#me: is shocked that he did everything he said he’d do and acted like himself

[livinginshambles]

I'll reschedule | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.

Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao

Part one Masterlist

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James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.

You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!

“I can’t, I’m-“

“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.

‘Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.

He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.

James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.

“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.

“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”

“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.

Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.

‘Count to ten, Y/N.’

James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.

The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.

James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.

“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.

James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.

He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.

It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.

“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.

James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.

You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.

Everything was really not fine.

“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.

James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“

Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.

“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.

You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.

You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.

Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.

“That mean I can come in?”

You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”

“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.

“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”

‘Doubtful,’ you thought.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.

‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.

And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.

Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.

Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”

“I need to talk to you, privately.”

“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”

“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.

“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.

“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.

A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.

“It’s my fault.”

Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.

“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.

“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”

“I am.”

Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.

“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”

“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”

You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.

“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.

“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.

“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.

“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”

It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”

You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”

“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.

“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”

“Try ginormous.”

Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”

A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.

You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.

Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.

“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.

He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.

James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.

“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.

“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.

“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.

“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.

Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.

You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.

You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.

He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.

Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.

“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.

“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.

“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.

James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.

“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.

“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.

You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.

“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”

“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.

“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.

“You have it with you now?”

Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”

You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.

“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”

Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.

James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.

Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.

About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.

“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.

“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.

“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.

James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.

“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”

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[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn

[planeteroticaaa]

— ALL MINE

(part of erotica’s & lovae’s valentines special💋)

ice hockeyplayer!jean who walked around the campus with the many gifts and trinkets various girls gave him, each one wishing him good luck for the big game today. he didn’t care about the chocolates, teddy bears, or the other stupid shit they gave him. hell, he didn’t even bother reading the love letters. none of it meant anything to him when he had to figure out an over the top way to make you his valentines because not only were you his soulmate and the one he’s supposed to grow old with, but he needed to win you back.

he walked past your lecture hall like he did everyday on his way to his own, thinking about how he used to be late to his own class trying to walk you to yours. it never mattered to him seeing as he always made up for it by participating in class and getting high grades on assignments. he didn’t know why he still poked his head inside the room to see if you were there. he tells himself and his friends that it’s to make sure you “got to class safely”, but in reality, he knows nothing’s gonna happen to you in the 5 to 6 minute walk from the dining hall to your lecture. truth be told, he really just wanted to see you. since the two of you broke up, you avoided him like the plague, but he knew you would have no choice but to see him when he’d visit the room you were in daily, using the fact that one of his teammates was in the same class as you.

though today was different because right when he was about to go into the room, he watched that very teammate ask you out with flowers and chocolates. he glared, scoffing watching you act all “excited” about candies you hated and flowers that weren’t even your favorite. it took everything in him to stop himself from going in there and breaking his jaw when you kissed his cheek and hugged him with your arms around his neck and his on your waist. how would you feel watching him kiss a girl after reading her love declaration?! it was even worse knowing he would have to play with him later today. the whole team knew he was still obsessed with you, especially this guy since he always teased jean about it so what fuck was he doing asking you out?

he thought about it the entire day. he knew that many guys were interested in you, but he didn’t think somebody would actually be bold enough to do something about their feelings. he had on his gear, ready for the final game of the season. his coach’s words of motivation went in one ear and out the other as he stared down his smug ass teammate. as everyone started to hype themselves up with different handshakes and chants, jean remained quiet, even bumping his shoulder going past him. his final straw was seeing you cheering at the game, just, not for him. you screamed that asshole’s name, your friends alongside you all happy about your possible new relationship and when he winked at you, jean tackled him onto the ice.

he knew he was in a world of trouble now once he got on top of him. he grabbed the collar of his shirt and began punching him, not stopping when the guy managed to get situated and got a few hits in, or when the security rushed over, or when he heard his coach yelling at him from the side. he had slight bruising on his cheek, his lip was bleeding, his knuckles were scratched up when he threw his gloves off, and he was being penalized and cussed out by his coach, but it was worth seeing you stare at him with your mouth gaped open. your more confused than pissed face said, “did you seriously just do that?” and the wink he gave you with the smirk on his lips while his coach spat in his face said, “yeah, and i’d do it a thousand times over.”

he wasn’t shocked when you went home right after the incident. he was hoping to talk to you once the game was over, but it worked out since it gave him time to buy the snacks and sweets you actually liked, flowers that were actually your favorite, and prepare his “i’m sorry, please take me back” speech. he originally wanted to do something crazy to show his never ending love, but it was clear after today he had no time to waste. with a done up basket, pretty flowers, and a speech he recited under his breath on the way to the door, he was ready though when he knocked on your front door and you opened it wearing his spare jersey he thought he lost with nothing visibly under it, arms crossed over your chest and leaning against the door frame with a disapproving look on your face, everything he planned to say left him at that very second. “well?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “gimme another chance?” he asked, an unsure grin on his pretty, bandaged face. you looked him up and down and just sighed before grabbing him by his shirt collar and dragging him inside the room.

“s-shit baby…you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, his head thrown back on your pillow, big, veiny hands on your hips as you bounced yourself on his cock with your hands back behind you on his strong thighs. you almost forgot how big and girthy his dick was, the stretch burning you when you first sat down on it after months of nothing and guys that were no match to him. “look so beautiful riding me like that,” he said mostly to himself, staring up at you with lust blown pupils, taking in the blissful expressions you made and the softness of your breast as he massaged them under the jersey.

fuck, it felt amazing, the veins running along his length grazing your walls, the curve ensuring the fat tip hit you right where you needed it, the thickness of it giving you that same delicious burn from before that had your legs about to give out, the ring of white cream you made at the base of his cock dripping down his balls, ass sticking to his pelvis from your mixed, gluey essences. you were getting tired and he could tell you were with how you occasionally didn’t bounce, but instead rocked your hips with your nails digging into his skin and biting down on your bottom lip.

he watched you, wondering when you’d quit being stubborn and admit you need help as he moved his hands all over your body, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist, harshly slapping your ass. he hadn’t had you like this in months, dick inside your tight walls making a mess all over him and whatever surface was beneath you. how long had it been since you fucked somebody? he hadn’t done anything to any woman since you’d broken up, even going as far to tell them that he was still with you. well, it didn’t matter, he could tell from the whimpers and whines that left your lips as your desperately rode him to continue that sensation of his cock bruising your cervix that if anybody fucked you, it wasn’t like this.

it was when your pace significantly slowed down that he sighed and pulled you down to him. your arms immediately wrapped around his neck like you were waiting for him to do this as he propped his feet into the bed sheets. with his hands on your ass, spreading it apart, he started to thrust up into your pussy. you screamed, eyes rolling back as his fat cock dragged in and out of you, balls slapping against you from the fast, rough change in pace. you could tell much he missed you from the way he hugged you close to him while making you cream in his cock. “yes! j-jean—yes, just like that, don’t stop!” you cried out, drool dripping down your chin as he fucked you further through your orgasm, overstimulating your pussy when he reached a hand down to rub harsh circles on your puffy, throbbing clit.

“missed you so much, baby,” jean grunted, the speed of his thrust into your pussy not letting up. “i—i missed you too! missed you so much,” you cried, moving your head from its spot in the crook of your neck to look him in his light brown eyes. your lips soon met his, tongue hastily pushing inside his mouth and swirling along his after such a long time without one another. everything was messy, saliva coating both of your chins, the liquids from your previous orgasms painting the bedsheets and allowing him to better fuck up into you with ease, the thin layer of sweat that covered your bodies sticking the two of you together.

“please, please, please fill me up,” you babbled incoherently, begging when you felt his cock start twitching inside your tight, gummy walls. his thrust became rougher, the broken, but rough and intense rhythm of his mushroom tip hitting everywhere you needed it too taking you to the brink of another orgasm. “imma fill your pretty pussy with my cum…she’s missed me so much, hasn’t she?” “yes! s-so much!” you gasped, eyes in the back of your head and body jerking as you started creaming all over him again. “i’m cumming! ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, fuckkk!” you practically sobbed, pussy gushing. your walls spasmed around his cock, making him pump your insides with his hot, thick, ropes of cum.

you felt it leak out of your abused hole as he continued to fuck and overstimulating the two of you through your orgasms to the point you were crying and he was biting down on your shoulder with his eyes rolled back. you continued to fill the room with the most filthy noises, the sweet squelching sound from you pussy echoing and the slapping of your skin on his being all that you could hear once he had you seeing stars because he didn’t stop, even when he was about to cry from the overwhelming feeling himself. he was just too scared to lose you again.

#planeteroticaaa #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader smut #attack on titan x reader smut #jean kirstein #jean smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader smut #jean x reader smut #attack on titan jean #aot jean #attack on titan jean kirstein #aot jean kirstein #connie springer #eren yeager #armin arlert #levi ackerman #ice hockey #valentinesevent #valentines day #smut #reiner braun #hockey player au

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

So Wrong, Yet so Right

TW/CW: MDNI/ 18+. Step bro Geto x Gojo x Reader. Stepcest. AFAB Reader. Slightly dubcon, dirty talk, spit kink, praise, degradation, oral (m giving, m receiving, f giving, f receiving), Geto and Gojo action, fingering (vaginal, anal) vaginal sex, anal sex, DP, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, pwp, filth. Pure absolute filth. (If there’s anything else that should be added, please bring it to my attention)

NSFW below 🤭

Suguru absolutely 100% did NOT plan on spending his evening trying desperately to drown out the sounds of his step sister being fucked by his best friend. No, he figured him and Satoru could finally have some down time and actually hang out. But you just had to show up. Suguru almost didn’t let you in, rolling his eyes when you showed up, but if he told you to go home he knew he’d hear it from Satoru.

Suguru had been about 90% sure he wasn’t into women, having fallen head over heels for his white haired best friend back in their teen years, but then his dad remarried and you came in, like a steam roller. There was something about you that just, did something to him, but of course he never acted on it, you were younger than him, and he was your STEP sibling. How vile would that be?

But it didn’t take long until you hit your twenties, blossoming into an adult,and Suguru couldn’t take it anymore. The way your fingers would dance on his arm when you laughed at something he said would make his dick jump in his pants. How absolutely adorable you’d look, shuffling out of your room in the morning, wrapped in a blanket, yawning consistently until you had a cup of coffee, it simply took his breath away. And when your parents were gone, and he could hear the lewd noises you made, drove him crazy. He knew he could do a better job than your fingers, and you’d certainly feel better than his hand. Countless times has he gotten off to the sound of you, biting down on a knuckle as he came to muffle his groans.

So when Satoru offered Suguru a room in his house, Suguru jumped at the chance. Plus he was in his mid twenties now, and needed to leave the nest. He can support himself with his job, but Satoru already said he didn’t have to worry about money, since he was practically bathing in the stuff.

And so he departed, perhaps he could finally work up the nerve to tell Satoru how he felt. Suguru knew he swung both ways, but he was always so worried about damaging their friendship, that he kept his feelings to himself. Sometimes he asked himself if he was fucked up. How could he want both his best friend, and his step sister.

So suffice to say, he was a fair bit shocked when he answered the door a week later and you were standing there.

“Sugu!!!!” You had gushed, practically leaping into his arms for a hug. “I missed ya so much!”

“You should have texted me, I would have-“

“Oh shit yeah, my bad, I figured Satoru would have let you know I was coming.” You had cut him off, chewing on your lip.

“Huh?” Geto had questioned. He knew you and Satoru were friendly, always getting along when he had come over. You’d often join them to hang out, and Suguru knew you’d sometimes meet up with Satoru for a coffee.

“Anyways,” you had ignored his puzzled look, kicking your shoes off, and taking your jacket off. “I’m gonna head upstairs, I’ll see you later Sugu.”

Suguru watched you head upstairs, already knowing how to get there, before also heading upstairs and heading to his room. He laid down on his bed, processing everything, and less than twenty minutes later his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh fuck Satoruuu!” Your moans somehow seeping through the walls. His emotions were haywire right now, he felt jealous, sad, angry, and turned on.

Suguru wanted to go do or say something, but instead he found himself pulling down his sweats and fisting his cock. He could hear nearly everything, the headboard hitting the wall, Satoru’s groans, your moans. He felt so disgusted at how fucking turned on he was. Using two hands to satisfy himself, one working on the tip, oozing with pre, and the other pumping his thick, veiny length. He closed his eyes, visualizing your mouth on his tip, while Satoru strokes him, talking you both through it.

