will be transparent rather than a solid colour.

then i use the "select by colour" tool to erase all the purple, and leave me with floating text strips.

new layer time! i create two: one for the shadow, and one for whatever background graphic i want. sometimes, i rename the text layer.

⬆ arranged like so: text layer on top, shadow layer under that, background graphic in the background.

now, using the "fuzzy select tool" (the one that looks like a magic wand in GIMP), i navigate to "TEXT LAYER" and select everything that is not text. then, i invert the selection using the "select" drop-down menu.

(the hot pink here indicates what i have selected)

now that you have your selection inverted, navigate to "SHADOW LAYER" and use the "bucket fill tool" to colour in this inverted selection (which should be an exact shape-match for your text). usually, i will set my "TEXT LAYER" as invisible while i do this, so i can see what i'm doing.

then i drag the shadow into place, wherever i want it, using the "move tool"

finally, navigate to "BACKGROUND LAYER" and copy + paste any picture or graphic you want as the background. i'm using a picture of merlin, because i love him and he makes me happy.

you may have to fiddle around with image size, and remember to anchor it to the background layer once you're happy with where it sits.

merge all the layers, select all, and paste it into tumblr:

voilà! hope this helped lol—let me know if you have any questions <3

#ask fbp #fionacle #tutorials

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ollieolliewrld · 3 months

Note

Welcome to the tumblr writing space! I'm confident you'll do amazing here!

If I may request DMC- and take your time with it -what kind of partner the twins would realistically prefer. Whether it be personality types, deal breakers, what they are willing to compromise for/with, what they expect etc. I'm curious of others takes on these types of things and I'd like to see yours, when you have the time. Whether it's DMC 3 or 5 (or post 5) era, is up to you.

Happy writing! Again, take your time and polish as much as you feel you need to. Have fun!

Love, love, love this! Thank you for the request and the kind words <3 I’ll be taking the DMC 5 and post 5 era but I may revisit this once I finish playing DMC 3 fully!

**This is not a fluff piece it is a bit more serious**

1.3K words

Dante

✭ Ideal Partner

-Dante’s ideal partner would be someone who has a good understanding of their surroundings

-He’s looking for someone perceptive so that you both share a mutual understanding of situations

-Basically, he doesn’t want to hold their hand and baby them through life

-If something happens he is going to make sure they are ok but also expects that they will not crumble completely

-Dante has been through hell and back when it’s time for him to settle down he is not playing games

-He’s a grown man who wants his chance to finally relax

-The cocky attitude he keeps up can get him through a lot but his partner is the one who truly pulls him through it all

✭ Deal Breakers

-Will not put up with tantrums

-He can understand if you get emotional at times, he doesn’t expect you to have it all together 24/7

-But you cannot throw a fit if something does not go your way

-Dante cannot be everywhere at once and with the state of things there are going to be times when he will have to cancel a date or movie night

-If you cannot understand that he will not stay

-If he is going to be with someone long-term they need to be understanding of his background

✭ Compromises

-Dante would not want his partner anywhere near combat unless they have proven to be fully capable

-After that, if you really wanted to he would be willing to let you take on some missions of your own

-He would also compromise if his partner wanted to do very typical couple things

-Like he would get a matching jacket with you or something like that but he would not do anything with writing or graphics

-If you two are going to do something it will be done tastefully and hopefully in red

-Dante wouldn’t have many things he would not compromise on, if he truly wants to stay with you he will make it work and swallow his pride once in a while as long as you are willing to put the work in to meet him halfway

✭ Expectations

-He expects that you have life skills

-You would not need to be a pro at finance or a god in the kitchen but you would need to know how to live on your own

-Dante cannot always be there even though he wants to be and he does not want the additional worry that you are going to explode when he leaves

-His ideal partner would have their head screwed on, not perfect, but able to pick themselves back up when they get knocked down

-He also expects you to support him and be there for him

-There are times when he needs a shoulder to rest on and he would expect his partner to be willing to be that

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-Dante requires someone with a sense of humor

-You need to be able to laugh and understand his jokes

-You would also need to be a good listener

-He won’t talk your ear off but he needs you to remember what he tells you

-It would mean a lot to him if you remembered the small things too

-Being sociable/outgoing must be your personality type

-He needs someone who can go out into the world with him and interact

-Yes he enjoys spending time rotting on a couch with you but when you two are out he wants to show you off proudly

-Having you being confident and able to explore with him is a must

Vergil

✭ Ideal Partner

-Vergil needs a patient lover

-He is not socially inept but he is not extremely experienced in how to lead an average life and relationship

-Ideally, they would be willing to understand what he has been through and all that has shaped him into the man that he is today

-He is a loyal lover who needs someone that will stay with him through it all

-Someone resilient would fit him

-Again, like his brother, he is a grown man he does not have it in him to baby someone through life, you need to be able to stand on your own before he could settle down

✭ Deal Breakers

-He is not messing around

-No one-night stands, no FWB, he is going for the long-term

-It is end game or nothing with him

-If you could not take things seriously he would leave

-Vergil looks at life with seriousness he is not going to be with someone who continuously makes jokes every two seconds

-He is also looking for someone more submissive as in they will follow the decisions he makes without fighting him

-He is willing to take the time to explain why he made the decision but he will not take the time to go back and forth with you when he knows what the right thing to do is

✭ Compromises

-Vergil can be a little too serious at times and forgets to relax

-He wants to get things done the right way and will lose himself to his work

-Being with someone who can let loose and live would be a change in pace for him but he would be willing to compromise

-As long as everything is handled he could spend time with you having fun

-It is very hard for him to let go of his control as he wants to be constantly motivated However, learning to take a step back and take a breath is not going to throw all of his work out the window

-Once he sees that you could slowly work him up to the very mundane aspects of life like reading a book at the beach together

✭ Expectations

-He expects you to be willing to work with him

-As I have been saying, you need to be patient with him

-Vergil is willing to learn and change but he has his own problems he is working through

-Life has not been kind to him and he will be open about that so he would expect that you do not hold that against him

-Any mistakes he makes are not done to harm you, they are done because of a lack of experience

-He is not in tune with his emotions and has a hard time expressing his feelings as well as picking up on yours

-Hopefully, you would be able to work with this and understand where he is coming from

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-It cannot be stressed enough that he is looking for someone patient

-You do not have to be a saint he will be working with you as much as you are working with him

-He doesn't want you to give up on him

-Vergil is looking for someone who is level-headed, not over-emotional

-He just does not know how to be around someone who can fluctuate in emotions very quickly

-You would need to be intelligent, not like a genius, but able to understand directions and pick up on your surrounding

-He wants you to be a safe place for him so you being understanding and willing to take the time to get to know him means a lot

-It will take some time for Vergil to open up to you fully but once he does the man is locked into you and not going anywhere

Author’s Note: I really hope this is to your liking! I would love to hear what you think and if anyone has any opinions of their own! <3<3

I had a blast brainstorming this, thank you for sending in this request!

#dante #dante sparda #dante x reader #dmc dante #vergil #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #dante devil may cry #dmc vergil #request #reqs open #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry

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inmyheadimobsessed · 1 year

Text

Knew I'd Always Crawl Back

pairing: shuri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: a question looms in the air: will you and shuri make it to your dinner reservation on time, if at all?

word count: 4373

contains: smut (18+), thigh riding, strap!shuri, multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, overstimulation, slight praise!kink, fluff at the end because romance is real!

tags: @fetchyourlife @shurisbbymama @takeyaki @n7cje @shuri-my-love @straightestgay-voice @simp4iwaizumi @bubshri @verachii

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: lmaoooo, all i can do is laugh, truly. i wrote this whilst high, so i hope it's coherent? idk. i'm so in love with shuri y'all like this is crazy pants! shouts out to my mutual for translation help! enjoy <33

translations: sthandwa - my love, mtuwam - my person, bambo'lwami - my other half

════

part two | part one

“How much longer until you're ready, sthandwa? I can only sit still for so long.” Shuri groaned from her seat in front of your vanity.

You stuck your head out from your closet as you put in your second earring, “I only need a little while longer.”

“Might want to pick up the pace!” She was annoyed, understandably. You’d given her that exact same response seven times already. She was patient at first, but it was wearing thin now.

Shuri showed up an hour earlier than your agreed upon time, no doubt for this exact reason. She was aware of how long it took you to get ready. This being your first date since getting back together, officially, did not help.

Your nerves were bouncing around like children hopped up on too much sugar. It reminded you of your jitters when you first asked her out. She’d made you wait an entire week before making up her mind, only to admit her answer was never not going to be yes.

Your girlfriend and her games. Your girlfriend. It felt amazing being able to call her that again. Three weeks apart dragged on like three years. It made you realize Shuri was a part of you, her presence sewed into your body and mind. A presence you refused to live without.

The conversation the two of you had about your future unraveled many emotions and thoughts that went unsaid for weeks. You finally opened up to each other about the pain and the loss being felt on both sides in a healthy way. It was hard, and raw, and it was real. It was the most honest conversation either of you had ever had. Having someone who accepts you at your most vulnerable was a rarity, but the ancestors sent you Shuri. And for that, you were most grateful.

The dust had settled, and that chapter of your lives was now closed, tied up with a happy ending thankfully. Tonight was a night of celebration. Shuri decided a romantic dinner at one of the most elite restaurants in the city was a good way to do that.

“Nothing that takes too long, please.” She’d said, insisting on needing to have you home and undressed beneath her as soon as humanly possible. You could not lie, you were just as impatient as her, maybe a bit more. She had refrained from touching you since that night in the club, and instructed you to refrain from touching yourself. It was pure torment, but torment you knew would be worth it.

Something that subsided your neediness was knowing she longed for your touch just as you did hers. Her little whimpers every time you brushed up against her in any way was evidence enough. Shuri did not know you were privy to this information, and you were going to have your fun with that.

You stepped away from the mirror inside your closet and stood under the threshold. “How do I look?” Her lip bite at the sight of you was immediate, and you smiled. She took in the way your velvet dress embraced your hips and curves. Your earrings dangled aimlessly as you posed for her, right arm extended above your wild curls. The heels you chose were the most uncomfortable pair you owned, but they were also the most elegant, and they matched your dress.

“You look…” The twinkle of awe in her eye was answer enough. You strutted towards her and not once did Shuri rip her gaze away from you. Knowing that your girlfriend was completely and utterly enamored with your very existence was a powerful feeling. It was a feeling you reveled in.

“Thank you, mtuwam, but I still believe my outfit is missing something.”

She slanted her head as if to disagree, “What could it possibly be missing?”

“My necklace.” Your pout was mighty, and so was her smile, but she said nary a word.

You stood in front of her and her eyes fixed on your chest, eyeing your cleavage without a drop of shame. Part of the reason you chose the dress you were in, was to garner that reaction out of her. You bent over a tad, pushing your boobs in her face just enough to keep her in her trance.

“I need this seat.” Your whisper was sweet and seductive. You were unsure if she heard you because she had yet to move a muscle. Shuri’s mouth hung agape as she salivated before you.

She shook her head then, blinking at you, “Pardon?”

“The seat. I need it.” You gestured to the chair in front of your vanity she’d been perched on while you got dressed with a small smirk.

Shuri cleared her throat, “Why? Are you not ready to go? You look ready to me.”

“I am ready. I just need to put my hair up, and then we may leave.”

Her eyes flickered to your chest again before she spoke, “If that is all you need to do then have a seat right here and do it.” She patted her thigh and smiled up at you. You gave her an eyeroll, but followed her instruction nonetheless. Her satisfied little grin was worth it you supposed.

You placed yourself in her lap and began grabbing fist fulls of your fro, humming along to the music playing softly in the background. Pretending not to notice the way Shuri gawked at you in the mirror was amusing, it seems you were incorrect about being more impatient than she was.

As you did your hair, you found your body moving to the song that played, grinding into Shuri’s thigh. The small amount of friction it brought you was thrilling. She did not seem to notice what you were doing. Good. Every few minutes, you would adjust yourself on her lap, swallowing the moan threatening to escape you.