“Aw look how cute your lil step sis is, taking your cock like a good girl. N look at you. So fuckin needy for us both Suguru.” Gojo would purr, while Suguru held a fistful of your hair, his eyes locked on Satoru’s.

“Y’gonna cum for me princess?” Suguru heard Gojo groan, and fuck, he would give anything, absolutely anything even just to watch.

Suguru had spat on his hand, swirling it over the tip of his cock and let a soft moan out. He would love to watch Satoru cum in your mouth, then have you kiss him. He had quickened his pace when he heard your moans increasing, wanting to cum with you.

“Nngh! Fuck m’cummin fuckohshit ‘Torruuu!”

Suguru’s balls had tightened up as he stroked himself furiously, allowing himself to moan, as his load shot all over his chest. His breath coming in short bursts. Yeah, this about confirms that he’s fucked up, who even does this kinda shit.

He had cleaned himself off, thanking Satoru in his head for having an en suite bathroom in his room. He ran the shower as hot as he could stand, hoping to wash away whatever the fuck it was that came over him. But he knew that he was tarnished. Thankfully he was able to go to sleep not long after his shower, and you were already gone when he woke up in the morning.

Suguru had gone downstairs, finding Satoru already tearing into some food he had ordered.

“Hey, I didn’t know if you were hungry or not but I ordered you some food.” Satoru had said, around bites of his food.

“Thanks.” Suguru had sat down, grabbing a breakfast sandwich from the take out bag. “So quick question. When were you gonna tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Satoru had paused to think. “Oh shit yeah, man I thought you knew?”

“That you were fucking my sister? Nah, nobody thought to inform me of this situation.” Suguru had rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal, would have been nice to have a heads up though.”

“Hey if you don’t want it to be a thing, you can tell me, it’s not like we’re dating or anything, it’s just casual.” Suguru had looked apologetic. “I can call her right now and-“

“Satoru. It’s fine honestly. I’d rather her be hooking up with someone I trust, rather than some idiot. Not that you’re not an idiot but still.” Suguru had smirked.

Satoru had playfully punched Suguru, before ensuring that next time they would be quieter.

But it didn’t matter. It was the same thing everytime. Suguru listening to his best friend making you come undone, fisting his cock and trying to shower away everything. Eventually he started feeling such shame that he started throwing on his headphones whenever he knew you’d be over, but he could somehow still hear you.

So tonight, he’s actually pissed. You had shown up, totally unplanned, and Suguru didn’t feel like dealing with it, so after rolling his eyes at you, he had let you in. You hadn’t even said hi to him at all, just sashayed your way upstairs. Suguru knew he could just easily go out somewhere for a few hours, then come back, but he enjoyed his time spent at home.

Finally, Suguru has had enough, tossing his headphones on the bed unceremoniously before standing up and walking to his door, opening it and walking down the hallway. Suguru’s heart was pounding, and he wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety or anger, but as he marched towards Satoru’s room he didn’t really care.

Suguru rapped on the door loudly, hoping that you both get the hint, but before he can turn on his heel to leave he’s met with Satoru’s voice.

“Come in!”

“Huh?!” Suguru’s jaw dropped.

“You heard him Sugu, come in.” Your voice is seductive, almost like a siren.

Suguru swallows, his throat feels tight, his palms have a sheen of sweat on them. He reaches for the doorknob, and turns it slowly while pushing the door open. And he’s taken aback by the sight that greets him.

Neither of you are naked, you’re in your bra and panties, and Satoru is shirtless but wearing sweats. Probably the weirdest thing is that you’re sprawled out on Satoru’s bed, typing something on your phone, while Satoru sits at his desk with his laptop open. Suguru furrows his brows, utterly confused by the whole situation.

“Oh fuuuuck Satoru!” Comes from the speaker conveniently placed at the foot of the bed.

“Huh? What’s going on?” Suguru questions, being met by smirks from both you and Satoru. That’s when he notices the video on Satoru’s computer. Showing you and Gojo lying on opposite ends of the king sized bed, rocking around, groaning and moaning while you both were on your phones.

“We figured some day you’d come in and tell us off,” you start explaining, “since neither of us wanted to be the ones to approach you.”

Suguru looks totally lost.

“Suguru, did you think you weren’t obvious?” Satoru grins. “We’ve known that you’ve wanted us both for the longest time. You’re not very subtle. And when we heard the groaning coming from you the first night she came over, that pretty much confirmed it.”

Suguru’s cheeks flush, and he feels like he could curl up in a ball right there and just simply pass away. He was an absolute idiot, and he had no idea how he would live this down. He turns to leave the room but you spring up and grab his hand.

“Where are you going? The whole point of this was to get you in here.” You explain.

“Why? To ridicule me? To taunt me about it? To tor-“ Suguru hadn’t noticed Gojo getting up from his chair and walking towards him, so absorbed by his secret being in the open. So when he was spun to face Satoru, and met with his lips, he didn’t know what to do. He parted his lips and let Satoru take the lead, placing a hand on the back of his neck, while he kissed his best friend. Suguru has never felt like this, it feels so perfect, so right, so calming, yet invigorating.

“Gojo! You’re such an ASS! I wanted to be the first one to kiss him.” You pout.

Satoru breaks the kiss to stick his tongue out at you. “Could you even have reached his lips from down there?”

“SHUT UP GOJO!” You shout.

“Why dontcha make me?” Gojo shoots back. “Anyways, if you wanna kiss him so bad go for it.”

Suguru turns his attention to you, and you find yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You’ve been wanting to do this forever, the feelings between you seemingly mutual.

When you first told Satoru about your feelings for your step brother, you felt so awkward. Of course there was also an attraction to Satoru, but he already knew about that. And Satoru had surprised you, confessing mutual feelings of attraction. So it seemed that all three of you were pining for each other. And that’s when Satoru schemed up the plan, which actually worked.

“Suguru, please kiss me.” You breathe.

And he does and oh my god it’s magical. He tastes slightly of cinnamon, and he wastes no time pushing his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. You moan into his mouth, and he pulls you in closer to him, you suck on his tongue and his hand wraps around your hair. You press your body into him, feeling his muscles even in between your clothes.

“Fuck you two are so hot…” Gojo announces before pulling you away from Suguru. “But I want a taste too.”

With that, he easily lifts you, placing you on the bed, before diving in to kiss you. Satoru is rougher than Suguru, biting down on your lip, tracing your lips with his tongue, and when you try to put your tongue in his mouth, he nips at it while smirking into the kiss.

Suguru watches feeling himself grow hard. Watching his best friend kiss his step sister should not affect him like this, but he’s past the point of caring now. Almost as if in a trance, he sits down on the bed, as places a hand on your thigh. Your skin is so soft, it drives him crazy and he can’t help but want to taste you. And so he repositions himself between your legs, after spreading them open trailing kisses on your thighs.

You moan into Satoru’s mouth, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You’ve barely even been touched yet you’re dripping. Satoru breaks the kiss to bite your neck and suck on it, before undoing your bra and pulling back to admire your tits. Then his mouth is on your nipple, sucking the bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

Suguru licks a stripe up your panties, feeling the wetness through them. He groans before ripping them off you.

“S-Suguru!” You protest. “Those were expensive!”

“I’ll buy you new ones, doll.” Satoru offers, before readjusting himself so he can lift you onto his lap. “Looks like I get front row tickets. Suguru~ are you gonna keep her waiting or?”

“Satoru you need to be muzzled.” Suguru chides.

“Tell ya what Suguru, I’ll watch you two, then she can watch us, then we can have her at the same time…Sound like a plan?” Satoru grins.

Suguru rolls his eyes before finally licking your exposed pussy, and it’s like nectar from the Gods themselves, fuck of course you tasted amazing. His tongue probes in and out of your hole, pulling soft mewls from your throat while Satoru trails his fingers up and down your body. Suguru finds your clit and god, the way your body jumps, the way your hands pull at his hair.

“Mmmhn Suguru, feels so good fuck.” You moan.

Satoru presses his lips against your ear. “He’s good at that isn’t he? You should have done this a long time ago huh? Now you’ve got us both, what a needy little slut.” Satoru pinches your nipples just as Suguru pushes a finger inside of you, and pleasure shoots through you.

“Keep talkin’ to her like that Satoru, I think she likes it.” Suguru offers before getting right back to his feast on your cunt.

“Is he right? D’ya like this? Like being between me n your step brother huh? Been such a tease to us both for so long n now you’re ours. Can’t wait to have you creamin’ on both of us.” Suguru drawls, his lips brushing against your ears with every syllable. “Actually, yknow what, I can’t wait. Open your mouth.”

You do so, just for Satoru to spit in it.

“Aht! Don’t swallow it. Suguru, why don’t you get some too?” Satoru orders.

Reluctantly Suguru pulls away from your pussy, taking his clothes off and coming to a seat, while you hold Satoru’s spit in your mouth.

“That’s it don’t be shy, kiss her n take my spit.”

Suguru does so, somehow feeling himself get even harder as you swap the spot into his mouth, pulling you into a messy kiss.

Satoru smirks as he watches the two of you, his hands creeping up your legs before pushing a finger into you and palming Suguru. His plan worked out just perfectly, nobody would have to choose and the three of you would be a power throuple.

As Satoru’s fingers curl and scissor inside of you, you feel pressure building. You break away from the kiss. “M so close, Suguru, please go down on me n Satoru don’t stop.” Your words come out in a whisper.

Suguru angles himself so Satoru can still finger you and ravishes your clit. The sensations are amazing, like nothing you’ve felt before. Both men are incredibly skilled and it’s not long before you can feel your orgasm come to a high. Satoru grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Eyes on me while you cum. Don’t fuckin’ look away.” And you do as he says, while he pushes a second finger inside you and that’s all it takes.

“Ohhh fuckkkk! Suguru! Satoru! Shit fuck fuck m’cumming, m’fucking agh!!!” It shoots through you like a firework, like a loose wire connecting to still water. Your muscles tense and release, you’re babbling incoherently, and both of them continue working you through your orgasm until you’re panting and begging them to stop.

“Mmm, looks like our girl needs a little bit of a break.” Satoru suggests.

“Yeah and I’ve got the perfect idea of what we can do.” Suguru smirks, grabbing the back of Satoru’s head and pulling him towards his cock. Gojo opens his mouth, eager to please, sucking on the head of Geto’s cock. “Sh-shit. I told you you needed to be muzzled.”

You watch with blown out pupils as Gojo slowly starts swallowing Geto’s length, like he’s an expert at this. Geto’s hand wrapped around a shock of white hair, biting on his lower lip and looking down at his best friend. The sounds of sucking and slight gagging filling the room. You find yourself crawling over and wrapping your lips around Gojo’s cock, taking him as far back into your throat as possible, before pulling away, spitting on it, and sucking him down again.

“Oh f-fuck that’s so hot. Satoru, throat fuck her.” Geto commands.

Suguru’s dick twitches at the sight and sound, Gojo on his knees, sucking him dry, while your body was curled around so you could give Gojo head. Gojo holding your head in place as he thrust into you, not even allowing you a chance to adjust to his size as he buried his shaft inside your throat, your gags were like music. But Suguru couldn’t let Satoru have all the fun so he held onto the back of his neck, giving Gojo the same treatment you were receiving. Watching as tears filled those crystalline eyes and drool seeped out of the corners of his mouth.

Without any sort of warning, Gojo shoots his load into the back of your throat, moaning around Geto’s dick. You continue sucking him, milking him for every drop before pulling away and kissing Suguru with the last bits of Satoru’s cum in your mouth. Suguru stops throat fucking Satoru, instead pushing you onto your back, and climbing on top of you, his tip sitting right by your entrance.

“Please.” You breathe out shakily. “Please Suguru.”

“Please what? Use your words princess.” Suguru teases his cock against you, rubbing it against your folds.

“Please fuck me Suguru, fuck me stupid please. You and Satoru, please.” You cry.

Suguru aims himself and pushes in, and it feels like a vice. He’s only gotten his tip in, and you’re already clawing at the bedsheets. You grit your teeth and turn your head to see Satoru facing his phone at you. You smile and look directly at the camera.

“Oh fuck, you two are so fucking hot. Hey Suguru, how’s it feel to finally be fucking your step sis?” Satoru asks, while pulling out a tripod and setting his phone up.

“Feels so tight, feels like I shoulda fucked her ages ago.” At every syllable he pushes his cock in a little more, meeting a bit less resistance. He’s stretching you out so much, you feel like you might break.

“Sugu s’big, s’too big.” You protest.