It was risky, but Shuri busying herself with her Kimoyo beads left the opportunity wide open. You moved up and down as carefully as possible, trying to concentrate on your hair. Soft shallow breaths were all that you allowed yourself, but oh did you need more. The sensation, your clit on her clothed thigh, left your chest heavy.

You let your eyes flutter shut, allowing yourself to get caught. “You're not as sneaky as you believe yourself to be, you know.”

Her voice startled you and all your attempts to feign innocence were rendered useless. Lips pressed against your ear sent shivers down your spine. You exhaled a long, lengthy breath and shut your eyes tight.

“Okay. I’m ready to go now.” Attempting to hide the shake in your voice was difficult, and Shuri was buying none of what you were selling. You tried standing up, but she held you in place.

Her huff of laughter was one you knew well; she was scheming. “You may be ready to go, but I'm not. You made a mess on my pants.” She gestured to her leg, and sure enough, there was a small wet spot staring right back at you. Curling into yourself was an option, and the thought gnawed at your brain the longer time went on. This could not bode well for you.

“Now you must finish what you started.” Your eyes met hers in the mirror, and there were remnants of a smirk there.

“What?”

“I know you aren't wearing any panties under this little dress, sthandwa.”

Your eyes turned pleading as you watched her reflection. Shuri had warned you about the consequences if she found out you’d been pleasing yourself without her permission. And not only did you go against her, but you did it in her presence. “We're going to miss our reservation if we don't hurry.”

You stood, and she pulled you back down. “We aren't going anywhere until you finish what you started, my darling.” You knew that tone of voice well too, there was no arguing with her now.

You begged once more, but to no avail. Slowly, slowly, slowly, you opened your thighs. There was a small squish, and you began to rub your sensitive bud on the previous spot.

“I know you want to go faster, go ahead.” You picked up the pace and your breathing did the same. Small whines climbed up your throat as you rode Shuri’s thigh. It felt good; better than good, perfect. You were growing wetter with each hump, and her eyes did not move from the image of you in the mirror.

Your clit twitched at the contact, growing more and more sensitive. Shuri watched your breast jump with your movements, eyes glazed over, lust darkening their hue. Her lips were on your neck then, kissing right below your ear. Back pressed against her front, you threw your head back as you slid your pussy up and down her thigh.

Small, wet sounds were becoming audible as you approached your climax. Your pussy was dripping all over her pants. She did not seem to care, and neither did you. Your pace was a force to be reckoned with as you moaned, loud and booming. Shuri’s mouth and tongue were all over your throat, but not once did her hands move from your hips as she steadied you. With a small bounce of her thigh, she added to the sinister sensation.

You kept grinding into her, breathing heavily as you built yourself up. “That's it. I love that look on you.” Her words sent you almost immediately. And there it was, that feeling you were missing; that feeling Shuri denied you on the dancefloor. Your first orgasm in months. It filtered through you, filling your bones and muscles, and your entire nervous system. Your toes curled in your shoes and your riding rhythm faltered.

You cried out as it washed through you in the way waves do, groaned until you rode it out. A feeling you wish you could bottle. Orgasmic; the perfect name for the most perfect feeling.

Sleepiness overtook you, but you knew you weren't getting off that easy. “That was amazing, but I’m afraid my pants are ruined now.”

Shuri removed her hand from your hip, sliding ringed fingers through your damp, swollen folds. You hissed at the feeling, needing a minute to wind down. But you could not stop her, your body limp against hers.

“You're drenched.” She rubbed gentle circles on your used clit and you attempted to wiggle out of her touch. It only caused her to chuckle. Shuri dipped one of her fingers into your leaking hole, thrusting it in and out a few times before bringing it to her lips.

She hummed when your cum hit her tongue, “Oh I've missed this taste.”

“We're going to be late for dinner.” It was all you could manage, but you knew your words meant nothing.

Your eyelids hung low as you watched Shuri in the mirror. Her face let you know the only thing on the menu tonight was you, and Shuri was raised to believe you must always finish your food. “I want you out of this ridiculously short dress, and on the bed.”

Lazily, you practically crawled to your bed, the lastings of your orgasm still weighing you down. Your attempts to unzip your dress failed, so you turned to Shuri, “Help?”

Her smile pulled you in as she stood and came towards you. Your eyes traveled to her pant leg and the mess you made, and there was a warm fuzzy feeling within. She eased up behind you, running fingers up your arms and down your back before slowly sliding your zipper down. She kissed your shoulder, then your neck and you sighed into it.

Shuri guided your dress straps from your body, tugging gently at the fabric. She couldn't even wait for you to be completely out of it. As soon as your breasts were exposed, she cupped large handfuls of them and your eyes rolled back when she pinched your nipples.

“Does that feel good my dear?” She rolled your buds between her fingers, shooting pleasure right down to your achy sex. Wetness rolled down both of your legs, pulling you closer to yet another release. “I need to hear you say it, sthandwa. Tell me how it feels.”

She pinched harder and you yelped, “It feels so good.”

“Good. On the bed for me.” You stepped out of your dress completely and did as she instructed, climbing onto your comfy mattress and settling in. Shuri undressed herself at the foot of the bed, ripping off her suit piece by piece until she was left only in her unbuttoned dress shirt. The sight of her like that was overwhelming; prowling and hungry, and it just might be your favorite look on her.

Grabbing your ankles, Shuri pulled you closer to the edge and you giggled shyly. “Tell me, how long has it been since you last felt my lips on that pretty cunt of yours?”

“Too long.” You huffed and she nodded. Desperation lodged inside your bones at the thought of her going down on you.

She opened your legs and you shivered. “Do you miss it?”

“Terribly.” Your response was a whisper that she swallowed. She leaned forward to kiss you hastily, sucking on your tongue. Pulling away, her lips began to wander your lower body and you whined. Tattooed fingers hovered over your most delicate as she pulled your right nipple into her mouth. When her digits sunk into you, a cry sprung free and your head flew backwards in pure delight.

Feeling her spread her fingers inside of you as she lapped your nipple, swirling her tongue around it with every suck, drove you crazy. Her fingers worked you with skillful precision, causing you to squirm and tangle in your sheets. Teeth grazed your abdomen, descending down, down, down. She stopped where she fucked you before looking up, catching your eyes.

“Look at me while I devour you, let me see those eyes.” And you did. You drank in her dazed sunburnt irises as she wrapped her soft mouth around your swollen clit. Shuri’s slurps and sucks rang in your ears and your screams rang in hers, mingling in the air. She continued the thrusting of her fingers, sloshing around in your wetness and your cum from your first orgasm, just as you approached your second.

Brown eyes fixed on brown eyes all the while. Not once did she break her stare, and you did not dare break yours. Her tongue replaced her fingers and your hips lurched upward in pleasure. In and out, in and out. She lapped you up, making your head spin like a top.

Shuri pushed your hips back into the mattress and you squirmed, “Stay still.” It was a command you needed not to challenge. The pressure she put on your hips was sure to leave bruises in the morning, and the thought only turned you on more. You loved when she marked you as hers alone.

Your hands traveled to her head, tangling in her curls as you cupped it. Hearing her moan from the act of eating your pussy like a starved animal was single handedly going to do you in.

“Stick out your tongue.” You managed in between heavy breathing.

When she obliged, you created your own rhythm, rubbing your nub back and forth against her. Her hums of enjoyment pushed you to continue, only amplifying your sensation. Hips stuttered and vision blurred, your second orgasm swimming through you within seconds. “That's it dear, make a mess all over my face.”

“Yes, my Queen.” You breathed out strings of curses, humping Shuri’s face to drag your pleasure out. Sensational. And you only wanted more. You pulled her up to kiss you, and to cheekily get a taste of you on her. Grinning into the kiss, she sent her hand down to your hole again, pumping you softly. The kiss was heated and swoon worthy, your juices covering both of your lips.

When you flipped her, positioning her under you, it surprised her. A lone smirk formed on your lips and she matched it. “Your turn, my Queen.”

Warm tender kisses peppered her jaw, lips sucking anxiously. Your tongue trailed from her neck tattoo, down her throat, to peck the space between her breasts. It was slow and drawn out, and Shuri’s restlessness roared awake. It was what you planned for. You kissed her abs sweetly, then traveled back up her chest. Her groans of annoyance only egged you on. Reaching for her hand, you wrapped your fingers around her wrist, guiding it to her own soaking sex.

“Show me how you want it, mtuwam.” Shuri’s fingers, still coated in your slick, pushed through her wet folds. Slithering down the length of her body, you settled in between her damp thighs and watched her play with herself. Her movements were swift and jittery; a little too eager for your liking. “Slow down love.”

Extending your hand to her nipple seemed like the best way to intensify her pleasure, so it was what you did. Her groans were so pitiful; music to your ears. You clamped down with great strength and she screeched.

She tried slipping a finger inside herself, and you intervened then, replacing her digits with your own.

Revving Shuri up for a release was your only goal as your thumb massaged her throbbing clit. Sweet, sweet release, it was what she deserved for being so damn perfect. You lowered your mouth to her pussy, diving head first into her ocean. Instinctively, your tongue drove into her tight warmth, and she sobbed above you. Your own moans surged through her as you fucked and sucked.

Shuri’s body thrashed on the bed and her toes curled. She was close, and you had the power to take her all the way there. Having the Queen of Wakanda fiending for your tongue and fingers deep inside her was the ultimate power move. Royalty bowed to no one, usually, but her Royal Highness bowed to you.

“Is her Majesty going to come for me?” You looked up at her and the view was heavenly. She nodded, tweaking her nipples. Shuri’s back shot off the bed at the feeling of three fingers entering her. “There you go baby.”

When she came there was a few seconds of silence, followed by a slew of blasphemous lines. Eyes stamped shut and legs twitching uncontrollably. Grunts flew this way and that. You pumped her still, needing to feel her clench around you for a little while longer. You pulled your digits out of her soon after, and pushed them through her lips. “Open.”

“You taste fantastic. Won’t you agree?” She nodded with a cum glazed smile, catching her breath.

You climbed up to lay beside her, propping yourself up on your elbow. Admiring her beauty was your favorite thing to do. Flawlessness existed in the form of your girlfriend.

Her voice was groggy when she spoke, “I hope you know we are not finished.”

“I do know.” Your squeal was high pitched and it made Shuri giggle. Her shirt hung off her shoulder as she bent over for her bag. She returned with a box you knew well; too well.

A beckoning finger pulled you to the edge of the bed. It took only seconds for her to pop it open and you flinched, eyes widening.

“New?”

She nodded, “Brand new, for you.” She removed the toy from its resting place and you examined it. Bigger than the last one; sleeker, thicker. It both enthralled and alarmed you, a combination you enjoyed. Shuri placed the strap just above her crotch, and the harness materialized as her panther suit does. You bit your lip in excitement.

“Hands and knees.” You did as she said, arching your back in the process. She ran her fingers down the crook of your spine and you relaxed. Towering behind you like a shadow — Shuri positioned herself for intrusion.

Leisurely, she grabbed your hips, slipping into you. Her first thrust was measured and calculated, making sure you could take it. The stretch burned wonderfully, as you pushed back on her, signaling her to move. “You don't have to be gentle with me.”

“It was never my plan to be gentle.” Her last words before pulling out and plunging back into your cunt. You plummeted into your pillows with your screams as Shuri plowed you. Long deep strokes, bringing forth grunts from her. You knew she felt the pleasure rush too, through her design.

Squelching, and sounds of skin slapping skin bounced off the walls with the way Shuri ravaged you. Biting down on your pillow was the only way to keep yourself from crying your throat raw. She pulled out, slapping it against your puffy pussy, then dove back in. “Take it, all of it. I love the sounds you make for me.”

Fucking you was Shuri’s favorite thing to do. Nothing else apart from her work entranced her this much. And you loved performing for her, loved putting yourself on display with your moans and wails. You looked back at her working you, catching her watching herself move in and out of your tight pussy. Bottom lip between her teeth as she smirked.