“Shhh, it’s okay, just lemme get it all in.”

Suguru pushes into you quickly, and you scream into Satoru’s mouth as he buries his tongue as far as it will go, while wrapping a hand around your throat.

Suguru pounds into you slowly as Satoru continues kissing you, his free hand trailing down to your clit, rubbing it at just too slow a pace. Your moans being swallowed by Satoru as Suguru fucks into you. Satoru breaks the kiss.

“My turn.” He says to Suguru.

Suguru obliges, pulling out of you with a POP! And Satoru takes his position, impaling you on his cock, hand still wrapped around your throat, not breaking eye contact with you.

“You’re such a slut aren’t ya? Taking our cocks so good, so cock hungry huh?” Satoru babbles.

“Y-yes.” You mumble.

“Words, princess.” Suguru instructs.

“Y-yes I’m such a slut, I’m both Suguru and Satoru’s slut. I want both of you at the same time, PLEASE!” You beg.

“Flip her over Satoru.” Geto suggests as he opens Gojo’s drawer to grab a bottle of lube.

Satoru does so, still fucking into you. “How’d you know that was there?”

Suguru just rolls his eyes while squeezing lube onto your ass and his fingers. You feel his finger fondling your asshole, and your muscles immediately tighten up.

“Relax princess. I’m not going to hurt you. Just breathe for me, and focus on how good Satoru is making you feel.” Suguru calms you down.

As he slowly inserts a finger, Satoru slows down his pace, preferring to thrust longer and deeper while he watches Suguru’s lithe finger prep your ass. He feels you gush around him, and moans.

“Knew you could take it. Fuck Suguru I can feel your finger on my cock.” Satoru giggles.

Suguru pulls out, adding another digit, scissoring inside of you. Satoru isn’t even thrusting anymore, just rotating his hips, entranced by the scene in front of him. When Suguru is able to pull his fingers out and push them back in he figures you’re prepped enough.

“I think she’s ready.” Suguru lays on his back, pulling you on top of him. “Satoru start fucking her.”

Satoru pushes into your pussy, feeling you clench around him, as you moan his name and wrap your arms around him.

Suguru lets you adjust and whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna put it in now, bite down on Satoru’s shoulder if it hurts.”

You feel him push in, and your body spasms. You do bite on Satoru’s shoulder but quickly back off. You’re absolutely stuffed full and oh my god. There’s pain, pleasure, everything in between. You’re sandwiched between the sexiest men on this planet, both of them fucking into you as though they needed to fuck you to live.

“S-Satoru I can feel you inside of her. Fuck.” Geto moans, his eyes becoming glazed over with pure lust.

“Y-yeah I feel you too. Shit it’s so tight, y’both gonna make me cum again.” Satoru groans.

“We gotta make our princess cum first. Can y’do that for us? Cum on both our cocks at the same time?” Geto asks.

“Yeah, cum all over our cocks, fuck make it real sloppy for us.”

The dirty talk, the pressure, everything has you seeing stars, words aren’t even forming as you lose yourself to another orgasm, an absolutely bone shattering, tremor inducing crescendo of pleasure. Sweat coats your body as you drool all over yourself, your orgasm coming out in a wet sticky mess.

“Good fucking girl.” Geto growls into your ear. “Y’gonna take both of our cum?”

You moan feebly. You can’t even think at all. You just know that you are theirs, their little fuck doll.

“Oh fuck, m’cumming. Fucking gonna breed you full y’slut, put my baby into you, fuck. Show the world you’re ours.” Gojo stammers his words out as he shoots ropes into you, fucking them back into you before pulling out.

Geto stops fucking you just to switch holes, burying himself deep inside your pussy, his cock pushing into Gojo’s cum.

“Fuck princess, you’re so fucking tight, god I love you. M’cumming.” Shooting his own seed into you, mingling with Satoru’s cum. Panting, and huffing as he stills beneath you. If you did get pregnant, you wouldn’t know whose it was.

Your eyes becoming heavy as Geto raises your body to slip out from under you. Feeling both men on either side of you as you feel yourself drifting off, your face being peppered by kisses.

(A/N I’m probably going to do a second part with more detail in the smut, I wanted to have more Geto and Gojo action but I was becoming burnt out.)

#geto smut #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk #jjk satoru #gojo x geto #gojo x geto x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto x gojo #gojo satoru x reader #tw stepcest #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd season two spoilers #ofmd finale spoilers #ofmd finale #Meta #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death

[lilywastaken]

⇝ resolution .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART FIVE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: A letter in the mail changes everything.

WARNINGS: Mentions of canon typical violence, gore, blood, death; angst, fighting, slight NSFW, a really big rollercoaster of emotions, I'm sorry.

A/N: AFTER ALMOST THREE WEEKS!! I AM SO SORRY IT'S HERE IT'S HERE SOUND THE BELLS!!! Please don't froget to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, it helps so fucking much!!

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

MASTERLIST.

If you want to be tagged in future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account - @lilynottaken !

Also on Ao3!

“You know you can just go to bed, right?”

“Mmm...” You yawned, leaning your head on the cool porcelain of the bathtub’s edge as you watched Tommy try to grab at one of the toys you’d placed in the water for him, leaning over to push it towards him. “...’m fine.”

“You haven’t slept properly for a few days.” Simon tried again, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to not just grab you and shove you into bed and finish Tommy’s bath on his own. 

“Noted…” You said, voice groggy and throat sore but still with enough energy to snap at him. “Just go…”

Go where? He wanted to snap back, but kept himself quiet, looking away from your body slumped on the floor to your bed, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

It’d been a few days since he’d come back from the mission that had ended with him and the task force in your home, and despite the warm farewell you’d both shared, when he came back, you’d seemed to have grown colder towards him for no apparent reason, and God, did he hate how much it reminded him of the first few months of whatever this was, insisting to do everything by yourself and leaving no room for discussion, taking up almost all of Tommy’s time with yourself. 

Which was fine, you were his mother, after all, but it just felt a bit like… You were pushing him away, keeping him from your son all over again.

He didn’t like it. 

“I got some curry, go eat and let me finish him up.” He took a few steps towards you, leaning down and placing a hand on your back, immediately being taken aback as you jumped away from his touch, arm placed protectively over yourself as if he’d just tried to attack you.

“No!” You all but screamed, staring up at him in shock before seemingly realising what you’d just done. “No. I- I said it’s fine, Simon. Go eat, I’ll finish.”

He furrowed his eyebrows beneath the mask, clenching his fists at his sides as he watched you turn around again to call out softly at Tommy, who turned his head to you with a bright smile, unaware of the tension filling up the room between his parents. 

“Fine.” He said gruffly, not missing the way your shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice. 

He really didn’t fucking understand what had happened between you two, what could’ve occurred in the span of the few days he’d been gone to change the way you acted towards him completely…

It was worrying, the whole scenario that was playing out making him sick to his stomach as he took out the food he’d bought, making you a plate before his and pouring you a drink, simply staring at his own food while listening to you whisper to Tommy through the walls, suddenly having lost all his appetite. 

You hadn’t even gotten to talk like he’d promised when he came back, you’d dismissed any and every attempt to start a conversation, keeping it to short words and sentences, seemingly not wanting anything to do with him apart from the things you were basically obligated to talk to him about. 

And god, did he fucking hate it. 

“Let me feed him.” He spoke as you walked out of your bedroom with Tommy in your arms, his hair damp and curly from the water, chubby hands clinging onto one of his toys. 

“I can-”

“I’m going to feed him.” Simon snapped, walking over to you and reaching for his son, his towering figure and the fire in his eyes immediately shutting you up as you didn’t put on more of a fight, letting him take the small boy. “And you’re going to eat and then go to bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Tommy was placed in his chair, a plate of rice in front of him. “You need rest.”

“Maybe I don’t want to rest.” You retorted, voice almost gone, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head away from him, yet still keeping a watchful eye on him and Tommy, once again insinuating further that you didn’t trust him anymore anywhere near your son. 

Keep it calm. Not around Tommy.

You saw it by the way he clenched his hand around the fork in his hand, he was trying his best to not snap with your son present, not wanting to subject the small boy to that kind of spectacle. 

And yes, you didn’t either, but you couldn’t just act like everything was normal around him, you knew how you were acting now was just a trauma response to what had happened in the time he’d been gone, that it would all hopefully be better if you told him about it, but the mere thought of the files you’d received in the mail that were currently sitting in one of the cupboards’ drawers made you feel nauseated. 

You just… couldn’t see him the same. 

Yeah, you were once a kid with unlimited access to the internet, yes you accidentally saw some gore shit online, you’d heard some disgusting things thanks to your grandfather that had served in the military, you’d seen all the mess and blood after you’d given birth, you weren’t fully desensitised to gore or blood, but you’d seen it across the years. 

But those pictures, fuck. It wasn’t any surprise that you’d immediately thrown up after opening them, having expected maybe some letters about rent or something, not- whatever that was. 

What you’d been able to discern after flipping through them a few times was that they were not the original military’s file but copies, which by the way the ink was smudged on a few of them and the lettering was off, seemed to have been made under a lot of pressure and on a time limit. 

You didn’t understand at first, why they had been sent to you, too in shock and terrified of the images amongst them to even connect it to Simon until you saw his callsign. And as you started to read through them more carefully, you realised that it was everywhere. 

And fuck, you’d never been more terrified in your life. 

Of course, you were aware of what a man in his position did, but you’d never explicitly asked him about it, never wanted to actually be exposed to whatever things he and the task force did to protect your country. 

But seeing it written down, all the specifics along with the pictures, it was traumatising. 

You hadn’t even realised how much time you’d spent staring at them until Tommy alerted you with a cry, snapping you out of it and forcing you to put the files down (although putting them down anywhere in your house made you feel sick), body shaking and bile rising into your throat once again. 

Obviously, there was no name on the envelope and of course, no return address, so the person who sent the files to you remained a mystery, but it didn’t take a genius to deduce that it was someone who’d been close to everything that had been depicted in them, someone who’d figured out who you were and what relationship you had to the SAS Lieutenant, and either wanted to send some type of message that you were to shook up to decipher or to simply toy with your emotions, all you knew was that somehow, they’d figured out Ghost’s oh-so secretive double life out. 

How, you had no idea. But you did know what that meant. 

You and Tommy were in danger. 

And you didn't know how you were supposed to react. 

Seriously, how?

Everything was too much at once, the files, the pictures, the fear, Tommy, Ghost, you- 

And then he came back. 

Acting like he’d never done anything of what you’d seen, holding your face in those warm hands and being so sweet towards you and your son, conflicting you even more. 

You didn't feel safe anymore, not just around Simon, but in general. And seeing him lean down to pick up Tommy with those hands, those hands that had caused what you’d seen, you just jumped into action, scooping Tommy up before he could reach him and insisting he would need to have a shower before touching him. 

You just couldn’t fathom how a man like that could treat you both with such kindness, how his hands could go from doing that to someone and then holding you softly at night, it was confusing and sickening and all you wanted to do was get rid of everything, go back to before where you had no idea of what happened while he was gone and you could indulge yourself in his touch without that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

How were you supposed to bring up a topic like that to him? How were you supposed to look him in the eyes after that information, hand him the files and receive confirmation that they were in fact real and true? And what would you do? Force him to explain himself like a wife confronting her husband over an affair? This wasn’t anything like that, this was his job, something he’d been doing for ages and needed no explanation, especially to you. What, would you force him to apologise to all the people he’d hurt? 

Of course not. 

But still, you couldn’t just act normal. 

Even if you felt slightly bad. 

Even if he looked at you like that, the way he’d done at the beginning of your relationship.

You… Couldn’t…

You didn’t even process the tears running down your cheeks until he shot up from his spot and his warm hands came into contact with your cheeks, pulling your head up to look at you properly, making you stumble as the exhaustion and overwhelm finally caught up to you. 

He called your name with such confusion and care, despite how mean you’d treated him these past few days, your hands coming up to grab at his arms for stability as he asked you what was wrong, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. 

“Hey, listen t’me, come-”

“I can’t- I’m sorry, I can’t-” You sobbed out, your breathing erratic as you tried your best to stop yourself from crying, but once the dam had been broken, there was no way of fixing it. “Simon-”

“Come ‘ere.” He let go of your face, arms falling to your body and wrapping around you, pulling you into a hug and letting you grab at his shirt, despite that repulsive feeling stirring deep within your chest once again at his touch. “Fuck, lovie…”

“Don’t…” You murmured into his shirt as soon as the pet name had slipped out of his lips, squeezing your eyes closed. 

“What?”

“Don't” You repeated, pushing yourself away from him and taking a few unsure steps back. “I- I can’t I-” You shook your hands as if there were muck on them, confused and anxious as you tried to breathe, spiralling further and further into a panic attack. 

You weren’t really there for what happened next, Simon could tell as he held you almost limp in his arms, trying his best to calm you down from whatever was happening. Panic attacks for the both of you weren’t unnormal, he knew that, you’d both been subject to anxiety for a long time, so this wasn’t completely new, but you fainting from the exhaustion and him having to bring you to bed was. 

And because you were asleep, he had no way of figuring out what had happened, what the cause of this whole mess was and how he could help you through it. 

He’d placed Tommy in the crib you'd brought into your room a few days ago, letting you both take a well-deserved nap while he cleaned up the abandoned food outside. And well, after that, he picked a beer out of the fridge, convinced that he was deserving of one too after everything. But of course, the bottle opener was nowhere to be found, so he was forced to look through all the different drawers in the kitchen and living room until he found it. 

But… He didn’t. Instead, he was greeted with a file envelope messily shoved into one of the cupboards beneath a few pictures of Tommy you’d put up, blank and very much looking like some of the files that they kept back at base. 

He pulled it out, looking down at the drawer that was filled with little trinkets, stones and incense, definitely not the drawer where you’d stick something like this. 

Maybe he should have put it back, but he finally decided against it, pulling the contents out and spilling them across the wooden top of the small cupboard, fear immediately being stricken within him as he laid eyes upon the papers. 

What the actual fuck. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, some of these he’d written him fucking self, all the reports for recent missions where he’d been the one to finish off most of the enemy’s team. 

He recognised each and every picture that came along with the textual description, remembered the face and the voice of the person who had been unfortunate enough to meet him during a mission. 

He knew them, he’d had them in his hands at one point, that didn’t fucking explain why you had them. 

A thousand scenarios rushed through his brain as he stared down at them, hands gripping at the edges of the wooden piece of furniture in order to keep himself from breaking his hands from the force he was clenching his fists with, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as his mind went down the deepest rabbit holes to explain why you had this. 

Had you been using him to get inf-

No.

Was this all a game to y-

No!

No, you weren’t… You weren’t a fucking enemy. You weren’t his enemy. You weren’t that type of person. You wouldn’t just fucking babytrap him to get information. 

No one was sick enough for that. 

…right?

“Fuck!” He roared, slamming his hands down onto the wood and staring deep into the picture of the soulless eyes of one of his victims, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. 

No. He wasn’t going to think of you like that. You loved Tommy too much for it all to be an act. He loved y-

Simon raised his hands up to his face to press them into his eyes until he saw flashing lights, trying to calm himself down. 

He turned around as soon as he heard the squeak of the floorboards, furious eyes landing on your dishevelled figure as you clung to the doorframe, staring at him like a deer caught in headlight as you saw what he’d been looking at. 

“Sim-”

“Why do you have this?” A shiver ran throughout your body at the sound of his voice, calm and calculated, like he hadn’t just woken you up with a shout loud enough to shake the building. 

“Si-”

“Answer.” Ghost replied, eyes focused solely on you as you looked down at your feet, a pressure building in your chest as you tried to speak. 

“They were sent to me.” You finally choked out, flinching back as Simon made a move to pick them up, unknowing of the connotations that answer could have.

Silence. 

“Do you really think I’d go out of my way to find those? Do you think I wanted to see you like that- like Ghost?” You started, voice wavering. “Fuck, Simon, those- I couldn’t even look at them a second time, I feel sick just fucking thinking of them!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me!?” He shouted, turning around in a flash and taking a few jarring steps towards you, files all bunched up in his shaking hands. “Why didn’t you think to mention that you were being sent shit like this!?”

“Because I was fucking scared, Simon! I was fucking terrified that this meant that they know who I was, who Tommy is, who he’s related to! That they know about us and therefore can use us as leverage against you! Unlike you, I’m not that fucking desensitised to pain, to whatever you do, to the fear of getting hurt so that they can get to you! I’m not part of the fucking military, I’m just a fucking civillian who is clearly very much in danger thanks to a fucking mistake she made with you!” You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks and blurring your vision as you shoved a finger into his chest. “So I’m sorry, okay!’ I’m fucking sorry that I was too afraid to bring this up! To bring up the fact I can’t see you the same, that I’m scared Tommy’s going to be hurt and I won’t be able to do anything about it, I’m fucking sorry!”

You let out another sob as you finished, your voice sore and throat dry from letting all of that out. 

“‘M not like you, Simon.”

Fuck.

Everything came crashing down onto him, guilt the only thing weighing Simon down.

“I’m… scared.”

“Of me?” He finally breathed out, raising his free hand to cup your cheek, relief flooding his body as you didn’t move away but immediately being crushed as he saw the fearful look on your face. 

“...I don’t know…”

A beat.

“...Should I be?”

Maybe.

“...I’d never hurt you. I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. You and Tommy are my family, and I’m going to protect you both no matter what. I won't let anyone ever lay a hand on you. You need to know that. The man I’m out there isn’t the same as the one I’m here. But neither of us would hesitate to rip apart whatever bastard is making you feel like this.”

He let the files fall, cupping your face with both hands, shaking you slightly so you got the message to look up at him. 

“I know I can’t undo this, what you’ve seen, what I’ve done, but I want to be here for you. You know I’ll always be here for you.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know.” You said, voice breaking. You couldn’t fully express what you were feeling right then, you… you didn’t hate him, it would be impossible to truly hate Simon, after everything he’d done for you; you just needed time and space. His view of you might’ve not changed in the whole time he’d been with you but yours definitely had, and that was normal, considering everything he did. You just couldn’t act like everything was normal after what you’d seen.

“...go back to bed. We’ll talk this out once you’re rested.” He let you go, watching you walk back into your room with a guilty look on your face before turning to his now still beer, the appetite he’d had for one having vanished.��

“...Simon?” You whispered before closing the door, hand clinging onto the wood. 

“Yeah?” He replied, a bit gruffly. 

“...Tommy’s going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He repeated, giving you a reassuring look, one he hoped you caught despite the mask. “‘Course he is.”

He watched you hesitate at the door for a split second, almost like you were deciding whether or not to say anything to further the conversation, but seemingly decided against it, closing the door after a quick nod and leaving him in silence. 

Silence. 

Something he used to enjoy before, when he was alone at home or at base with only himself for company, letting him unwind and think about whatever he wanted to. Now, it was overwhelming. 

It felt like every single thought rushing through his brain was out to catch him or hurt him, showing him the most horrific scenarios and ideas of what could happen thanks to whatever fucker had decided to play some sick joke on you. 

Was it even a joke? It could be hundreds of things, a joke, a message, a threat… 

Or just a form of psychological warfare, a way of messing with you and no doubt hoping to distance you from him, to leave him weak and defenceless like the enemy anticipated. That was the more credible reason, even if the mere thought of someone sending you shit like this in hopes of breaking you drove him insane to the point of wanting to catch and dispose of that abstard with his own two hands, ironic considering that those acts of anger and violence had been the whole reason for your dispute. 

It pissed him off to no end. 

But, even though a lot of people would’ve acted on the current emotions rushing through him if they were in his place, Simon knew that focusing solely on finding the bastard wasn’t the most important subject at hand. As much as he wanted this threat on your happiness and safety disposed of, he couldn’t just fuck off and leave you here to deal with the damage and Tommy all on your own. 

He’d repeated it to himself countless times before going on a mission, he was a protector, he was your protector, even if in the future you decided you hated his guts or something happened between you two, you’d always be safe and secure with him, no matter what. 

And so, he swallowed that horrible need for retaliation and picked up his phone, dialling in his captain’s number.

“What’d you do with them?”

“Burnt them.” Simon grunted, wiping away the mess Tommy had made around his mouth. “Best way of disposing shit like that.”

You hummed, clearly out of it, staring at the news playing out on the tv. 

“I told Laswell about it. ‘Said she’d do her best to find out who was the one who made the copies.” 

“Right…” You drummed your fingers against your mug with feigned disinterest, truly not knowing what to say back. 

“And, until whoever it is is caught, I’m not going anywhere.”

That caught your attention. You turned to him with an inquisitive look, confused. “What?”

“Asked her to stop givin’ me missions until they’re sure you’re not in danger.” He clarified, picking Tommy up from his high chair and straddling him to his side. “So I’m here in case anything happens.”

Tommy was carefully handed to you, Simon’s body plopping down onto the sofa next to you a few seats away, his feet coming up to rest on the coffee table as he picked up his own tea. 

“‘That okay? Figured you’d feel better if it was me and not some random guy sent by the SAS. Though Gaz was pretty up for it when asked…” He mumbled the last part, showing you did indeed have an option if you truly didn’t feel safe with him around anymore (his heart stung a bit at the thought of it, but it was what it was), but you soon shut it down with a simple shrug, pulling Tommy closer to you so he could rest his head on your chest, rubbing his back with your free hand. 

“It’s… okay. I’m just going to need some time.”

You were a bit ashamed of how you’d reacted last night when he’d confronted you about the files, but you still stood by everything you said, even if you’d said it a bit too harshly, it didn’t matter. You weren’t like him, after all, you were still afraid of things happening to you and of course, your son, and just needed some time to process what you hadn’t in all the months of knowing Simon: that whether you liked it or not, you would always be tied back to him, even if the mere thought of being hurt just because of who you’d randomly decided to go back home with one night.

“You said something last night.” He began, outstretching a hand towards you both so Tommy could grab at one of his fingers. 

“I said a lot of things last night.” You tried to humour, but stayed quiet as the expression in his eyes didn’t change. 

“You said that you were in danger because of a mistake you made.”

You flinched at the words, biting down on your lower lip as you recalled back to the outburst you’d subjected Simon to last night, that particular part having slipped out in the heat of the moment.

“...did you really mean that?”

“Fuck! Of course not!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to disturb Tommy any more than you both already had in the last few days, shaking your head to further your point. “No- Fuck, tat- that was so disgusting of me to say. It might’ve been a mistake back then when it first happened-” You saw his shoulders slump slightly, so you moved to grab at the arm he’d put out, catching his attention. “-but I’d never change it. Not for anything in the world. If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have Tommy, and he- God, Simon, he’s my son, of course he isn’t a mistake, he’s my everything…”

He let out a relieved sigh, nodding along with your words as you both looked down at Tommy, curious big eyes switching between you two as if able to understand the conversation that had just transcurred, giving you a toothless smile. 

Well, not really toothless, since he had been crying for almost a month now due to the pain of his teeth coming in, so there were a few flashes of white across the smile. 

“Yeah, you’re my everything too.”

“Huh?”

You’d expected him to immediately backtrack on his answer and say he was talking to Tommy, but he simply shrugged again, eyes darting from you to Tommy with a fond look reflecting in them as he did everything but take back what he said. “Both of you. Might be corny, but it’s true. I told you.”

His everything.

Simon’s everything. 

That shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

Yeah, it would take some time for you to adjust like you’d told him, but he was okay with that. He’d wait for you.

"Come on, please, wake up."

Simon's hands were shaking, gripping at your lifeless body as if you were the only thing that mattered in the midst of this living nightmare, his mask growing wet as tears formed in the corner of his eyes, his breathing growing erratic as your body slumped in his grasp. 

He called your name desperately, your body shaking in his hold from the way his own hands were trembling and in a feeble attempt at getting you to wake up, to open your eyes, to say his name in that fucking beautiful voice of yours, anything. 

His gloved hands came up to cradle your paling face, running it over your features to rub off the dust and ashes that had stuck to the now drying blood, dropping your body in horror as instead of the grime he wanted to wipe off, he was left with nothing, his hand growing warm as the blood from your now horrifying carcass started to flow. 

He was drowning, he was choking, he couldn't fucking breathe, he couldn't think, you were dead, you were gone, his fucking life didn't have meaning anym- 

Simon jolted up as the pressure that had been building in his chest finally exploded, the dam that had been working so hard to keep his fears at bay breaking, letting the tears that Simon always tried his best to contain out. 

Fuck, it felt like he'd really lived it, like he had held your dying body in his hands as you slowly slipped away from him, like his the recurring fears of him causing your end had come true. 

He felt pathetic, like the broken man he really was, lying on the fucking sofa like always trembling like a little kid, the tears a constant stream down his cheeks, all the emotions and stress from the past few months finally catching up to him.