The toy disappeared and reemerged meticulously, coaxing your orgasm out. Superpowered thrusts shook your bed, and the very walls of your room.

Your knees began their inevitable buckling; legs shook, and shuri knew you were close again, “Not yet. Want you to ride me.”

She slithered out your weary hole and you collapsed, crossing your thighs tight.

“Spread those legs, need you on top.” She laid on her back, holding the base of the sopping strap and waited for you to mount her.

Sinking down onto it opened you wider than you thought possible, and you basked in it, as tired as you were. “You’ve got this baby, I know you do.”

Her words of encouragement helped you persist until the shaft was all the way inside you.

Shuri grinned with pride, “Perfect.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, creating a steady pace as you placed your hands on her chest. She guided your hips, fucking up into you all the while. Slamming yourself down on her over, and over, and over made your bed creak. You rode her with greed — starvation unabashed as you moaned like a mad man.

She soaked up the vibrations your bouncing created, and her own desperate whimpers rose in volume. The tip brushed over that special spot inside you again and again, yanking your orgasm front and center. Senses heightened as your tower of pleasure grew tall. Up, up, up. The sky was the limit.

Shuri nodded up at your fucked out features, knowing you were at your peak. She wove your fingers together, bringing your knuckles to her lips for the ghost of a kiss. Sweat trickled down the both of you as your grunts unified. She was close too. Amazing.

“Come on, make me proud sthandwa.” Her words were lightning, striking right where you needed to knock your tower all the way over. All consuming ecstasy; encompassing euphoria.

One last hump, one last thrust, and you were both coming. “Shuri!”

Her name velveteen as it escaped you.

Moans were all that could be heard as she writhed beneath you. Magnificent, melodious moans. She pulled out and you immediately missed the feeling of being filled. Slumped on top of her, your breathing fell in sync, chests rising and falling as one. She laughed when you rolled beside her in the sheets, nuzzling into her and letting your orgasm whisk you into slumber.

•••

The sweet smell of dewy night air tugged you from your sleep. Curtains danced without a care in the wind as you adjusted your eyes to the darkness. Reaching out for Shuri’s warmth, you were met with only emptiness. That was when you panicked. Shuri had never once left you in bed alone after sex.

You sat up frantically, slipping into her shirt laid beside you. Calling for her, you attempted to climb out of bed. The soreness at your core had another idea, unfortunately.

“Don't worry my darling, I'm here.” Shuri sauntered in then, a tray of food clutched in both hands. You smiled when you saw her, ear to ear. She’d pulled on one of your t-shirts and a pair of boxers.

She climbed on the bed and you clapped your hands excitedly when the smell of hot food hit your nostrils. “Since we missed dinner.”

You giggled, “And whose fault was that, my Queen?”

“Certainly not mine.” She scooped spoonfuls of rice into your mouth and the flavor made you hum.

Something caught your eye in the corner of the tray as you chewed. A beige rectangular box called your name.

“Go on, open it.” You squeaked and reached for it. There sat your necklace, shiny and gold, and perfect as ever. Below it sat a matching engraved bracelet.

You picked it up as Shuri pushed your hair out the way, clasping the chain around your neck.

Abaphansi bavumile ukuba sifanaelene Thina sobabini.

The ancestors have agreed that you and I are meant to be.

“Shuri I–” You were in hysterics instantly and she smiled. She placed it around your wrist, kissing the back of your hand sweetly.

“I need you to know that… that you are it for me. You've ruined me and I refuse to have it any other way, bambo'lwami. You are everything. And please, never take this off again.” She sniffed and you nodded with teary eyes.

Shuri placed the tray on your bedside table before kissing your lips. She kissed your face, your nose, your neck, your chest. She poked your sides, tickling you and sending you into a babbling fit of laughter.

You cupped her cheeks, pecking her lips again, “To know you is to love you, and I've loved you for as long as I have known you. All my paths lead right back to you.”

Her mouth pressed to your forehead and you leaned into it, wanting to soak her all up.

#shuri x black!reader #lyricswriting #shuri fic #shuri smut #shuri x black!fem reader #myworks #letitia wright #shuri x reader #shuri x fem!reader #black panther #wakanda forever #shuri x f!reader #shuri x y/n #shuri #shuri udaku

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lis-likes-fics · 6 months

Text

Movie Night

Pairings: Robin Buckley Word Count: 1.7k words Kink: Thigh riding Warnings: NSFW, kinktober, thigh riding, swearing, implied oral (f!receiving), relatively vanilla... A/N: I'm late for Kinktober but I'm going to keep posting these until I finish. If I still have prompts left over, I am going to transfer it into a Christmas event and we'll call it. Thanks and enjoy!

A raspy giggle bubbles out of Robin's chest when you pull her closer to your chest. She'd gotten up to bring the plate of cookies from the kitchen and decided she'd just sit in your lap, expecting you to push her off and call her annoying when she blocks your view of the TV. Instead, you wrap your arms around her front and pull her down so her back is flush against your chest, biting her shoulder teasingly.

"What are you, a fucking dog?" she jokes, scooting off your lap after setting the cookies down and making you let go of her.

"Worse," you smile, leaning over to her and wrapping her back up in your arms to pull her back into you. "I'm your girlfriend."

"That is worse," she mumbles, grabbing a cookie and pouting when you take it just as she's about to take a bite. She just grabs another and rolls her eyes when you take a bite of yours and give it back.

You turn your eyes back to the screen, trying to catch back on to the plot and being unable to engage with it again. It was some kind of B-movie horror plot with a lot of fake blood, cliché jokes, bad graphics, terrible jumpscares, and honestly too many sex scenes that have at least one boob flash that has the both of you quieting down.

You and Robin have been together for a few good months, and they've been glorious months. Of course, your relationship is a secret among the world of people who aren't your fucked-up little group of weirdos and freaks, but you're happy. You're more than happy. And you can't be together for as long as you have been and not…experiment.

You and Robin have fucked before.

But you're still very awkward people who can only respond so well to pretty women with pretty boobs on screen. But you digress…

"What's this movie even about?" you ask, setting your chin on her shoulder and looking at her.

She shrugs her free shoulder. "I don't know. Steve gave it to me when I asked what we should watch tonight."

Just as the words come out, both your focus is stolen when the sounds of a girl's over-exaggerated moans reign through the living room after the sequence had cut to yet another sex scene.

When you turn, you're both met with a face full of bouncing boobs as the woman is meant to be riding some dude's lap. You scoff and roll your eyes to hide your fluster, but she just ducks her head and turns to you. It's awkward, watching these poor depictions of romance and sex on screen and being so…new to romance and sex in real life.

Your eyes lock with hers, and she gives you a smile upon seeing your pretty face so close to hers. Her gaze darts to your slightly chapped lips and wants to kiss you so, so much. So she does.

It took a shameful amount of time, for the both of you, but you have finally reached that point that you no longer have to ask the other one for hand-holding and hugs and kisses anymore. Steve and Eddie call you pathetic, and you are. But so are they, so it doesn't matter.

Her lips brush yours, and you pull her in to be rid of the petty shyness with your hand on the back of her neck. She hums against your lips and then pulls away, smiling prettily. "You know he picked this movie on purpose, right?" she mutters. "He's trying to get us to have sex."

You shrug, smiling to yourself as you stare at her lips. "We'll get him a bouquet or something," you say as you bring her close again.

Your curled lips move softly but insistently against her curled lips as you blindly reach for the remote to cease the incessant wailing of the "sex scene" that has honestly just gone way too long. You manage to get it paused as you adjust yourself to straddle Robin's lap. And she's happy to have you as her hands fall to your waist, and she makes sure you can't break away from her.

You hold her face in your hands, squishing her cheeks a bit. She's so pretty, you note in between kisses when you let your eyes open just enough to see the freckles dusting her cheeks and her nose and her forehead, and her face bare of any makeup, which brings out the beauty of her freckles even more.

She squeezes your waist a little tighter, lowering her palms to your waist and bringing you in closer. Her lips strayed from yours to graze the skin for your neck, tentative little nips and suckles at the flesh making you sigh as you bare your throat to give her space to decorate. Her nose nudges the bottom of your chin, and you chuckle lightly. You feel her smile at the vibrations in your throat when you do.

You graze your fingers along your shoulders, down her spine through her clothes as her back arches into you as a result. You swivel your hips down on her, searching for friction as the heat in your flesh rises. You feel her hand curl around your leg, shifting it over her lap so you sit on her thigh. You moan at the friction you find there as you shift your hips again.

Robin’s hand trails up to your ass again, pulling you closer as you continue to grind down on her. Her eyes are glued to you as they trail along your face, one of her hands raising from your hip to trace along the skin of your neck and feel the vibrations from the gentle moans that slip out. She wraps the hand around your neck and pulls you close, kissing your neck again and urging your hips with her free hand into another seductive roll.

You grind yourself a little rougher, your movements becoming more desperate as the wetness begins to seep through your shorts and stain the material of her jeans. She doesn’t seem to care, both her hands gripping your waist in favor of encouraging your eager pursuit against her thigh.

You whimper when she stops you, bringing you up to make you stand on shaky legs as she pulls you close by your waist again to lift your shirt enough to kiss your belly. You pull it over your head, and she pulls your shorts down your legs. You’re reaching for your panties when she just pulls you back down onto her thigh and kisses you again. She devours your mouth, this woman hungry for your desire much different from the girl you spent endless nights next to in front of the old television set watching B movies with.

You moan as the material of her jeans rubs at your clit rhythmically, separated only by the thin material of your cotton panties. Your arms come to rest behind her head, your fingers tangling in her hair as you kiss her with as much attention as you can spare with the way her thigh’s got you so distracted. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard on it as the pleasure rises deliciously in your belly. Your arousal is soaking through your clothes, only making your desire for her all the worse as does hers for you.

“God, you’re so wet,” she sighs, watching your pussy run against the fabric of her jeans. "Keep riding my thigh, baby. You're doing amazing."

Her name is a whimper from your throat as she encourages you. The pleasure is rising within you and your legs begin to ache and tremble against your efforts. "Bobbie, I'm gonna cum," you moan. "Shit, it's so good."

Her hold of your waist tightened a little more, her nails digging into your flesh as she attached herself to your lips and your jaw and your neck. She nods, concentrating on your grinding clit a little more. "Get yourself off on my thigh. Come on, baby, you can do it."

You keep rolling your hips, your breath shuddering at every little rub against your clit as the sensitivity heightened more and more. The pleasure crackled within your limbs, like pop rocks on your tongue or those sparklers you light with Robin on the Fourth of July.

And just like that, you press your body against Robin's as you cum, thighs trembling and chest heaving as you gasp a loud moan of her name.

"Oh, God," you huffed. "Fuck, Bobbie."

Robin listens to you with heavy breaths of her own, her kiss-swollen lips parted and her hooded eyes watching your every unfolding. "You look so beautiful, baby," she smiles. You hardly notice the way her hips shift, excited by your arousal while you're gripping her shoulders and resting your forehead on hers.

She watches you come down, rubbing your hands on her shoulders and neck before you're taking her lips on your own. She kisses you gingerly, a smile in the curve of her lips as she holds you tight.

"Oh, God! Please!"

You both turn toward the TV as the screaming of one of the characters you hadn't even realized existed is brutally (and comically) murdered on camera, a knife "stabbing" into her and "carving" her up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

You snicker, turning back to Robin and bursting into laughter upon seeing her face alone. She joins you, resting her head in the crook of your neck as her shoulders bounce with each laugh.

You tilt her chin up to kiss her again, and she chuckles against you. "Better?" she asks, raising a brow.

You nod, "Yeah." Reluctantly, you slip off her thigh and put your hands over your face as you take in the sight of her soaked pant leg. "Fuck, sorry."

She laughs. "I mean, I'm not complaining."

"You're fucking weird," you mutter, moving to your knees in front of her as you crook a finger around the waistband of her jeans.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

You undo the button. "Reciprocating."