His breathing was raspy and uneven, reflecting the anxiety rushing through his veins at that very same moment. 

He felt awful, he was awful, an awful, destroyed, broken man who had been tipped over the edge by a stupid fucking dream. 

Someone undeserving of everything you’d given to him. 

He was sure his heart was going to break through his chest with how quickly it was beating against his ribcage, one of his hands coming up to clench at the material of his creased shirt. 

He felt like he was about to pass out. 

His eyesight was blurry, his limbs shaky and his mouth dry, clear indications of the oh-so familiar panic attacks he’d been prone to every since he was a young boy, hat he’d grown enough to know how to control, but he knew that right now, he did not have enough willpower to keep himself from spiralling down into his own thoughts. 

He blindly got up, staggering around the living room as the blanket that had been draped over him pooling onto the floor. He pushed open your door, breaths staggering as his teary eyes made contact with your sleeping body, darting towards the crib right next to your bed where Tommy slept peacefully, making sure to stay quiet as he entered the bathroom. 

He didn’t want to wake you up, to annoy you even more than you already were with him after everything that had happened, despite almost a month having gone by after it all, you deserved rest, you deserved fucking better than h-

His hands gripped the porcelain sink as he stumbled into the room, staring at his uncovered reflection in the mirror, his cheeks red and blotchy from having cried mere moments ago, a few stray tears continuing their pathway down his face. 

He felt ridiculous. 

He was supposed to be some hard willed strong Lieutenant, not the pathetic man who cried at a mere nightmare he really was. 

"...Simon?"

The sound of shuffling sheets reached his ears, your muffled voice coming from beneath the covers as you stirred, his panicked footsteps and the light shining through the crack of the bathroom door enough to wake you from your slumber. 

"'S that you?"

Who else would it be? He wanted to joke, but stayed quiet, hoping you would just go back to sleep. 

But clearly, you weren't satisfied with no answer.

He watched the door open behind him from the mirror, freezing like a deer in headlights as you walked in sporting one of his dirty shirts he'd told you once you could wear, hiding the fact he wanted to see you in his clothes behind the pretence that it would be easier to do laundry, sweatpants (his, as well) tied at your waist so they wouldn't slip down your legs. 

"Simon." You mumbled, eyes barely open and vision blurry as you held onto the door frame for stability, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you yawned. "What's wrong?"

You knew something was off as soon as you'd heard him creep into the bathroom, already knowing from experience that Simon never got up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet, fearing that he'd wake you up like he’d done just now- 

“Nuffin’, lovie. Go back to bed.”

You frowned, squinting at him through swollen eyes, the bright lights from the bathroom and the sleep in them not helping your vision in the slightest, moving your head to rest against the cool wood of the doorframe. “It’s not, though, is it?”

A beat. 

“Simon…” You said, mid-yawn, outstretching a hand to blindly grab at his sleep shirt, tugging at the material. “Tell me.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, willing himself to not break down like he knew he wanted to, his grip on the sink slowly growing stronger as you stumbled towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing the side of your face to his warm back, giving him a comforting squeeze. 

"I said it's fine." He whispered, hand coming up to yours and attempting to peel it from his body, giving up once it immediately snapped back. 

Part of him wanted you to stay like that, but the other, more reasonable part knew that it would be best if he didn't burden you with his nightmares and if you just went to bed.

"You wouldn't be crying if it was." You murmured, unlinking your hands and running them over his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath his shirt. 

"'Not crying, lovie."

"You have to stop lying to me, Simon. It isn't healthy." You mumbled angrily, pulling yourself away and looking up at him, feeling the blood leave your face as you realised you were staring at the back of his actual head instead of the black material of his balaclava like you'd gotten used to. 

Simon had never explicitly told you that he was uncomfortable with you seeing his face, but you could only assume after all the time he spent with his face obstructed, even with Tommy. 

So you looked down at your feet, making sure to not peek at the mirror like you knew you really wanted to, not wanting to upset him by breaking his trust. 

"...I know." He sighed, turning on the tap and splashing his face with some of the water, finding it a bit humorous that he did it with you still clinging onto him, placing a damp hand over one of yours and giving it a squeeze. 

"Come on…" you sighed, letting go of him reluctantly and turning your body towards the door, flipping the light switch off before blindly outstretching an arm out to him, letting out an amused huff as you immediately met his own hand, pulling him out of the small bathroom and back into the comfort of your room. "Stay?"

"...'course." He breathed out, following you mindlessly as you returned back into your spot in the bed, almost like routine now after all the times you'd brought him to bed with the same comforting hold on his hands, kneeling on the mattress and all but collapsing onto the soft covers, running his hands over them until they met your warm body, running his fingertips over the patch of skin that had been revealed by the rise of your shirt, letting out a shaky breath as your own hands came up to run over his arms.

He fluttered his eyes shut, closing the distance between you to and letting his body fold into your touch, snuggling his face into the valley of your breasts (he thanked whatever god was up there that his shirt was big enough to expose your cleavage, a very welcoming sight), and grasping at your thighs for stability. 

Your arms came to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer into you until he'd grabbed at your legs to wrap around his waist, fingers running through his coarse hair, stopping at the top of his head every few seconds to scratch at his scalp, and if Simon was a cat, he knew damn well he'd be purring right then. 

"It's okay to cry, you know that, right?" You whispered, voice muffled by his hair as you let out a breath, his short hair tickling your cheek from how you'd pressed your face against it. "Better out than in."

"You sound like my mom." He grumbled, pulling a snort out of you as you ran your nails down his nape. "'Always said shit like that."

You stayed quiet, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest that wanted you to continue on with the conversation, curious for learning more about his mysterious family. 

"'Said'?" You whispered, almost nervous, scared you'd overstepped. 

He stayed silent, only furthering your fear that you'd insulted him until he let out an elongated sigh, hands pulling you impossibly closer as his warm breath hit your skin, face flushing at the reminder that if was his actual face pressing against your cleavage, not the rough material of the painted balaclava. 

"Don' see her as much. Not in the best condition to have a chat. Tommy takes care of her mostly."

"Tommy?" You said in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes darted over to your son's crib, the glow-in-the-dark stars you'd stuck to the sides of it illuminating it enough to reflect your sleeping son's cute little face.

He froze in your arms as if he'd said something wrong. "My… my brother."

"Your brother's called Tommy?!" You almost shouted, peeling yourself off of him to look down at him (ignoring the slight whine that formed in his throat at the feeling of your body being torn away from his), despite not even being able to see him. 

"Yeah…" he grumbled, trying to pull you back into his arms, frowning as you slapped at his shoulders to catch his attention. 

"That's - Why you reacted like that, right?" You mumbled, thinking back to the night he'd met Tommy for the first time, the way his eyes had gone blank like you'd just reminded him of some painful memory. 

"...his name's Tommy."

You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse. 

"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"

You hadn't thought much about it at the time, since by then, you had more important things to worry about, but now that he'd revealed his brother's name, his shock made sense. 

"Yeah…Was kind of… Tragically funny, lovie." He sighed, running your hands over your waist as you finally pulled him back into your hold. 

"Yeah… I didn't know."

"How could've you? I left before I could even give you my last name." He huffed, rubbing the side of his cheek on your chest. 

Silence filled the room once again, only being broken by the shuffling sounds of the sheets over you or Tommy's occasional whines, continuing your brushing of his hair with your fingers. 

You didn't want to pry further into the topic that had been at hand before you'd interrupted, squeezing your eyes closed as you inhaled his shampoo, shivering beneath his touch as he ran his fingers around your belly button. 

"She's in a home. Near where I grew up. Nice one. I only talk to her on the holidays." He started, running them up to the space below your breasts. "It's better that way. Tommy's the nicer one of us."

"Didn't he used to terrorise you?" You teased, trying to lighten the mood, letting out a cry as he licked a stripe up your clavicle, no doubt grinning into the darkness as you slapped his head. 

"Going to stop telling you things from now on if you insist on using them against me in the future, lovie." He murmured, pressing a kiss to where he'd just licked as an apology, ignoring the way your skin grew warmer beneath his touch. "But… he's cleaned his act up. Not as much as a cunt. Probably afraid I could rip him in two, now."

You snorted, hesitantly pushing his bangs back to press a kiss to his forehead, almost giggling at the pleased hum that left his lips. "Si… you, uh… want to talk about why you were crying?"

Simon noticeably tensed beneath your touch as you brought up the whole reason as to why he was in your bed, another breath hitting your skin. 

He thought about lying to you once again, but finally decided against it, throwing a glance at his son over his shoulder as if the boy would understand the next words that would come out of his mouth. 

"Just… a stupid nightmare. You… I jus’ wanted to make sure you were safe. I didn't mean to wake you, really." He let out all in a string pulled together by one breath, hands coming down to grab at your thighs and rub at them through the material of your bottoms, letting out a shaky sigh as you moved them to wrap around his body. "Fuckin' stupid, isn't it?"

"It's not stupid if it affected you this much, Si…" You tried, not wanting to pry further into the contents of the nightmare, but still not wanting to drop the subject all together. “Even the strongest people need a shoulder to cry on.”

You cupped his face, bringing it off your chest, looking down at what you could only assume to be his face. 

“Let me be yours.”

You didn’t move as he shuffled closer to you, running your thumbs over his cheekbones as he leaned closer into you, feeling his warm breath hit your face. 

“Mine?” He mumbled, your hair standing on edge as you felt his lips brush against yours ever so slightly. 

“Mhm… Yours.” You breathed out, nodding as if he could see you. 

Heat rushed to your face as soon as his lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan you let out as his hands moved beneath your shirt, tightening at your waist. 

And God, did it feel right. 

Nothing had ever felt as right as this did right then, the feeling of his lips slotted against yours and his hands seemingly everywhere on your body, causing you to go near dizzy and drunk on his touch. 

“Fuck, love.” He said between kisses, moving you onto your back so he was hovering over you properly, leaning down to catch your lips back into a passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to breathe or let out your own moans, immediately swallowing up each and any sound you made. 

His hands came down to your thighs, helping you wrap them around his waist before he moved away to press pecks along your jawline, moving further down until he was leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all over your upper chest, his stubble tickling your skin. 

“S-Sim-”

He shushed you, sucking on the pressure point of your neck, pressing closer to you as you let out another breathless whine, his eyelashes brushing against your skin from the way he's snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was trying to have you impossibly close to him. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, covering your neck in kisses and love bites, answering with a “markin’ my territory” and a chuckle when you asked why he was so adamant on kissing you everywhere but where you needed it the most, his hands doing wonders as they went over your shirt to cup one of your breasts, immediately surprising you both my the loud moan that left you. 

“I-”

“Christ, lovie. That fuckin’ sensitive? Barely even touched you and you’re moaning like that?” He huffed out in amusement, leaning upwards in hopes of laying his eyes on the mess he’d left across your skin only to be met with darkness, grunting as he raised a hand to run over the marks, feeling the indents from his teeth around your neck. 

“It’s- It’s been a while, Si-” You mumbled out of embarrassment, thankful for the darkness since it was the only thing keeping you from fully breaking down from the shame of being so sensitive after a single touch, but you couldn’t really be blamed. 

It’d been almost a year and a half since you’d last indulged in any type of self-pleasure, the last time ironically being the night you’d spent with Simon before his mission, it was no wonder a simple brush of his warm hand to your breast had you writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat, you basically were. 

“Hm…” He grunted, leaning down to press some kisses along your flushed cheeks, still purposefully avoiding your mouth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he thought of what to do next. “...I want to see you.”

What?

“Properly.”

You felt his lips brush against yours slightly, knowing full well how titillating he was being. 

“Wh-”

“Turn the light on.”

You froze. 

You were staring up at the darkness of your ceiling, letting out soft breathless sounds as he leaned back down to continue kissing your neck, letting the words he’d just spoken sink in, letting out a chuckle against your ear after a minute or so passed. 

“Go.”

You acted on instinct only, stretching your body over to the lamp on your bedside table with the little space he had given you, the man still insisting on having his hands all over your body, your mind and thoughts reeling. 

It would’ve been different if he had his mask on, the small request would have been just for him to see the marks he’d left on you, to continue whatever you’d started in the light so you’d both be able to see your body’s reactions properly, but this was oh so much more than that. 

He didn’t seem to want to make a move to go get his mask or to cover his face, he was actually telling you to turn on the light so you could see him, see his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips, Simon

As soon as your shaking hand found the switch and had pressed it, your eyes closed in time for the room to be filled with light, a nervous sound leaving your lips as Simon pulled you back into place, his calloused fingers running over the length of your nose before poking at the middle of your furrowed brows. 

“Y’can open them.” He whispered, his own voice sounding slightly terrified. “Please.”

“What if you’re ugly?” You blurted out as a joke, trying to lighten the mood, immediately slapping yourself mentally the moment he didn't laugh, opening your mouth to apologise only for him to poke you again. 

“Jus’ open them.”

The first thing your eyes landed on was the smile pulling at his lips, leading them from the scar that adorned the left corner of his mouth past his crooked nose and up to those beautiful eyes of his, his blond eyelashes framing them perfectly like always. 

And fuck… He was beautiful. 

The stubble covering the lower part of his face, the scars littering his face telling stories and tales of all his time on duty, his cracked lips and scarred nose only complementing his beauty even more. 

It was everything and nothing like you’d expected, it was just… him. 

You didn't know what to say, what were you supposed to? But by the way his smile grew bigger at the sight of your dumbfounded face, you were sure that your expression told him everything he needed to know. 

Now, Simon knew that he wasn’t the worst looking person, but the way you were staring at him like he was a god incarnates, like Aphrodite herself had given him a piece of her beauty, it didn’t fail to tint his cheek a soft pink, quickly leaning into you to meet you in another kiss in hopes of hiding how flustered he was from you. 

“Mhf-” You tried speaking as soon as you had regained consciousness through his kisses, a giggle leaving your lips as he gave you no time to speak. “You’re- Mm- S- so pretty, Si-”

Pretty? He thought to himself as he continued his kissing assault, the adjective a very foreign concept, never having been referred to in that way in his life. But, it did feel nice when you said it, the way you were looking at him with that sultry gaze as the compliment oozed out of your mouth like honey, it had him grabbing at your thighs for stability, wrapping them around his waist and letting you make contact with the product of your make-out session and cute words. 

“F-fuck!” You mewled, grabbing at the back of his head for stability, tugging at the roots of his dirty blond hair, shivering underneath him as he let out a breathy groan, the sound sending pleasurable shocks down to where you both were connected, despite the amount of clothes that separated you both. “W-Wait- Hng!”

He stopped as soon as the word left your mouth, pulling back and moving his hands to hold your waist, giving you some time to regain your breath before asking. 

“‘vrything okay?” He said breathlessly, looking down at your equally dishevelled state, your lips red and sore from all his kissing and body littered with all the marks he’d left, taking a few seconds to admire his handiwork and how truly fucking perfect you looked covered in his claims before going back to waiting on you. 

“Y-yeah.” You swallowed, breathing and heart pulse erratic, coming down from the sudden pleasure. “I- I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I want to continue- Sor-”

“It’s okay.” He interrupted you, grabbing your thighs and pulling them away from their spot around his waist, pushing them together and placing them away from him, placing a comforting hand on the one that was still pressed next to his. “We don’t have to. Whatever y’want, love. ‘S been a long time, I get it.”

You nodded, sending him a small smile that he returned in an instant, leaning up to press a final kiss to his lips, thankful that he’d understood your fears so quickly. 

“You’ll stay, right?” You mumbled against his lips after pulling away slightly, looking at his through half-closed eyes, his deep beautiful pools staring back at you. 

“Always.”

His arms wrapped around you from behind once you situated yourself back in the bed, arms pressed tight and securely against our stomach as his thumb rubbed over the skin, a constant reminder that he was there and that you were safe like he’d promised, soft kisses being pressed against your nape from behind, a sweet contrast to the bites that now littered your front. 

“‘You going to wear the mask again?” You spoke drowsily, turning your head slightly so his lips pressed against your cheek, his breath tickling your ear. 

“Not unless you want me to.” He mumbled back, half-asleep. 

“Rather you did… Can’t focus with that ugly mug of yours…” You teased, letting out a high pitched yell as he bit down onto the space between your neck and shoulder, immediately soothing the pain with a kiss and a chuckle. 

“Only mug you’ll se ‘round here, lovie, better get used to it.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #cw pregnancy #— ménage

[schoopsahoy]

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift. 

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug. 

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist. 

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it. 

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches. 

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves. 

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down. 

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze. 

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more. 

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen. 

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own. 

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park. 

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out. 

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car. 

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it. 

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you. 

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in. 

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him. 

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you. 

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of. 

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home. 

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?” 

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up. 

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled. 

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves. 

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you. 

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.” 

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin. 

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate. 

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.” 

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?” 

“Obviously, I get first dibs.” 

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that. 

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?” 

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring. 

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck. 

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you. 

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him. 

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.” 

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you. 

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?” 

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath. 

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy. 

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue. 

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there. 

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself. 

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little. 

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips. 

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it. 

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready. 

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens. 

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge. 

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising. 

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you. 

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you. 

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips. 

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen. 

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long. 

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin. 

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs. 

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy. 

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft. 

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit. 

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening. 

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows. 

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.” 

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck. 

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out. 

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining. 

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts. 

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge. 

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again. 

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out. 

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric. 

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?” 

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

[the-grimm-writer]

Arranged marriage au with Shoto. He’s quiet, barely even having a conversation with you since you first met a few months ago. And he always has a cold, stoic look on his face that makes you believe that he hates you. You would understand if he did, you weren’t exactly thrilled about the arrangement yourself. 

tw: noncon, forced marriage, breeding kink, shoto really needs to learn how to communicate lmao. fem reader. everyone is 18+!

The marriage itself was beautiful, everything that money could buy. He didn’t touch you like a part of you was expecting him to, or even make you sleep in bed with him. He let you go wherever you want, sleep wherever, and he never asked for anything in return. He offered you everything, luxurious clothes, only the top of the line, sports cars, jewelry. 

But none of that made you happy. 

It felt like you were more roommates and for months you had no idea that he was only trying to make you comfortable. After all, he never wanted to be like his father. But the longer he waited, the more he watched you begin to drift away instead of moving closer to him the way he wants you to, he feels himself starting to crack. 

He didn’t want to be in a loveless marriage, he wasn’t an abusive husband. So why were you seeking comfort in another man’s arms. You were laughing and hugging him, a bright smile that he’d never seen from you before. 

It made jealousy bubble up inside him, made him want to act like the way most of his family would and burn him alive, and fuck you in front of him.

But Shoto was a good man, and he could think of thousands of ways to punish you without being like his father.

You're surprised to see him sitting on the comforter. “Who was that?” 

“Who is who?” You asked confused, about to walk past when he sets down his drink and grabs your wrist. 

“The man that was talking to my wife.” 

Your eyes go wide. “Oh. He’s a childhood friend of mine. He’s nothing to be worried about.” 

“I’m worried about any man that thinks he can talk to my wife.” He stood up. “I tried doing this the best way I thought. But I understand now that I didn’t think it through very well.” 

Sniffling, you looked up at him. “No, you’re not a good husband, Shoto. I didn’t even know you liked me until now.” 

“You’re right.” He stands up, looking down at you. “A good husband provides for his wife. Loves her, spoils her.” He looked down at you and you shivered. “Makes her scream with pleasure, gives her a family.” 

You’re backed up into a wall, and he corners you. His hand reaches out, his thumb running down your lips. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs softly. “But I’ve been avoiding my husbandly duties for far too long.” 

“Shoto no -” You try to speak up but he cuts you off the moment he takes off his belt. 

“(Y/n),” he said your name so lovingly, in a way that you always wanted to hear. “I think we’re overdo for our honeymoon.”

-

He holds onto you gently, licking your tears away and gently thrusting into you, nearly collapsing from how good it feels to finally be inside you. 

His moans are soft, but he’s still significantly more vocal than he usually is. He rubs your clit gently, making you wine with pleasure. Every time it sends him closer to the edge. 

Shoto thinks about how good of a mother you’ll be. How gorgeous you’ll look with your tummy round and breasts full. It’s in his nature to be rough, but the first night of lovemaking he focuses all on you. Making sure every thrust gives you a burst of pleasure, hearing you mewl and not know if you’re begging him for one more time to cum.

It’s a miracle that he held himself back for so long, that he never saw the way your eyes almost roll to the back of your head and your body trembles every time he makes you orgasm. The look of shock as he fills you up, your tummy warm with his seed. 

Poor you. You thought that having a loveless marriage was bad. 

Now he wants this. Every single day. 

#sorry i haven't been very active lately so have this ehe #grimm thirsts #yandere shoto #yandere todoroki #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #tw noncon #tw arranged marriage #tw breeding kink

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Famous

Pairing: Jamie x reader

Word count: 1841

Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end

Masterlist Here

Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.

But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.

“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.

The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.

You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”

“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”

You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.

“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.

-

Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.

However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.

“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.

You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”

“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”

Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”

“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”

-

However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.

 “He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.

“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”

“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”

You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”

Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”

“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”

Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.

Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”

“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”

“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.

-

Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.

Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.

-

However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve.  As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.

You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.

You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.

You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.

As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.

He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!” The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.

Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.

“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.

He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.

“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.

God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.

“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.

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[devildomwriter]

Believe In What Your Heart is Saying | Leviathan x Reader

.6K Words | GN! Reader | CW: none

Leviathan struggled to calm his heart as he paced his floor, occasionally bumping against the jellyfish lights as he did so.

Henry watched from the aquarium concerned. Leviathan didn’t usually get like this over anything other than his anime and idols and this time Leviathan mouthed the same thing over and over again. The red shade on his face didn’t dim no matter how many times he practiced.

“___, will you, b-b-be, be-b-b-be! Aaaack I can’t say it! Why can’t I say it!?” Leviathan bemoaned and turned to Henry. He placed his hand against the tank and asked Henry for Yelp but the fish did not know how to respond.

Leviathan nodded. “You’re right! I’m too pathetic. They’ll just say no, so why bother?”

Henry blew bubbles at Leviathan trying to communicate he’d said no such thing and Leviathan continued to belittle himself until the clock struck eight and he jumped to his feet, panicking.

“I-is it already time!?” He gasped and quickly requested the password.

“The Christmas password is Ruri’s Santa uniform is the cutest in the worlds!” You called from the other side of the door.

Leviathan swallowed the knot in his throat and opened the door with a shaking hand. He had to keep it together, he couldn’t let you notice anything was different.

But when he saw you in your cute Christmas sweater with a bucket of popcorn to share with him, his blush deepened.

“What’s up with you, Levi? You’re redder than Rudolph’s nose.”

Leviathan laughed awkwardly at your Christmas reference and gestured to the beanbags in front of his TV.

“L-let’s sit down n-now.”

You raised a brow at him curiously, knowing he was acting oddly but agreed. You sat down on the beanbag and Leviathan rushed to grab a throw blanket for you. He wrapped it around you and you beamed up at him.

“Thanks! You’re the sweetest.”

“Wh-huh? Like lol…no j-just…being a good host!”

Leviathan sat down next to you but not as closely as usual.

“What happened with you? Did I finally lose to Ruri-Chan?”

“Huh!? What? Like that’s even possible you’re a million times cuter than Ruri!”

You weren’t expecting that direct of an answer and blushed. As soon as Levi realized what he’d said his face turned even redder than it had been all day.

Henry watched in anticipation from the aquarium as Levi hid in his sweater and tried stuttering an excuse.

“Wh-wh-what I meant was—“

“You’re cute too Levi!” You exclaimed.

“C-cute…?” He didn’t seem too enthused at being called cute although he was still blushing.

“Yes. And handsome.” You said matter of factly.

“Huh! N-no way. Not some gross normie otaku like me!”

You shook your head and glared at him and he gulped in surprise.

“Stop putting yourself down. Are you saying I’m a bad judge?”

He looked shocked and shook his head. “N-no. Everything you do and say is perfect.”

“We’ll I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Oh no, did I say something stupid? Ugh!”

Levi tried to back away but you didn’t let him and wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything wrong. Now come on. We’re watching Christmas movies, aren’t we? I’ve been really excited about this.”

“M-me too. I’ve been excited too…B-Because…” he whispered the last part too quietly for you to hear so you leaned in face close to his.

Leviathan blinked in surprise. Assuming you’d heard him confess his feelings, he leaned in to meet your lips.

You were surprised he’d be so bold and realized what he must’ve said as he cupped your cheek with his hand. You blushed and grinned into the gentle touch of your lips.