"Oh," she stutters but doesn't object. You pull her jeans down her legs and push them apart. Her body blushes and she chuckles gently, giddily, before picking up the remote. "That can wait."

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #kinktober

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tvseries-writings · 5 months

Note

TW: suicide attempt

Me again, about Carina and Maya. So...I've been thinking and had an idea.

How about one, where the two come back home from a hard day and just want to cuddle with R and watch some movies etc., but they can't find R anywhere. One of them enters the bedroom and sees a letter, which turns out to be a suicide note, which, obviously, scares them a lot.

So they (frantically) continue looking for R and notice that the bathroom door is closed, so they get a spear key to open it (or just kick it open lol) and see R in the bathtub, wrists c*t open and the water having turned red.

The rest is up to you (but make r survive plssss).

If that's a too much, or too graphic, I can try to come up with another idea.

Endgame

The water is turning red and the pain is slowly fading as the cold makes you shiver.

You look up at the ceiling, releasing the smoke in small circles that expand into the bathroom.

Maya and Carina hate it when you smoke inside the house but you think it won't be a problem this time; the deep cuts on your wrists are proof of that.

You know you should feel guilty about what you're doing, about how it will affect them...but you don't, you feel free at last; the weight on your chest that has been plaguing you for months is gone, flown away as soon as you put the blade on your wrist with the intention of not stopping. No one stays sane for long under conditions of absolute reality, and that is exactly what happened to you. Maya and Carina's love was not enough and not because of them. You didn't want to be helped; it has to be this way and you know it, just like all the lousy foster families who for fifteen years of your life told you so, over and over again until you turned eighteen and joined the Army and later the Seattle Police Department. You've seen so much horror that you're not sure you want to stay in this world and you did what had to be done. That was it.

Suicide is said to be an impulsive choice, as irrational as murder is but it is not, the carefully folded letter on the bed that you, Maya and Carina share is proof of that. No act is ever completely impulsive, there is always premeditation behind it. And yours lasted more than four months; four months of false smiles and emotionless eyes.

But now nothing matters anymore, nothing, because you are finally about to leave this shitty world but also the loves of your life. It is not true that you do not feel guilty but you are sure that they will be fine without you, they will go on as they always have and they will not have your weight on their shoulders, not anymore. That is all that matters, the only thing that matters to you. Finally, for the first time in your whole life, you will do something useful and get out of their way. They will feel bad at first but then they will live a much more peaceful and happy life, you are absolutely convinced of that. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself to get the courage to go ahead in what you're doing.

On the news, on TV, in the movies people say that suicide is an extremely selfish and cowardly act but you don't think it is, there is a deep and primal courage in doing such an extreme act; not everyone is capable of it and not because they don't want to but because they don't have the courage necessary to cross the line and not look back. It is difficult, of course, but it is worth it. At least for you.

You are so weak that you can no longer hold the cigarette, which falls into the water and goes out with a sizzle. A sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the edge of the tub, beginning to sink into the now warm water. When you close your eyes, your last thought goes to Maya and Carina and their smile.

........................................................................................................................

"I'm tireeed."

Carina sighs, nibbling her neck with her right hand and holding Maya's hand with her left. The young firefighter picked her up as soon as she finished her shift and now they are on their way home. Both of them are very tired and the only thing they want is to lie down in your bed and cuddle with you want to choose a good movie for all three of them to watch together. "Today we had to fight with an old lady who didn't want us to use her balcony to save a boy who was going to jump and only because according to her he was an immigrant."

Maya rolled her eyes, shaking her head and huffing in exasperation. As a captain, she certainly couldn't rail against an old woman, but that afternoon, the urge had really been there.

"Sometimes I wonder why people talk without thinking, really, I had to drag Vic away from the woman before he ripped her hair out, rightly so. Luckily we saved the boy but I swear sometimes I really don't understand why I keep doing this job."

Carina smiled, leaning in to kiss his wife as the latter slipped the keys out and opened the door before stopping to return the kiss. "Because you love your job even if people are horrible, just like me and y/n do, Bella ”

Maya smiles and nods, stroking Carina's face and lingering on the hazel eyes she loves so much. "You're right Car and about our girl...have you noticed that she's been a little distant lately?"

Carina nods, getting out of the car together with the blonde and walking, hand in hand, to the building where your apartment is located.

"She's distant, I tried to ask her what was wrong but she said she was fine...I'm getting worried though, it's not like her, it's been more than four months since she's been herself, I feel like I don't see that light in her eyes anymore that she had when we first met."

Maya sighs, pressing the button for the second floor and waiting for Carina to enter the elevator as well before closing the doors. "I had the same feeling, I think we should talk to her today, maybe after dinner...what do you think?" "I think it's a good idea Bella."

The two women smile at each other and then Maya inserts the keys inside the lock and enters your apartment. The hallway lights are off, as is everyone in the house except for the one in the living room and bathroom.

"Y/n, love, we're home!"

Maya shouts, placing her keys on the cabinet at the entrance and slipping off her coat and shoes before looking for you in your bedroom.

Carina does the same, only much slower than the blonde and then sits on the couch, opening the home delivery app to choose what you will eat tonight.

It is Maya who finds the letter. She has just slipped into a sweatshirt and sweatpants when her gaze falls back to the nightstand to the left of the bed and the white, almost snow-white sheet of paper with the words "To my loves" written in your handwriting.

A terrible feeling grips her stomach. The blonde snaps forward, grabbing the letter and opening it to read the words written on it. She only needs to read the first sentence to run into the living room to Carina.

"Maya you need to calm down, what's going on Bella?"

Carina is startled to see the blonde so agitated and then, when she sees the letter in her hands, she snatches it from her and begins to read its contents. Carina, unlike her wife, gets to the third line before she completely panics. "No no no, she couldn't have done that, she wouldn't do that...she loves us Maya, she wouldn't do that to us not."

Maya shakes her head frantically, picking up the phone and dialing your number with trembling fingers. And then, when the sound of your phone ringing echoes in your bathroom, your soulmates have no doubt that you have performed the ultimate act.

Maya screams at Carina to call an ambulance as she bursts through the door after only two shoves. The horrendous spectacle before her makes her want to vomit but she braces herself and pulls you out of the tub by resting you on the floor. She checks your pulse and when she feels nothing, her heart seems to stop.

"Carina, come here!"

Maya begins compressions; she tries to hold back tears but fails to do so. When your wife enters the bathroom, still on the phone with 911 operators, her knees give way and she falls to her knees next to your lifeless body.

“S-She has no pulse, she cut both her wrists, she should have lost more than four liters of blood from the amount I can see...How fucking fast can you get here? Fucking fuck, Bambina please don't do this to us, please."

The ambulance will arrive in five minutes, and both Maya and Carina are not sure if they can continue compressions for that long.

On the fourth round of compressions, they don't know by what miracle, your chest rises and falls. Painfully slowly but it does and your girls breathe a sigh of relief when it happens. "It's okay love, we're here, don't you dare leave us okay? Don't you dare do it y/n."

Carina bursts into tears, lowering herself onto your forehead and leaving a kiss in your wet hair. Both are pressing towels on your wrists and the Italian is carefully monitoring your pulse as Vic, Andy and Warren enter the bathroom with the stretcher and first aid kit. When they see it's you, they are breathless for a few seconds before they get to work.

"Girls, we got her. Now you have to get out though, you know, let's go." Warren, despite their protests, escorts them into the living room and sits them on the couch before returning to the bathroom to give Vic and Andy a hand.

The doctor and the fireman remain silent for more than three minutes, both letting tears line their faces, before speaking.

"I can't believe she did that."

Maya whispers, squeezing Carina's hand and seeking, in that grip, a support, a consolation, that the Italian could not offer her. "I can't believe we didn't notice how sick she was Maya, we should have done something, we-“

Their talk is interrupted by the sound of the stretcher being dragged out of the bathroom. They both stand up and come toward you; you have an oxygen mask on your face and bandages wrapped around your wrists but your skin is still extremely pale. More so than your usual.

"We're taking her to Grey's Sloan, she's stable for now but she's lost a lot of blood and needs a transfusion and then she'll have to stay in observation...well, you know. You can ride in the ambulance with us if you want."

Maya and Carina cast a glance at each other, knowing that when you wake up you will be absolutely and fortuitously angry with them for allowing them to keep you in the hospital for three whole days but they know they have no choice.

....................................................................................................................

Eight endless hours pass before you wake up; the realization of your failed attempt hits you even before you open your eyes, and the heart rate monitor alerts your girls even before you can.

The blinding whiteness of the hospital room and the smell of disinfectant hit you so hard that for a moment you close your eyes, as if to childishly make disappear what is around us and what you have tried to do. But, of course, it doesn't work, and when you open them again, the worried and tired faces of your girls are just above your face. For the first time in the six years you've been together, you can't decipher their expressions.

"You scared us y/n, really a lot."

Maya's voice trembles thinking back to how she found you a few hours ago. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find me like this, not-"

Carina gives a nervous laugh before speaking (or rather, screaming), "better this way than dead y/n How could you think our world would be better without you? We love you, you are a part of our hearts, of our lives..without you we couldn't even breathe how can you not understand that!"

Carina screams, tears streaming down her cheeks and the only thing you want to do is to hold her in a hug and wipe away those salty water drops staining her face but you can't, you are afraid she will reject you and you know she would have every reason to do so.

"I didn't want you to find me alive, I'm sorry because once again I couldn't get one thing done right. I'm sorry because I'm still alive, that's why I'm sorry."

You whisper, shaking your head and holding back tears. You are so tired of living and right now, you really have nothing left to lose.

The two of them remain silent, shocked by what you said but also deeply hurt by Ilf noting that this is what you think of yourself. "Oh y/n, we love you and it hurts us to hear you say these things about yourself so yes, even though it goes against your wishes, we are grateful that we were able to bring you back and in time you will be too, we will help you love."

Maya sits on the bed next to you and caresses your face with such gentleness and with such love in her eyes that your heart cries a little for making them suffer.

Carina comes close and pulls you into a hug, so tight it hurts but you don't have the heart to tell her so you enjoy that squeeze, appreciating the pain of still being there with them.

"Bambina, I know you have it thinking that we would be better off without you but we are not, it will never be that way my love but I need you to know that I am very angry with you but nevertheless I love you and I will want to be by your side every second of your healing journey-"

"We both will be."

Maya nods, leaving a kiss in your hair and stroking your back.

You sigh, hiding your face in the hollow of the Italian's neck. "I love you, I love you so much but I am tired of fighting..I am losing miserably."

Carina shakes her head cn firmly, forcing you to look up and into her eyes.

"Then it means we'll fight for you, you just have to stay with us a little longer until you're better Bella but you won't be alone, not anymore.Non lasceremo che tu affronti tutto questo da sola (We don’t let you face this alone).”

"We love you y/n, you are not alone."

Maya whispers, leaving a kiss on your lips and then doing the same with Carina and then, both of them hold you in an embrace in that little hospital bed and, even though the weight on your chest is back and that feeling of freedom is gone, maybe you really are not alone and for them you could stay a little longer, just a little, for them. For their love and for the love you feel for them.

Thanks for Reading! Here is my ko-fi link and have a Great day!

Taglist: @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx@maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri@scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403

#maya x carina x reader #carina deluca x reader #station 19 #carina x maya #wlw #marina x reader #maya bishop x reader #maya bishop #carina deluca #maya x carina #carina #firefighter

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cillianhead · 7 months

Note

Anything about cillian with a beard!

Cillian with a beard... oh my god don't even get me started.

Anyway here you go my love <3

Three And A Half Months || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, also a fluffy sweet fic, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, mentions of blood but nothing too graphic, general adult content ahead.