The kiss was a little awkward but it meant everything to you. He finally pulled away, red and you’re face matched his. You weren’t expecting him to finally confess, it caught you by surprise.

“Hey, Levi…”

“Y-yeah?”

“Tell me again.”

“What? Like, do you want me to want me to have a heart attack? Lol.”

You shook your head and batted your eyes teasingly. His demon form slipped out in his excitement and nodded.

“Then I’ll tell you as many times as you want! I-I love you!”

#obey me drabble #obey me leviathan #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas #leviathan x reader #omswd leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me x reader

[softlyspector]

Deserve

Summary: Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader)

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: smut, some references to rough sex, angst (with a happy ending) - don't let me fool you this is just touch starved marc struggling with being loved

A/N: im fine im just really out here with nothing else to do but think about moon knight

Marc was an intense person. 

He was like the patter of rain against the roof, against an open window pane. He was like the shock and flash of lightning during a storm. 

The grim set of his mouth and shoulders, the unending weight of the world that made his brows dip into that hard line. Marc felt more than he let on, was affected by things people said and did, let the blows rain like ash against his skin and said nothing. 

You had learned long ago that Marc did not welcome comfort, that he felt it was something he did not deserve to receive. Soft, shaded mornings were for his alter. Everything squishy and warm, hazed in the breathy glow of a sunrise, was for you and Steven, not him. 

Maybe it wasn’t that Marc didn’t welcome comfort. 

He craved it, wanted it, longed for it. 

And he should not long for it, want it, crave it. 

He’d told you as much, over and over, the weight of your gentle hands against his skin like burning embers. 

He wanted it. He so badly wanted to sink into that flame, but he was worried it would burn him alive, melt him down into something unrecognizable. 

It was only when something went particularly badly that he allowed some comfort. 

He loves you, this you know. 

You see it in the heaviness of his stare, in the intensity of his worry, in the way he hugged you, held your hand, worried after you like you had not survived for years on your own. 

But if you ever dared to hold his hand, hug him, drag your fingers down the length of his spine, it was too much for him. These were things he could offer you, but that you should not give him in return. These were not things he deserved, these were things better reserved to his alter, who was deserving of everything he was not. 

Marc is intense.

He’s hard and wild and something close to broken some days, when reality drifts in and out of focus, when the world is best left in the hands of Steven.

There’s always a beating heart of anxiety behind everything he does, that this time he will not be enough, that this time he will not be fast enough, that this time the universe would get the last laugh again.

So when Marc fucks you, he is intense, he is like the weight of the all consuming world poured out. Salt water in wounds. 

You don’t mind. 

The times he’s gentle with you, you get the sense that he’s mourning, like the act is grief, something lost that he’s stealing back from the gods. Something that is temporary and definitely not for him. 

This night, he had come to you like the storm he bred inside him, the hatred of self and fear of a future he could not control, of a tentative reality of things only he could see. 

Marc was rough with you.

His fingers in your mouth, his hand hard against your cunt, against your ass. He had buried himself inside you, set a punishing pace. When his mouth was on yours, his kiss had been more like an effort to consume you. When his hand wrapped around your throat, his eyes had snapped to the mirror, and you had known Steven had been cautioning him, that you were in fact breakable, no matter what you said, that he should be careful of you. 

But you’d covered his hand with your own and tightened his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in whatever bit of himself he would give you. 

~

A last stuttering breath passes your lips, eyes screwed closed, pleasure lighting up the insides of your veins, molten, like a river of fire that never ends. 

You clutch the sheets beneath your fingers and turn your face into a pillow as the last waves of your orgasam shutter through you. You bite off the moan that bubbles to the back of your throat when you feel Marc shift inside you, so full it's almost painful. 

Your thighs tremble, the insistent pressure of Marc’s hand against the back of your neck keeping you in place. His other hand kneads the flesh of your hip, and you know a bruise has already formed there. 

Marc pulls back, and thrusts into you one last time, a pleasant satisfied ache beginning between your legs. 

The firm fingers at your waist finally let you drop your hips to the mattress. 

You feel weightless and warm, content, like you’re floating through a cloud. Marc presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, before the heavy bulk of his body surrounds yours. 

Disappointment darts through you in a brief little flash, because this is Marc’s parting gift to you always. 

The kiss between your shoulders, the all consuming fire of the warmth of him against you, before he hands the reigns to Steven. 

Marc never stays with you, after. The kiss against your spine is all you get from him. Whether because he can’t be bothered with taking care of you or because he feels he doesn’t deserve to, you aren’t sure. 

Steven is always there though, to kiss you back to life, to smile at you, make love to you so slowly and sweetly it was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.  

His fingers slide up your arms, massaging as he goes, until he reaches your clenched hands, gently uncurling them from the fabric of the sheets until he can twist his fingers with yours. 

You feel him squeeze carefully, his nose dipping to the crook of your neck. 

A stillness falls over you both, silence, peace, creating a warm little bubble. 

You don’t mind his weight against you, it settles the frantic beating of your heart, drenches you in warmth. 

Normally, Steven would say something to you when he fronted, a kiss against your cheek and a softly spoken hello, love. 

Today, he’s silent, arms tight and grounding around you. 

But it's Steven, you know it must be. 

Because Marc never stays. 

You turn your head, nuzzling your nose against his arm, feeling his damp skin against your cheek. You want to open your eyes, reach up and touch the little black curl of hair you know must be stuck to his forehead at that moment. 

You’re content to stay like that with him, content to feel the gentle drift of his nose along the curve of your jaw. So you keep your eyes closed and let your mushy, sex-addled brain drift, as lips press along your jaw, behind the curve of your ear. 

And you’re happy to stay in the gentle warmth being offered to you, the glow of being loved so well.

But then, he does something inexplicable. 

Steven pulls away from you. 

He gets up. 

And he leaves. 

An empty feeling that you don’t like crawls up from the pit of your belly. A feeling that’s suspiciously like abandonment, that you know is not grounded in reality. 

Steven never left the bed, not without saying something to you first, not before checking in with you to ask what you needed or wanted. Especially not when Marc had been so rough with you. 

It was a routine that was being broken, a sacred step you didn’t know needed spoken out loud. 

You swallow thickly, peeling your eyes open. 

You don’t like the dirty, used feeling that’s overwhelming you, like you did not matter. 

Pushing yourself up is a monumental task, the ache of your bones like the grinding of cinder blocks against your flesh. You glance over your shoulder at the door. 

Then there’s a clatter from the bathroom and the door swings open, Steven emerging in only a pair of briefs. He still doesn’t say anything as he approaches and encourages you with gentle hands to roll over, the brief warmth of a washcloth between your legs. 

Which is odd. 

Because Steven would normally lie with you and talk with you, until you were coherent again, until you were secure enough for him to move away without feeling the sting of abandonment. 

Steven also talked almost non-stop to you, never without something to say. 

Normally,  you would throw on a shirt and play cards in bed, watch something on your laptop. Sometimes, Steven would just hold you and talk. Sometimes, he would make love to you again. 

But none of that happened until you were ready. 

Steven still doesn’t speak to you as he climbs back into bed, handing you Marc’s discarded shirt, which he gingerly helps you sit up and slip on.  

Steven’s head twitches toward the mirror, and you watch him watch his reflection for a moment. You frown, wondering what Marc could be saying to him. Marc, who always and without fail disappeared and walled himself off from both of you. 

And then it dawns on you. 

In your post-orgasm haze, and without the sound of his voice, you hadn’t noticed the signs that this was very clearly Marc still fronting, not Steven. 

Marc never stayed with you, never. 

Your throat is tight when he doesn’t say anything, his head is still swiveled toward the mirror, brows drawing tighter together with each passing minute. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat, “c’mere.” 

You snuggle down and hold out your arms. 

You half expect him to huff out an exasperated breath and lay back but avoid your touch. 

But he doesn’t. 

He curls into your arms, nudging his nose into the hollow at the base of your throat. He cradles you close, inhaling gently. 

But to your utter surprise, he lets you smooth your hands over his shoulders, through his unruly curls. The motion of it soothes you, comforts you. 

You glance toward the mirror and wish that you could see Steven there too, so you could ask what was going on in Marc’s head, why he was pretending to be Steven. 

“You okay?” You say as he lets you run a hand down his face, over the ridge of scar above his brow. 

It takes Marc a long time to respond, buried in your skin as he is, breathing you in, tracing rough hands along your hips and over your thighs, massaging where he knows you must be sore. 

You kiss the top of his head, blearily giving him all the love he was usually too prickly to receive.

He nods against you, so you slip hands down his back, over his hair. You aren’t sure why he’s pretending, but you find you don’t mind. It’s the kind of love you always want to shower Marc with but that he rarely allows. 

You want to ask him why, why he didn’t let Steven front. But you worry he might think you’re asking to see Steven, that you don’t want him there with you. 

Emotionally, Marc was a fortress, impenetrable and soldily quiet. Things simmered down in his gut, pushed away and down down down, until they overwhelmed him, until they burst to the surface in a violent torrent. 

Most often, it was when someone he loved was in danger, when the past became something he could no longer stare down, when the things he avoided were impossible to ignore.

And you’re terribly afraid that if you say anything now, he’ll clam up, shut down, pull away from you, leave the flat and take your heart with him. 

Gently, you slide down, until you’re eyelevel with him, one hand against his neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw carefully. 

You feel Marc’s hands go to the small of your back, big hands gingerly tugging you closer, until your nose is touching his, until you share the same air. 

And you can hardly believe that the man who had smacked your pussy, held you down and fucked you until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, whispered filthy things in your ear that you can hardly remember, that your brain fuzzes out when you think about too much - is now holding you so gently you may as well be made of delicate glass, is now allowing you to stroke your hands through his hair, pet his broad shoulders. His eyes are closed, trust you didn’t think Marc possessed pouring over you in waves. 

You know why. 

You know why he’s doing this. 

Marc would rather accept love in the guise of his alter than ever believe he was worthy of it himself. 

You think about the hatred that lives inside Marc, about the self-hatred that loomed always at the back of his mind. The hatred that ran so deep, that he felt so potently, that even his alter had thought the worst of him at first. 

Killer, mercenary, cold-blooded. 

Things that Marc accepted into the folds of who he was without question. 

Marc never let you hold him like this, and so you do so for as long as you can bear, tilting your chin into his so you can kiss him softly, feeling the slow drift of his hands down your sides to the curve of your ass, over the bruised skin of your hips and thighs. He hooks his fingers behind your knee and tugs your leg over his hip. 

You finger a curl at the back of his neck, the glow of brown skin molten in the low light of the flat. 

You swallow and hope that you don’t drive him away, but you can’t stand it any longer - his thinking that this is softness you would only grace Steven with. 

“Marc,” you whisper. “I know it's you.” 

Even the way they hold you is different. Of course, you can always tell. You did not need their voices to tell you who was fronting. 

Marc’s eyes flash open and you’re surprised to see fear there. 

You hold fast to him, though he doesn’t try to pull away. You raise a questioning brow and resume your gentle ministrations, trying to show him without words that you did not treat him carefully because you thought he was Steven. 

“How’d you know?”

You shake your head and press your thumb against the center of his chin, “I can always tell. It’s not something you can really hide.”

He tries to tug his face away from your hand but you don’t let him, stubbornly making him look into your eyes. 

“Baby,” you say, “You know that you are just as deserving-,”

“Don’t,” he says sharply. “Don’t do that.”

“But you are, Marc. I always want to do this but you always leave me,” you stoke a hand through his hair. “I know Steven has talked to you about it, too. Told you that you don’t have to go.”

Marc is stiff against you and you consider for a moment letting him go. 

But you don’t. 

You hold on, and murmur, “It’s okay to want this. It’s okay.” You keep feathering your hand through his hair, your touch as gentle as you can make it. “I love you, you know.” You touch the gold chain around his neck and finally glance away from his eyes, staring at the hollow of his throat instead as you say, “You don’t always have to have your walls up. I’m not - I won’t -,” you stop and consider your next words. “I love you exactly as you are.” 

There’s a long moment of silence after that, one in which your heart beats painfully fast and you wait for Marc to push you away. 

But it doesn’t come, his body slowly relaxes against yours again, your fingers continuing their careful press against his skin. 

His head tips toward the mirror on the wall, and he nods after a few long minutes, carefully plucking up one of your hands, to kiss each of your fingers, the flat of your palm, and then to curl them closed again, hold your hand against his chest. 

You can feel the steady thrum of his heart, and Marc doesn’t look at you when he says. “I want it too.” 