18+ Minors DNI

Last night you had reunited with Cillian. It had been three and a half months since you had last seen each other, the longest you had ever gone without seeing one another, he was away shooting for a new film and it was in the states so traveling back and forth between Ireland and America grew exhausting. Of course, as soon as you saw each other, you had no time to process the beard on his face, just the fact he was there. Nothing else mattered except him being there, right in front of you, to touch and to hold. So you went at it like rabbits, knocking over furniture, breathing each other in like feral animals, making love until you were sore and panting for air. No amount of late night phone calls could ever truly compare to the feeling of having his cock deep inside you.

The next morning arrived, light pouring through the curtains and lighting a still sleeping Cillian in a golden light, the rays gave him a tiny halo, one you thought he rightfully deserved. You just smiled to yourself, the both of you still completely nude from last night's love making, you felt at peace, lying in bed with the love of your life, his arm draped over your waist heavily, the sound of his slow breathing, and the indescribable feeling of his warmth beside you. Every time you looked at him, a metaphorical slow romantic guitar would play, your heart would swell and overflow with love, and your eyes stung with the happy tears that seemed to always come. That was the thing about you, so incredibly emotional, Cillian always teased you about it. You'd cry at any chance you could get, whether it be because of hormones or because you saw a cute cat or because of the beauty that Cillian is. And when he had come home with that rugged beard that made him so handsome and so deliciously masculine, you felt weak in the knees, you cried but not from your eyes.

"Mornin' me love," The irish lilt of his voice mixed with the grumble of his morning voice brought you out of your daydreaming. "Lookin' so beautiful f'me." He leaned in, placing a soft sweet kiss to your cheek. You couldn't feel uglier with your messy bed hair and your puffy face after a long night's rest. But to Cillian you were the apple of his eye, no other woman could ever possibly compare.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," He chuckled at your confession. "Those three months and a half went on for far too long but I'm here now, lovie."

"No, no..." You shook your head with a childish grin. "I missed you while we slept... missed you for every moment... was watchin' you sleep."

Cillian laughed contagiously, you giggled too as you felt him pull you closer to him, your bare chests touching. He nuzzled your nose with his own, this moment so full of love, so intimate and private. You felt like the luckiest person in the world to be with him. The light painting you two in a golden hue, the moment felt so surreal, like something out of a wonderful dream or something you'd see right before you die, right as your soul becomes free.

"What've you got planned today, Cillian?" You hummed, you both huffed out hot puffs of air on each other's faces, neither of you caring that you hadn't brushed your teeth yet. Just relieved you could finally touch each other again, relieved your souls could finally reunite and recharge, that your bodies were flushed together, it wasn't possible for you two to be any closer (physically at least).

"Nothin'," Cillian murmured quietly, stroking your hair softly. "Just planned on spending it with my favorite girl, thas' all." You felt yourself grow flustered, nuzzling your face into his chest before glancing shyly back up at him, growing more flustered at the sight of him and his beard. That beard that made your heart race and in between your legs throb with desire.

"Cillian..." You whined, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth. He was so fucking pretty and even after all this time of being together, you could never get over it. It made you feel like a giddy little girl with a silly school girl crush.

"Hmmm?" He hummed. The deep vibration sending jolts of arousal straight to your core. "What is it, baby love?"

"Your beard..." You ran your fingers along the hair accumulating across his jawline and cheeks, clenching your thighs together. In all the time you and Cillian had been together, he had always been clean-shaven, of course there'd be the rare occasion where he forgets to shave for a day or two and has a bit of stubble but nothing ever this long. Cillian had that knowing look on his face, he very much knew the effect he had over you. Arrogant was not the word you would ever use to describe Cillian, in fact he was an incredibly humble and modest man but when it came to riling you up, teasing you, he was quite arrogant then, arrogant in the way he knew every little inch about you and would use that against you. He enjoyed teasing you, enjoyed getting you where you were weak because he enjoyed watching you squirm. "It's so...." You trailed off, biting your lip once again with that flustered look on your face.

"...So what?" Cillian grinned, a cheeky glint in his blue eyes as his hand slipped further down your back until it rested on your bare ass. "Go on, tell your husband how wet his beard's gotten ya, love." Well that was unexpected.

You let out a bashful squeal, diving your face into his chest to hide the look of desperation and embarrassment on your flushed face. You heard him laugh, amused by how easily aroused you were. "Cillian... don't tease me... it's been three months..."

"And a half!" He added.

"...Since I last saw you, you can't blame me... especially since you look sooooooo fucking good with a beard..." You were looking him in the eyes now, his own pupils blown wide and a small one-sided smirk on his face. You slipped your hand down his abdomen before your fingers wrapped around his already hard cock, he let out a small breath at the feeling of your gentle hand.

"C'mere, Y/N," Cillian groaned, grabbing you by your waist, picking you up like you weighed nothing and sitting you up on his stomach. "Wanna taste you... s'been too fuckin' long."

Your arousal pooled on his stomach, getting off on the slight friction against your clit every time he breathed in and out but it wasn't quite enough. "Cillian... baby..." You huffed, too shy to make the first move, he gave your ass a gentle slap.

"Go on, sit on me fuckin' face," He was growing impatient, licking his lips. "Show me how much you love my beard, know you're soaking wet 'cause of it, silly girl."

He wasn't wrong and so you meekly crawled until your pussy was aligned with his hungry face. You hovered your hips hesitantly over his nose and lips, your thighs on either side of his head. He roughly grabbed ahold of your plush hips and pulled you down until he was suffocating in your sopping cunt.

"Fuck!" You mewled, your pussy ached with how turned on you were. His tongue lapped up at you, his nose perfectly brushing your clit as he fucked his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You never understood how he could breathe with your weight fully on top of him, he'd always give you some form of punishment if you didn't sit on top of his face like he was just a chair so you did as you knew he wanted. He always reassured you that he loved it, that being under you with his face buried in you was heaven on earth. And who were you to deny him what he so desperately craved when it felt so unbelievably good? He especially loved it when you took control, when you gave into the pleasure and rode his face, used his face like it was just something for you to cum on. He also knew the consequences of growing out his beard, he knew it'd turn you on, and this was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew once you came all over his face, he'd smell you in his beard for days.

Cillian was in pure bliss as he felt your fingers interlock with his hair, holding onto him for support as you began rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue and nose, moaning so fucking loud that the neighbors could hear. It had been so long and the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs and sticky folds made the experience so much better. The new sensation was only making you moan louder and louder.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck... Cillian..." You were gasping, Cillian groans into your pussy, encouraging your rough movements. "Missed this so much! Missed your face..." Fuck. The feeling of his nose pressed right where you need him, right against your throbbing clit, it was like he was made for you. You loved his nose and you always told him so.

Cillian was breathing you in, feasting on you, like all there was was you. Well at the moment, that was true. All he could hear, see, taste, and smell, and feel, was you. He could feel cum leak slowly out of his cock, not being able to handle how turned on and rock hard he was, he needed some kind of release. But there was no way in hell he was going to touch himself, not when he could have his hands grasp onto your hips, holding you down on his face even further. He hoped one of these days that you would eventually become one. That he could have your delicious cunt permanently on his face, even if it meant suffocating to death.

"Cillian... I... fuck..." Your head was rolled back, hand gripping desperately onto the top of his head, too lost in the pleasure to think about how you could be hurting him but you knew if it was too much for him he'd tap out which he never does. You knew Cillian would take whatever you gave him. "I'm cumming!" You choked out, your hips that were previously fucking his face slowed down a bit, stuttering your movements as you came. You hadn't came this hard in months, your fingers could never compare, nor could your vibrator, or showerhead. You had fully collapsed on top of his head, thighs squeezing his head like a vice as you saw stars. Your vision going completely white. Cillian lapped up all of it, taking it gratefully, face completely drenched and well ridden as you pulled off of him with a gasp.

"Bloody hell..." He grunted, gasping for air. You sat on his chest, still too weak or sensitive to move. Cillian smiled up at you dopily, high off of feeding off you. It only turned you on further how he got off on your pleasure. "Tastes so good... missed that so much... think I know what I'll be doin' all of today, love." You shook your head at Cillian, giggling a bit.

His face was drenched and beard sticky with your cum. Your cum formed perfect little droplets within the hair on his face, looking like he had just dipped his whole face in some sort of body of water, your cum had made it all the way to his forehead somehow. You blushed as you hopped off of him, you always felt embarrassed afterwards.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed, seeing a bit of blood staining his teeth, you looked down at your groin to make sure you weren't bleeding (maybe you got your period?) but your heart sank at the realization you had managed to bust his top lip with how hard you rode his face. "I'm so sorry, Cillian! I'm so so sorry!"

He sat up with a frown, rubbing at his mouth to see the bit of blood on his fingers. He grinned like a mad man at the sight, standing up to look at himself in the mirror. You didn't understand why he was so happy about it. Beard coated in your creamy cum, face flushed, and his top lip bruised and swollen from where it had been repeatedly rubbing against his teeth. Cillian was pleased with his appearance and the newly made wound on his face. You stood up on shaky legs, cupping his face, worriedly.

"It's okay, love," Cillian reassured. "I'm fine, just a bit of blood, it'll heal by tomorrow I'm sure."

"No! I hurt you! I'm sorry I wasn't thinking!" You felt so guilty, you felt like the worst wife in the world. You brushed your thumb along his wet beard with a sad look on your face.

"Y/N," He said firmly, grabbing a hold of your waist, giving you a soft kiss, giving you a taste of yourself. "I wish you could understand just how much I love it when you ride my face. Best fuckin' thing in the whole world, how many times have I told you I'd die a happy man if it meant I got to drown in ya? Hmmm?" He smiled, you still frowned up at him, feeling guilty at his reddened lips. "Fuck, I don't think I could look sexier right now, I mean look at me! I don't really care f'me on looks but c'mon... you make me beautiful, Y/N..." Cillian looked delicious, he was right, you wanted to pounce him then and there and sit on his face all over again. "If people ask what happened to my lip, I can make up some flimsy excuse about how I fell on my face or some shit like that but smile to myself... knowin' the real story..." He licked his lips before continuing. "Knowin' that my goddess of a wife got herself off on my face because she loves me so much..."

His voice was soft, his hands caressed your naked body as he leaned in and kissed you. His beard was the best feeling ever against your lips. "I am sorry though... Cillian... I should've been more gentle..." You murmured. Cillian shook his head, he loved it when you were rough with him.

"I know a way you can make it up to me, darling," He hummed with that mischievous grin before gently pushing you down onto your knees, face right next to his deliciously hard cock. He moved his hips so that the head of his dick pushed at your lips, slapping you gently across the face with it. "Can't promise I'm gonna last very long though..."

"That's fine, Cillian... love the taste of your cum..." You said smiling as you lovingly took him into your mouth. God he looked so pretty with his beard.

<33333

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow

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viking-raider · 10 days

Text

SALT IN OUR WOUNDS - CHAPTER V

Summary-> After being found out by the Patrol, you try to act the part, to lower the suspension on Gus's presence.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III IV

Warnings-> PG-13: AU, Language, Deception, References to WWII, Use of the word Nazi.

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction, pulled from my imagination.

Divider by-> @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

With the officers gone, Gus helped you to your feet, gently cradling your arm in his hands to look at the steadily bruising print on your bicep. His brows creased, as anger at the officer's roughness with you filled him again and guilt for getting you into this mess consumed him. Laying a hand on his chest, you offered him a soft, reassuring smile, nodding your head slightly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tracing the edge of the bruise with his thumb.

"It's not your fault, Gus." You cooed, brows pinching slightly. "It's not like you walked up here and asked us to take you in, We-" You looked at Edmund, who nodded at him. "took you in because we knew it was the right thing to do."

"So, he's not a worker from another village?" Your father's skeptical tone asked, as he regarded the three of you from his chair.

Edmund sighed heavily, rubbing the side of his face. "No, Pops. He's not." He answered, having not liked lying to your father to start with, despite it being needed at the time. Now he was going to have to ask something just as difficult. "She found Gus injured on the beach the other day, and we brought him in, so Dr. Tremblay could treat his wound. I know we told you he was working for me." He explained, moving across to sit beside him. "Now, however, the Patrol, and Trottier, think that Gus is her fiancé. We need to keep that story going. At least, until he's well again and, either they leave the area, or Gus can get back to where he needs to be."

"Can you do that, Papa?" You asked, frowning down at him, concerned for his well-being in the matter, knowing it was a lot asking your father to make merry with a random man who was pretending to be your future husband.

"Well, I have no choice in the matter, do I?" Mael answered, rubbing his shaky hands over his knees. "The mission has already been set up for me by the three of you. I'm just here as support."

"I'll make it as short a mission as possible." Gus replied, giving him a serious, but respectful, expression. "One Major, to another." He added, with a knowing glint in his blue eyes.

"I'll hold you to it." Mael stated, giving him a hard look.

"I guess there's no reason to finish the project downstairs." Edmund commented, sitting at the kitchen table with you and Gus, hands cupped around a fresh mug of coffee.

"Oh, I don't know." You chimed in, setting your tea down. "I really could use some shelves down there." You smirked, giving him a teasing expression.

Edmund gave you a squinty eyed look. "Use some shelves." He parroted, tapping the rim of his cup with his index finger. "Down-stairs."

"Mmhm." You nodded, brows going up, and giggling as Edmund's eyes flickered to Gus. "What are you looking at him for?"

"Wondering if he can get his fiancé under control." Edmund quipped, finally raising the coffee to his mouth.

"Well, I always heard, 'happy wife, happy life'." Gus answered, shifting in his seat, and glancing over at you. "So, if more shelves make her happy." He shrugged his shoulders, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Just because you give her everything she wants, doesn't mean she'll be happy." Edmund replied, an almost sour edge in his voice.

"Are you trying to compare me to Willamena?" You asked, cocking an offended brow at him.

Edmund finished off his coffee and pushed his chair back. "No." He said curtly, standing and striding over to the door, jerking his coat off the hook on the wall beside it. "I'll be back later." He huffed, going out.

"Is he all right?" Gus asked, look to you.

"Edmund will be fine." You sighed, shaking your head. "He and Willa, his wife, haven't been happy together in a very long time. So, it's a sore subject for him." You explained, getting up to take your and Edmund's cups to the sink, but glanced up at the clock. "I have to go down to the shop. We don't have anything for dinner in the refrigerator and I have to see when Remi wants me to work another shift."

"Is it far?" He inquired, coming up behind you and setting his own mug in the sink.

"No." You shook your head, biting your lip as you felt his intense warmth against your back. "Maybe a two minute walk."

"Why don't I go with you?" Gus suggested, cocking his head and smiling at you.

"Do you think you can manage with your wound?" You asked, a bit apprehensive. "I don't want you to over-extend yourself."

Gus's smile brightened and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "I'll be fine, I promise." He assured you, his thumb rubbing your wrist. "I could use the fresh air and sunshine. Plus, it'll help deter any of the Patrol, instead of making them more paranoid, if I stay inside a hundred percent of the time."

"You're right." You nodded, biting your lip, having not thought of what the Patrol would think of Gus staying hidden. "I'll get my shoes and something to wrap up in." You told him, before giving his hand a gentle pressure back.

"I'll wait for you here."

He let go of your hand and moved out of the way. Your cheeks felt warm as you hurried upstairs to grab your cardigan off the back of a chair in your room, pausing to fix your hair in the mirrored back of your vanity and spritz a bit of Soir de Paris. But you stopped, feeling silly.

"Acting like this is a date." You sighed, flustered, plopping down on your chair. fishing your shoes out from under the vanity and securing the buckles. "All right, I'm ready to go." You declared, coming back downstairs, finding Gus patiently waiting for you by the door.

"As am I." He answered, tipping his head politely, while pulling open the door.

"You mind her, Major." Mael called out to Gus, leaning forward in his chair to catch his eye.

"I would think of nothing less." Gus assured him, meeting your father's eye confidently. "I am her fiancé, after all." He quipped, with a wink, then followed you out. "Do we hold hands?" He asked, looking at you, but felt his heart kick at your startled reaction. "I'm only teasing you." He said softly, biting his lip.

"I know." You squeaked, flustered, before catching sight of your sister-in-law coming out of her home across the way. "Oh, that's Willa." You mumbled to Gus, before lifting your arm and waving to her.

"Morning, Willa!" You greeted her, grinning pleasantly.

Willa stared over at you and Gus, pulling a Rose-Tip out of her engraved case and her sky-blue enamel guilloche, sterling silver lighter from the front pocket of her knitted jumper. She didn't return your pleasant acknowledgement, instead lit her cigarette in a smooth and indifferent motion, eyes never moving off the two of you. Gus frowned, cocking a brow at her as he studied her standoffish demeanor; puzzled. She was just anti-social or if she was being rude.

"What’s her issue?" He asked you, his own eyes never leaving Willa.

"She's fine." You answered, sighing at your sister-in-law, your heart yearning to have a connection with her.

You had been excited upon hearing about Edmund courting someone; finally having another woman in the house to talk to, to share in the chores and just confide things to. Things you couldn't do with your father and brother.

However, from the moment you met, Willamena Badeaux had been distant from you.

She wasn't cold, per se, but she hadn't opened up with you either. Willa had been the first female in your close and personal circle, outside of the couple of elderly church ladies that would come over during the day. They would cook meals, clean the house, wash the laundry and just make sure you, Edmund and your father were well taken care of. After your mother had run off with her lover, the assistant shop clerk of the grocery store she frequented on her shopping trips. Which several of you figured were excuses to go and meet up with him; so she could cheat on your poor father.

But, the church women never went out of their way to be motherly or be a true confidant for you. Their love and friendship was out of pity. You were the little girl of a harlot and a mentally broken man, who could barely manage a job, dropping that weight onto his teenage son. So, when Willa came into the picture, you thought you would have a sister, not only to do sisterly things with, but to also learn how to be a woman. That's obviously not how it turned out.

She only came over to the house, if Edmund urged her to. She only held a conversation with you, if you were the one to start it and spurred it to keep going, otherwise she only spoke to Edmund or sat quietly. It only got worse, when the two of them married and moved into the cottage across the street from you and your father. Willa rarely came over for family dinners, meals you were still solely cooking for the four of you. Only occasionally getting a home cooked meal from her, after she and Edmund quarreled over her not performing her wifely duties and dropping the chores of two houses on you. As if you were their maid.

Part of you was sure, Willa detached from you, because she had been under the assumption Edmund only married her to be a mother figure to you. Not because he had been, once upon a time, madly in love with her.

"Do you need anything from the shop, Willa?" You asked, pulling yourself from sinking deeper into that emotional hole. "Gus and I are popping down there now." You explained, raising a hand and motioning to him, casually.

She stared at you for a long minute, before holding up her case, the sunlight glinting off the engraved bronze and mother of pearl. Nodding that you got the hint, you turned and started towards the center of town, with Gus following beside you. The sun was warm, heating the both of you, as well as the modest homes and buildings that lined the street, all converging on the limestone fountain round-a-bout in the middle of Saint-Thurney, spraying an arch of water from the top; a rainbow sparkling in the mist.

"This is really quite a quaint town." Gus commented, glancing about, following you across the sleepy street.

"It is." You replied, smiling up at him, proud of your little adoptive home. "It's almost like we're somewhere else entirely, instead of such a bustling and chaotic world." You told him, always feeling a sense of peace while in Saint-Thurney, even with a World War being waged around you and the town being occupied.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." You added softly, stopping beside Remi's General Store. "This is the place!" You declared, waving your hand at the store's front windows, plastered with advertisements for goods he sold inside, several crate displays lined the bottom of one window. "You'll like Remi, he's super sweet." You smiled, reaching out for the door handle, only to have Gus beat you to it.

"Allow me." He purred, pulling it open and standing aside, for you to go in first. "Only proper for your fiancé to open it for you."

You gulped, biting the inside of your lip. "Right." You nodded, clearing your throat. "You're right."

Composing yourself, you went inside, finding Remi at the only register with one of the residents, Mrs. Moulin, the Mayor's wife. They looked up at you and smiled, before their expressions twisted into apprehensive confusion, spotting Gus coming in behind you.

"Morning, Remi. Mrs. Moulin." You greeted them cheerily, while trying to keep casual, like there was nothing out of the ordinary for Gus to be there with you.

"Good morning." Mrs. Moulin addressed you, her eyes still on Gus, as if she expected him to lash out at everyone.

"Who is this?" Remi asked, ignoring his manners, unlike her.

"This is Gus." You grinned brightly, looking back at him and your breath catching in your throat at the feeling of him taking your hand. "He's my fiancé." You declared, heart racing in your chest.

Both Remi and Mrs. Moulin looked floored at the announcement, particularly Remi, who you had worked for for several years and knew you'd never mentioned having a male suitor. Let alone a fiancé! So, selling Remi on Gus being your betrothed was going to be one of the other hurdles you faced, on top of the Patrol and Director General.

"When did this happen?" Remi snapped, dumbfounded and looking almost outraged. "You never mentioned anything!"

Gus rested his free hand on the small of your back, his eyes taking the other man in, sizing him up. "Keeping me your own little secret, Peanut?" He asked, a sparkle coming into his eyes as he looked at you, bashfully.

A zing shot through you, hearing him call by your nickname, your skin breaking out in goosebumps. "I have been." You smirked, bashfully turning your face into his bicep.

"How did the two of you meet?" Remi asked, continuing his interrogation.

"We knew each other from before she moved here." Gus answered, surprising you on how casually he came up with the fabricated detail. "I reached out to her just after I enlisted, and well, I proposed to her a year ago." He stated, smiling at you and caressing your back with his thumb. "Thankfully, she said, yes."

"Would you have gotten yourself shot sooner, if I said no?" You teased him back, getting lost in the moment.

Gus grinned at you, amused, but he felt something deeper. "Definitely." He nodded slowly, his blue eyes soft.

Mrs. Moulin gasped, crossing herself. "You were shot?"

"Yes, madam. I was." Gus replied, tipping his head politely to her. "That's the reason I'm here, and not back in Belgium; fighting." He stated, lightly touching his wound. "This lovely gem is taking care of me." He cooed, touching his thumb to your chin with a wink, making your knees a little weak.

"I thank you, sir." Mrs. Moulin said, straighten her petite body, then glanced around the group. "Fighting those damn Nazis."

Your mouth fell open, surprised to hear the ordinarily prim and proper lady, curse. "Mrs. Moulin." You mumbled, in a state of shock.

"Well, it's true!" She huffed at you, gathering up her grocery bags. "I'm sick of them being in my town, marching about, like they own it."

"I'd be careful with what you say, Mrs. Moulin." Remi warned, as she moved for the door. "You never know who you can trust." He said, eyeing Gus.

"Luckily, everyone here is trustworthy." You chimed, with confused surprise. "Have a good day, Mrs. Moulin. Say hello to the Mayor for me."

"Oh, I will, my dear." She answered, reaching out to rest her hand on your arm, looking between you and Gus. "You make a beautiful couple. You must let my brother, Zane, marry you when the time comes." She said, with a sweet smile.

Your cheeks blazed at her words. "We'll put him at the top of consideration." You promised her, offering her your own soft smile.

"Good." She nodded, patting your arm and gave Gus a cheeky wink, before scuttling out the door.

"Do I have a shift this week, Rem?" You asked, turning your attention back to your boss, who hadn't taken his judging eyes off of you.

"I haven't gone over the schedule yet this week." He answered, gruffly. "So, I'll have to let you know."

"All right." You nodded, feeling the cold coming off of him in waves. "Well, I have a bit of shopping to do for the house." You said, trying to shrug it off as Remi's reluctance to trust with the uncertainty of war, having lost both his brothers.

Gus stepped away from you, to grab a small hand basket from the stack by the door, holding it for you as you puttered around the modest aisles and freezers, grabbing a few items and placing them in the basket.

"Everything is so bare." He commented, watching you grab a box of oatmeal, only one of four on the scarce shelf.

"We're being rationed." You replied, sighing as you tucked a box of dry pasta in with the rest of your groceries. "Remi only gets a shipment of things once a week to stock the shelves. If you want something and don't get here early enough for it..." You trailed off, shrugging your shoulders dismissively.

“Suppose, being enlisted for so long, I’ve been a bit blind to the tribulations of civilians.” Gus frowned, his brow creasing heavily. “Not that I didn’t know about rationing. I just didn’t…” He shook his head, a hardness coming into his blue eyes. “Damned Nazis.” He growled, rolling his jaw.

You rested your hand on his elbow, looking up at him with a soft expression. “It is what it is, Gus.” You told him, quietly. “But it will change. We’ll beat them and everything will go back to how it should.”

“As it should.” He echoed, meeting your eye for a long moment.

What will happen after the War ends? No matter who wins. I’ll have to go back to the Army. I’ll have to leave her. Could I come back after my service? Would you want me to come back? Could I…

He shook his head hard, trying to shove the thoughts away. It was delusional to think such things, he was getting too involved and attached. He needed to keep a barrier between the two of you, to protect you against the danger he presented as an officer of the British Army.

“Well, what’s for dinner?” He asked, forcing that wall back up and peeking into the basket he carried for you.

“Um..” You cocked a brow at the basket’s contents taking stock of it and what you knew was at home. “I could make a simple stew. Wouldn’t be too much, but it would be something in our bellies.”

“I have faith in your cooking abilities.” Gus smiled, the sparkle coming back into his eyes.

“Kind of you.” You giggled shyly. “I think that's about all we need.” You said, biting your lip and glancing about the modest shop. “We can get rung up.” You smiled, heading towards Remi at the register. “How’s your Mum, Rem?” You asked, as he slowly added up everything in your basket.

Remi’s mother had suffered great shock at the loss of her two older sons, Duncan and Andre, who had enlisted and been shipped off to the thick of the war. Duncan had died in the Battle of Crete, taking shrapnel that nicked a serious artery and bled to death before anyone could do anything for him. The most tragic though, was Andre. His squad was ambushed by a German one and overtaken. It had been a hard time for many in the town, when they received the telegraph informing them of Andre officially being MIA. Every time Remi’s mother was seen, she was balling her eyes out and lamenting, prophesying that he too would die as her oldest did.

Two months later though, another telegraph arrived informing them that Andre had been found alive, but being held in a German Prisoner of War camp. His mother was relieved to hear he was alive, however she was still devastated to hear of his situation. Andre survived for a while in the camp. Two whole years, to be exact. But the fated telegraph ultimately arrived, one blustery day, and practically the entire town heard her screaming.

So, in that sense, you and Remi had developed a friendship based on an understanding of parents with mental health issues, inflicted by wars in some way.

“She’s doing all right.” Remi answered, not looking up from his task.

You blinked at him, ordinarily he would elaborate on how his mother was doing when you asked, even if nothing had changed about her. But you realized quickly where his reluctance came from, feeling Gus shift beside you.

Men. You rolled your eyes.

“Can I have Willa’s usual as well?” You asked, ignoring the thick air between Gus and Remi.

“Sure.” Remi nodded, half turning on his heels to grab the red and white, Rose Tip box and tucked it into the bag. “I’ll put this on your tab.” He said, setting it in your reach.

“Thanks.” You smiled uneasily at him, as Gus scooped the bag up and tucked it carefully against his good side. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” You told him, before leaving the shop and tracing your steps back home.

“What’s wrong?” Gus inquired, glancing down at you.

“Nothing.” You informed him, licking your lips and shaking your head. “Guess he’s just having a rough day.” You brushed it off.

Gus moved out of the cellar and into the cramped guest room upstairs, nothing separating the two of you now, but the wall of your closet. The two of you agreed it was much more agreeable to have him there than the cellar in the event the Patrol and the Inspector returned. They know doubt would, their suspension of Gus was all too obvious. It would also be more comfortable for him in the guestroom, giving him a softer bed, the luxury of sunlight and fresh air from the window that overlooked the back garden. As well as the beach, beyond the garden wall.

But as Gus healed and regained his strength again, he knew he had to find a way back to his men, and the war. He had to find out what happened to his men, if they were still alive. How he was to do that, was another matter altogether.

The last thing he recalled of the group was infiltrating a Nazi Intelligence Camp to rescue one of their own, Geoffrey Appleyard. They had gotten into the camp and things had gone well. He and his second hand man, Anders Lassen, moved smoothly together before nodding at each other and Gus looked back to Henry Hayes, jerking his head for the younger man to follow him. They moved swiftly through the camp, taking Nazis out left and right and making the camp practically useless for any that tried to use it again; with Freddy Alvarez setting up a plethora of explosives as a finishing touch.

Gus was proud of his men. No one had been seriously injured, beyond a handful of scratches. It had been one of their best in and out missions in the two years the unofficial, rag-tag group had been put together. That alone should have given Gus a measure of paranoia.

Missions should never go so easily.

The shot rang out and everyone in the group tensed, the jolly celebration that filled them instantly vanished as they dropped their looted goods and scrambled for their weapons, pulling out guns and bows. Gus hated being caught by surprise, especially by damned Nazis. He gritted his teeth, returning fire, while trying to assess the situation. They were a mile and a half from shore, where their boat was waiting to take them back to the safety of Allied Lines. There was a sparse covering of forest between them and their extraction point, that could give them some shelter. As much as Gus March-Phillippss hated being surprised, he hated running. But hearing Anders call out that there were too many and ammo was running low, Gus gave the signal to retreat to the boat, taking up the rear to ensure none of his men lagged behind.

It was him that lagged behind.

He felt the hot burn of lead piercing his side, faltering only momentarily, his eyes focused on the back of Lassen’s head, breath from his lungs starting to wheeze in his throat and his vision spot. Gus’s memory skipped in and out from there, like a scratched record. Spotting the boat ahead of the group and urging them forward, the heat of blood soaking into his clothing and his knees feeling like jelly. He couldn’t recall if he made it to or onto the boat with the others, then somehow fell overboard, or something more happened.

There were dark bits lurking in his mind of freezing cold enveloping him, no doubt of him in the Channel.

“Your father’s very into following the movements of the War.” Gus said one morning, sipping a cup of coffee as the two of you finished breakfast.

“He is.” You nodded.

“Does he only follow the major events or…” He trailed off, meeting your eye.

“No, he follows whatever is reported on or gossiped about in newspapers and the radio.” You replied, sensing his intent and sudden interest in your father’s hobby. “Why?” You asked, cautiously.

“I need to know what happened to my men.” Gus told you, bluntly and honestly. “I have to know if they’re still alive, dead or in prisoner of war camps. Perhaps your father has some information that could be useful to me, on that front.”

“How?” You shook your head, confused.

“I was injured during a mission.” He divulged to you, in a low voice. “It wasn’t an official or authorized mission, but there might be a possibility of it being reported on.” He cast an eye over his shoulder to the sitting room, where your father lounged in his usual spot. “Do you think he’d discuss it with me?”

You snorted at him and lifted your tea cup to your lips. “Do I think so? It’s more a matter of getting him to quit, once you get him going.” You said, taking a deep gulp of the rich, brown liquid. “But, yes.” You nodded, assuring him. “I’m sure my father would likely share any information he has on the War with you. Just wait until later in the morning. He likes to nap after breakfast, and he’ll be more receptive and energetic about the subject.”

“Excellent.” Gus smiled, patting your arm. “Would you like to go on a walk with me, to pass the time?”

“I think that would be quite agreeable.” You cooed, finishing off your tea.

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stedefxckingbonnet · 6 months

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PLEASE WRITE BEING IZZY'S LOVER (gn) AND IZZY ACTUALLY SURVIVED BECAUSE IDK THEY EITHER MISSED OR THE LOVER MANAGED TO SAVE HIM OR ANYTHING I JUST NEED TO SAVE THIS MAN 😭🙏

I GOT YOU!!! Here's my little fix-it fic, all! Writing this made me feel a bit better because my god I finally brought myself to watching the finale even after knowing all that happened already and wow I was not okay. But perhaps this fic is me turning poison into positivity in my own way? Yeah. Yeah! I'll leave it at that :) This one is a bit shorter but, it's short and sweet, I thinl!

I didn't really want to recount the battle itself, just more-so the aftermath, so please keep that in mind whilst reading in case it feels like I dove in a bit too suddenly and quickly!

Keep the requests coming, all! I love you all so, so dearly.

Love,

Lavinia

My Favorite | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: light angst (but there's fluff GALORE and it ends happily, i swear!), some strong language, brief mentions of being shot, tending to an injury/mentions of injury (non-graphic descriptions)

Word Count: 1481

In your periphery, you couldn't help but notice Izzy suddenly hunched over, clutching his stomach. Everyone else managed to continue charging forward with their weapons, but you had other plans, and knew that both you and Izzy would be better for it. You rushed over to him without any hesitation, slinging his arm around you gently as you ushered him back to the ship as quickly as you could. His breathing staggered and the sound of it motivated you to move even faster.

You managed to rush him back to your quarters; in case the rest of the crew came stumbling onto The Revenge again, you would be able to focus on the most important mission of your life—helping Izzy Hands survive.

"I'm alright, love," Izzy breathed out, looking up at you as you cleaned the wound and prepared to bandage it.

"Clearly, you aren't," you laughed sadly, fighting back tears as you worked.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he sighed as he spotted you scrambling all over the place, very clearly in a panic about all of this. You so badly wanted to stop right there and scold him. You didn't have to do this? Was he fucking kidding? Of course you had to do this, you wanted to do this. You wanted him to be okay, needed him to be. You wanted to take away the harm brought upon him. You wanted to see him live another day and many, many more. You craved to see him go on to send you another one of his not-so-discreet-anymore smiles that got you through the toughest of times. You don't have to do this? How could he be so foolish? He was by far the most intelligent aboard the ship and yet, he still managed to say such a silly thing.

"Did you hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you," you almost seethed. "And once again, I will be ignoring your request."

"You manage to go and do that so much and yet, you're still my favorite," he weakly shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling and laughed under his breath.

You stopped in your tracks, for just a moment. You figured you could—Izzy was all patched up and all that was left to do was sit with him and make sure the bleeding stops and give him food, water, anything else he needed, and you were beyond happy to do so. You needed to be sure he was okay. But what he had just admitted to you earned quite a bit of a shock from you, a shock you couldn't quite process running all around the room. "I'm your favorite?"

He laughed once again, coughing immediately after and reaching to clutch his abdomen once again. You immediately sat down beside him, not realizing you had started to gently touch his cheek. "Isn't that fucking obvious? Everyone else sure as hell knows it."

You couldn't help but laugh yourself. "I guess? I don't know. You're my favorite too, you know."

"Oh, don't bother lying just because I'm injured," Izzy teased, reaching out to flick you in the arm.

"I'm not lying!" you threw your hands up in a playful surrender. "I mean it, Izzy. You know I do. And I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you..." and with that, the tears began to spill out. Izzy knew there was no use trying to sit up, but he was able to extend his arm around you.

"I signed up for this," he shrugged.

"As long as I'm around, you are not dying any fucking time soon. Okay? You got that?"

Izzy's lips formed a smirk. "I love it when you get feisty."

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you giggled. Though suddenly, your expression hardened, and even Izzy noticed you were about to say something of the serious vein. "You really scared me back there, Iz."

Izzy could only sigh—he knew that none of the words he could muster would be enough to relieve you just yet, or even at all. And what was he supposed to say, anyway? That he was sorry he let himself get shot? Sorry that he didn't immediately seek help? Sorry that you had to see that? That he was so fucking exhausted of the life he's made for himself after all?

You made your way over to the foot of the bed, carefully sitting and stroking his leg. "I'm sorry," you suddenly lamented.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You just really scared me. I didn't want to lose you but I don't want you feeling bad about it either because it wasn't your fault you got hurt," you sighed, averting your eyes from his gaze.

Izzy slowly sat up, rubbing your upper back before gently wrapping his arm around you and resting his head upon your shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. I promise."

"I know," you exhaled. "I just...I could have lost you, and that thought absolutely haunts me every time we raid or duel or see another ship at all, or even just roam about the Republic of Pirates, but I know this is your life and what you're used to and I would never yank you away from—"

"I don't want any of it anymore," Izzy suddenly admitted. "I'm tired. So fucking tired. And I don't even know how many wounds my body can take anymore."

You laughed sadly, craning your head over to look at him once again. Even after the years of suffering and pain that remained on his face at times, he was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. And, he was healing as of late—you could see that, everyone could see that. "Well, what are you saying? And no, it isn't obvious—"

"I want to live," Izzy assured you. "But not this life. A different one."

"What would that look like to you?"

"I don't know," he whispered, almost ashamed of this answer.

"It's okay not to know. I'm up for anything as long as you are right there beside me," you reassured him as you planted a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

"Really? You'll stay with me?" Izzy asked in disbelief.

"I love you, Izzy. You. Not because you're Blackbeard's first mate, not because you're a pirate. Because you're you. You're Israel Hands. You are clever and caring and proud and you have so much else to offer this world, away from the sea. Beyond all this."

Izzy lifted his arms up from his sides, wincing as he did so, his hands flying back to his abdomen. You smiled softly as you ever so carefully wrapped your arms around him, making sure not to squeeze so tight. One of your hands made its way up to the back of his head as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. You suddenly heard him whimpering and it brought tears to your own eyes. At last, he spoke. "Fuck you."

You couldn't help but giggle as you sat back up once again.

"I love you," Izzy spoke sincerely, hoping with every part of him that this came across. By now, your face was in his hands, and he looked at you in such a way that truly did confirm his tenderness, his endless adoration that he reserved for you and only you.

You knew exactly the response he was searching for. He knew that you had love for him already—you were never exactly subtle about it. And he never exactly minded it. "I know that, Iz. I promise you."

"Suppose we should say goodbye to everyone?"

"We will. I just want to be here with you right now."

"I wouldn't mind that."

You lay down beside Izzy, draping your arm over his chest as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He hums happily as you do, and he instantly settles into the warmth you provide. Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and even in your dreams, Izzy Hands is there and you are together and you are living without fear and judgment, and the only thing you're stressing about is what to make for breakfast that day even though he'll always mumble, "Anything will do, darling." Perhaps whatever life the two of you should lead will come to you in your dreams and you will eagerly share these ideas once you awaken. In this moment, you were just grateful to get to spend the rest of your life with none other than him, and it almost didn't matter what endeavors you embarked on alongside one another from this moment forward. You finished the ditty Izzy was humming before you succumbed to the sweet dreams he wished upon you, and you looked forward to your dreams that were about to come true in just a few hours.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #ofmd s2 #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #fix it fic #fix it au #izzy is alive and well wdym?#fluff #light angst #requests open #keep the requests coming #please request #established relationship

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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months

Text

Fluffcember Day 14 | Popping your cherry

Pairing | Roommate!Experienced!Ransom Drysdale x Roommate!Virgin!Fem!Reader

Word count | 1.9K

Summary | You're just coming home from the worst date, but it's good that your roommate, Ransom, is there to cheer you up. After a long talk with him, you confess you've only been looking for someone willing to take your virginity, and that's when Ransom steps in and is more than happy to help you do just that.

Rating | Mature (M)

Warning(s) | Use of a pet name (Sweets), soft!Ransom, Reader's age is mentioned once.

Angst | Light angst, Reader went on a bad date.

Smut | Taking virginity, fingering, protected sex, lots of praise.

A/n | This one-shot is written for day 14 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. I always have a blast when writing for Ransom, so I can't wait to see what you all think of this! Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one 🎄

Events Masterlist | Roommate AU | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Date gone wrong | @anyfandomkinkbingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: The owner

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist | Read on AO3

Honestly, you're not entirely sure where you went wrong during your date because you were having fun. More than him, apparently.

Because when you offered to go to one of your places, he made a weak excuse about his cat or something and stormed off.

So now, here you are, in a taxi back to your apartment, still frustrated that seemingly no one wants to help you with your problem.

You're about to finish college, and you're still a virgin. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but you feel like you've been missing out on a fantastic experience based on how everyone around you always talks about it.

What you should have seen, however, is that the one person closest to you is more than willing to help you out if you ask. Your roommate, Ransom, has been there each time to pick you up after your dates have gone wrong, and it's killing him.

''Hi Sweets, how was it?'' Ransom asks as you walk in the door, but you're too ashamed to tell him how it went. Again.

Instead of answering Ransom, you storm off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you before slipping off the sad excuse you call a dress and putting on some sweats and one of Ransom's sweaters.

When your hair is in a messy ponytail, and your make-up is off, you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud sigh, and as if he could sense it, Ransom knocks on your door.

''Can I come in? I brought your favorite tea,'' Ransom says, his voice soft and gentle, which warms you from the inside. Despite that, you want to curl up into a ball, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

''Go away!'' you say, and keeping yourself from breaking down is challenging. Tears are fighting their way out, and you manage to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the worst of the sob.

''Alright, I'm coming in,'' he says, swinging the door open, quickly walking over to your bed and putting the cup of tea and a small bowl of your favorite chocolates onto your nightstand.

''Hey, what's going on? C'mere,'' he says as he sits on your bed and pulls you into his lap. He's seated with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of himself.

His left hand is resting on the side of your head as you cry with long sobs against his chest, his right hand rubbing soft circles on your waist and hip to calm you down a little bit.

''It's okay, Sweets, I'm here with you. You're okay,'' he whispers in your hair as he keeps placing soft kisses in your hair to reinforce his words, effectively calming you down.

After nearly 30 minutes, you've finally calmed down enough, and you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, sniffling a few times before removing your head from his chest and looking at him.

''Hi beautiful girl,'' Ransom says with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Even when you feel like an absolute mess, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and he's lucky that you're here in his arms.

''I'm not beautiful,'' you mumble, but Ransom laughs softly, his white teeth exposed as you hear the chuckle escape his lips.

''You are beautiful, Sweets. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that says a lot because I have seen many of them. But none of them compare to you and your beauty,'' he tells you.

He strokes a few loose hairs behind your ear, and his knuckles slide over your jaw as he pulls his hand back. He leaves a trail of goosebumps behind, and a shiver runs down your spine.

''Are you willing to tell me what's on your mind?'' he asks, his eyes shooting from yours to your plump lips and back. He can never get enough of your beauty, and he will always get lost in the color of your eyes.

''Men are stupid,'' you say as you let yourself drop against his chest again, with a deep sigh this time. His arms wrap around you, and you pull your knees up to your chest so he can hold you close.

''Except you, of course, you're not stupid,'' you quickly say, and Ransom chuckles.

''I'm glad you said that; I almost started to worry!'' he jokes, a genuine laugh forming deep inside his chest, once again warming you from the inside out.

''This guy I went on a date with is stupid, though,'' you sigh, and Ransom tilts his head to look at you with a quirked brow, wondering for more information.

''I was asking if we should go here or to his place because I enjoyed myself, and I thought he did too, but he made up some shitty excuse about his cat, and here we are…'' you tell him, and Ransom pulls you a little tighter to his body.

''His loss,'' Ransom shrugs, and you sigh again as you cuddle up into his chest, reveling in his warmth. You found yourself in your happy place, and you're not planning on going any time soon.

''Sweets? Why do you go on so many dates to begin with? It's just curiosity, not judging you or anything,'' Ransom asks later that night.

You two have moved to lay under your duvet, and your head is lying on his chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Your hand splayed out over his abdomen, your leg thrown over his.

His left arm is wrapped around you and is on your ribcage, moving slowly up and down with your breaths. His other arm is folded underneath his head, and he stares at the ceiling as his thoughts go a mile a minute.

''Well, everyone keeps telling me how amazing it was to lose their virginity at 16 years old and stuff, and here I am, nearly 26 and still a virgin! So, well... I've figured I'd take matters into my own hands, but so far, no one has been willing to do it...'' you sigh out, shutting your eyes tightly as you're trying not to be so embarrassed.

''Huh,'' Ransom mumbles. It takes a little while to come up with an idea, and he hopes you'll also be into it.

''What about me?'' he suddenly asks, and your head shoots up to meet his gaze.

''What about you?'' you ask, though you're pretty sure you know what he's getting at with his question.

''If you're sure you want to lose your virginity, I am more than okay with doing that. But only if you are, too. If not, we can drop it and never talk about it again,'' he tells you, but that isn't necessary.

''A-are you... I mean... You'd do that for me?'' you ask, a little unsure now, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. There's no one in your life who you'd trust more than Ransom.

''Of course, Sweets. I'd do anything for you,'' he tells you before he guides you off of him, and he crawls over you, effectively caging you in.

''Ransom, please...'' you beg softly, and that's all he needs to know what you want. He leans down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss that takes your breath away, and you need more.

Your tongue slides over his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to grant you access, your hand sliding into his hair to pull him impossibly closer.

His lower half is leaning on yours, and you can feel how hard he is right now as he's throbbing in his pants from the anticipation of what's about to happen. He'll be your first; after this, he plans never to let you go.

You moan softly as his hips start rolling against yours, and Ransom can't help but smile into the kiss before letting go and sitting on his knees, looking at you.

''I need words before I move on, Sweets. Because I need you to know that if we go through with this, you'll be mine, and I'm not letting you go. If you want me to stop at any point, you can tell me, and we can stop, no strings attached,'' he tells you, but you want him. Now.

''Yes, Ransom. Please take my virginity and make me yours. All I want is to be yours,'' you tell him, now almost getting impatient.

Within no time, you're both completely bare, and Ransom has sunk two of his long, thick fingers into your entrance, moving slowly to get you adjusted to the size of them.

''R-Ransom, I'm close!'' you tell him as he curls his fingers, the tension inside you building more and more, ready to snap. All you need is for him to give some love to your clit, and you'll fall over the edge, but he wants you to say it.

''What do you need, Sweets? Tell me, and I'll let you come,'' he says with a mischievous smile, and you groan in response.

''Need you to rub my clit!'' you tell him, and he obeys immediately, making you fall over the edge almost instantly.

''Look at you cumming for me; look so good for me, Sweets. Such a good girl,'' he grumbles out, and it only makes you even more horny, needing to feel him inside you.

Ransom grabs a condom from seemingly out of nowhere, but you're not thinking about that. All you're focused on right now is how big he is because it doesn't even stand up against his abdomen from how heavy and large it is.

It's amazing. And about to fit all inside you.

''Are you ready for me, Sweets? I'll go slow, I promise,'' he says as he leans forward after putting the condom on, capturing your lips with his as he lines up with your entrance.

''Yes, Ransom, I'm ready,'' you tell him, and your hands are on his biceps, squeezing softly when you feel his tip. It's a strange but pleasurable feeling, and the groan leaving Ransom's throat tells you everything you need to know.

Slowly but surely, he thrusts into you, keeping his gaze on your face at all times, ensuring that if you're hurt, he'll stop immediately. It's a good thing there's nothing but pleasure visible on your face because you're somewhere north of heaven right now.

With a loud moan, you feel him slide into the hilt, and your back arches, pressing your chest against his. You've never felt so full but never want this feeling to end.

''R-Ransom, it feels so good,'' you tell him, and he can't help but smile because he feels the same. He has never felt so damn good before.

When you've gotten used to feeling him inside you, he slowly starts to move, hitting your sweet spot after a few experimental thrusts, and it has you seeing stars. You wrap your legs around his hips, effectively pulling him even closer.

''You feel so good around me, Sweets, such a perfect, tight pussy for me to ruin,'' he growls in your ear, making you moan in response. It doesn't take long for both of you to cum, and when he's done, he pulls out carefully to let himself fall to the side.

''How're you feeling, Sweets?''

''Perfect,'' you tell him with a lovesick grin. It was everything you dreamt of and more. It was heaven.

#fluffcember 2023 #day 14 #knives out #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut

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