You wait a moment but he doesn’t say more. 

“I’m happy to give it to you, Marc.” 

“You - you give too much as it is.” He pauses for a long moment, before pushing you onto your back, hovering over you, his eyes darting over your face. 

And you’re amazed, wondering, at the love struck expression he wears, like you were the pinnacle of a universe that barely made sense, that was barely held together. 

“Steven deserves this,” he nods down at you. “He’s never-,” 

You hear the unspoken words - that is why Steven was born after all, to be all the things Marc thought he wasn’t, to shield himself. 

“Stop it. Marc, you are not your past. You are not bad. You carry around the weight of the world and these sins you think are yours alone. They aren’t.” You tip your head up to nudge your nose against his, Marc’s hands pinning both of yours to the space beside your shoulders. 

Marc is looking at you in that intense way of his, brows furrowed, mouth tilted in that overly-serious line. 

“And what if I don’t think I deserve it, huh? To get you like this?” 

“Don’t listen to you, then. Listen to me.” You hitch your knees up to frame his hips, holding him against you, levering pressure into the backs of his thighs until he drops down fully against you. “You deserve it. More than most.”

You know everything he’s ever done is flashing through his mind. His brother’s death and his mother’s wrath. His time as a mercenary, his time in the military. The way he thinks he breaks and folds and isn’t strong enough, never strong enough, not enough. The mistake of Khonshu. The way he thinks he failed Layla and Steven, and that he will do it all over again. 

“Hey,” you nudge his jaw again. “Quit that.” 

Marc nods slowly, intense stare pinning you down. “I deserve it.” He says it like he expects you to disagree with him, to laugh. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll remind you of that.” He releases your wrists, burying his nose in your neck, the breath he sucks in is shaky and wild, the drum beat of a storm he stored inside the stoic stone that surrounded his heart. 

You cup a hand against the back of his neck, your other hand sliding down his side, tracing the violent scars that dot his ribs. Carefully, you slide his boxers down his thighs. Your touch is soft against him, your body already welcoming to him, and he slides into you with a quiet groan. 

It’s not like making love with Steven, who was sillier and goofier than Marc would ever be. 

It’s different to how Marc normally fucks you, when the mood strikes him to give it to you slow. 

This time, it's sweet, it's like the smoky burn of incense, like the homecoming he’d been waiting for for years. Marc kisses you softly, groans into your mouth when he was normally quiet aside to talk to you, demand things from you. 

You tighten your legs around him, encourage him to move slower, push deeper. 

“Fuck,” he whispers against the delicate skin of your neck. 

Sweat beads on his forehead, the glow of him against you like the sun. When you push the curls back from his forehead to look into his eyes, you catch something vulnerable in your heart, like the knife of everything Marc was storming into you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs again. 

He ducks his head to kiss a path along your throat, where earlier his palm had circled the flesh. 

You drag your nails along his back, rub a hand through his hair, rock the cradle of your hips along with his. 

Marc reaches for one of your hands, kisses your fingers before guiding your hand to your cunt, “Sorry baby, I’m not gonna last. Need you to touch yourself for me.” 

You’re only a little bit shocked, but you tip his chin up to kiss him. Marc normally had a stamina that could win awards. 

Not now, it seemed. Not when you had given him permission to be slow and gentle and soft. 

Your breath is squeezed from your lungs, the heavy drag of him inside you almost enough to make you come. 

Marc doesn’t let you breathe, his mouth an insistent press against yours until you pull away with a gasp and you hear the sound of a quiet laugh against your throat, teeth digging into your jaw. 

You come unexpectedly, hips jerking up to meet him as Marc gives a harder thrust, looping an arm beneath one of your knees to open you up more, to slide that much deeper. 

The spot he hits within you makes your toes curl, makes it hard to catch a breath. 

“I can destroy you like this too, huh?” Marc asks, grinding against you, hips swirling as you groan from the breathless pleasure darting up your spine. 

“Don’t ruin this, Spector,” you huff, nipping at his jaw, only laughing a little. 

“Keep touching yourself. I didn’t say to stop,” he answers. 

Your eyes roll back when his tongue curls against the hollow of your throat. “I want you to come again,” his voice is a husky rasp in your ear.  

You’re still wearing Marc’s shirt, but when he releases your leg to palm your breasts through the fabric, you regret ever letting him partially dress you. 

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, “You’re so tense. Come for me again, hm? Come for me.” When he pinches your nipple and rolls it between his fingers, you do. White hot pleasure courses up your spine, makes your mind go blank. “Fuck, are you coming?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I’m coming for you.” 

“For me,” he repeats. “For me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, pleasure making your vision go fuzzy, your exhausted body trembling. “Marc, I love you.” 

His hand goes to your ass, angles your hips, before he thrusts so deep you see stars and he spills inside you.

You make sure to wrap your arms around his head, tightening your grip until he wiggles. “Can’t breathe, baby.” But you don’t want him to go anywhere, you don’t want the idea to even occur to him. 

You loosen your grip but say, “Don’t leave.” 

Marc’s jaw tightens, “Sorry about that.” 

“S’ok. Just don’t go.” 

“Not going anywhere tonight, honey.” 

You nod, nuzzling your nose against his cheek when Marc takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your fingers and wrist, your forearm, the crease of your elbow. 

“Stop that,” you grouse, a giggle at the tip of your tongue.

“I’m obsessed with you. I can’t.” 

You do laugh then, and he rolls you onto your side. He slips free from you and you feel the emptiness immediately, but then Marc is kissing you again, insistent and demanding, and it's forgotten. His fingers dance up the column of your spine, tracing the delicate vertebrae of bone with soft fingers. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers. It's so rare to see him without that stoic facade, the burned in self-hatred, that your heart gives a painful thump. 

You kiss his sweaty brow and think to remind him of something. “You’re so good, Marc. You deserve good things. You deserve kindness.” 

He doesn’t answer and you know he’s fighting down that automatic response, so ingrained into him it was almost a part of his DNA. 

“I deserve it,” he murmurs eventually and you figure it's as close as you’ll get to agreement. 

Marc lets you hold him, and he doesn’t try to move once. 

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight

[bunchems]

Marc’s Girl 18+ minors dni

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Summary: Loosening Steven up after trying on an outfit for your date with Marc tomorrow.

Warnings: Shy Steven, some haram drink consumption, premarital skin to skin contact, I think that all.

She looks gorgeous

Steven thought as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you finish up your hair. Marc had him front so you could show him your dress, Steven looked down at himself, white tee with light grey sweatpants on, clearly no underwear. You and Marc have a date night planned for tomorrow and to make sure your outfit was absolutely perfect, you ask Steven for his opinion.

“Okay, done! How do I look?” You smile, spinning and watching as his face warms, taking you in.

“You look per- pretty. Lovely.” He wipes a finger over his brow, hoping you didn’t hear his slip up. “Marc will be thrilled when he sees you.” You laugh and start walking closer to him, noticing how he anxiously fidgets as he wonders how to act around you.

“You don’t think the heels are a problem? I’m almost as tall as you.” You say, pulling his hands so he stands up.

“No- no it wouldn’t be a problem, he would love everything you’ve got on- planned! He would love everything you have planned.” Steven couldn’t help the way his eyes shifted to the mirror, paranoid that Marc would be there to yell at him for talking to his girlfriend like this. But Steven wanted her too. He wondered what it would be like for you to dress up just for him like you do for Marc. What would it be like to be kissed, even on the cheek, by you.

“What about you?” Blinking, he snapped out of his thoughts. “Hm?”

“I asked if you liked it. You keep saying that Marc would like it, but do you?” He’s looking at the mirror again, at the floor, at your feet, at the door, he’s nervous.

“I think you look… pretty.. all the time.” The way your eyes beamed made his heart clench, why did you have to be so incredible.

“Oh yeah? How come you’ve never told me before?”

How could I…

“Well, well you don’t need to be told do you? You know you’re lovely.” That might have been the smoothest thing Steven has ever said, especially when his brain was just dumping thoughts.

“You’re quite the charmer. You’ve never had a girlfriend, have you?” He frowns at the question, the truth is quite embarrassing, of course the truth is that he’s never even had a moment with a girl that was more passionate than holding hands.

“I- yes. I have. I had one when I was..”

Eighteen? Twenty-six? Thirty?

“Twenty.” He lies, watching your jaw drop. “You haven’t had a girlfriend in almost twenty years?!”

Should’ve said thirty.. five?

He looks down, your reaction hurt him, he knows it’s weird that he’s never been with a woman, that’s why he lied to you— but it has been double that, how would you have reacted if he said never?

Steven didn’t bother to answer, of course you noticed how he’s retreated a bit more into his shell.

“There’s nothing wrong with that or anything but I’m just shocked! You’re like the perfect man it’s quite unbelievable.” He looks at you in awe, then closing his mouth and nodding.

“You mean Marc.“ He was about to laugh his little shy laugh but you weren’t having any more of this denial.

“No, I know who I’m talking to, Steven. You and Marc are two completely different people.” You’ve stepped closer to him and he flinched, eyes shifting once again to the mirror, you ponder on that.

“Right.. you and Marc do communicate through reflections right? Is he here right now? ‘Cuz he’s really not supposed to be snooping on my dress.” You said, turning to look at the mirror with a stern look.

“No, he isn’t. I just- sometimes I get nervous that he might be.”

“Why?”

“Well.. you know..”

“No, I don’t think I do..?”

“Really? Well- you- you’re Marc’s girl..” You chuckled at his words, you’ve talked to Marc about this. That dating him and not Steven would be a little different for you and he fully understood. But of course he’d be jealous and not tell Steven this information.

“I can be yours too.” Gasping, he puts his hand over his heart to soothe the pleasurable ache in his chest.

“You don’t mean that..” He sighs, his face holding all the disbelief in the world, you squint at this, hatching an idea.

“You know what? We’ve never had a drink together, I have a bottle of wine that needs to be finished by tonight.. and I do mean that.” It was your smile that ultimately led him to saying yes, taking a distant seat next to you on the couch. The wine glasses were filled equally and you gave the obligatory cheers before taking a sip.

“T’s not as bad as I expected, not as bitter.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite, when this runs out I’m going straight to the store to get another.” His eyes get comically wide, setting his glass down and turning his body to face you.

“If it’s your favorite.. don’t you think you should save it for your date with Marc tomorrow? I mean wouldn’t you want to share this with him on your ..special day?” His voice lost diction as he spoke, subdued by the idea of it not being him that you’d be happily going out with tomorrow.

He takes another sip of his drink as you respond with a voice as sweet as honey. “There’s no one I’d rather share this bottle with, Steven.” He takes another long sip, hiding his smile with the glass and finishing the cup absentmindedly.

“So, how come you haven’t had a girlfriend for such a long time, hm?“ He felt shy at the question, answering in a low voice. “Women have never seemed to like me.. Don’t really blame them, I’ve no idea how to make a woman happy.”

When Marc first told you about Steven one of the first things he mentioned was how he’s treated. No one necessarily likes him yet they don’t have a good reason not to, he gets pushed around but he doesn’t do much about it, not many people talk to him and when they do you’d find yourself wishing that there were still good people on Earth. Marc said Steven doesn’t deserve nearly as much shit as he gets, he actually wants Steven to like you so everyone would be happy.

“That can’t be true.. how’d you ask out your last girlfriend? Or did she ask you?” He didn’t want to continue this lie but with the help of a glass of wine it became a bit easier to think of a way to answer.. without answering.

“Oh, I could never go and talk to a woman. Let alone one that I fancied.” Finally finishing your wine, you make to pour two more glasses, handing Steven his cup and smiling as he takes a bigger sip.

“So that must be why you’re all the way over there?” You figured that by now, the alcohol must be running through his system, of course you figured that because of his sudden inability to hide his smile and the way he looks at you.

“Yeah, sorry, guess I haven’t quite shaken the habit.”

“So you do like me?” He sighs, “‘Course I do.. Jus’ wish I was more like Marc, would be nice to be able to look good, sound cool. I think it would be nice if I could impress you like he does. I dunno.” He shrugs, taking another sip.

“Why don’t you impress me in your own way? Y’know, rather than Marc’s way.” Pressing his lips together, he thinks for a moment.

“Well, like I said, I wouldn’t know how. He’s the one that knows what to do, he’s tried to get me a girlfriend before, y’know? Didn’t work, she threw her drink at me.” You frown, “Why?”

“Well, it was my fault, really. I set our date at a vegan restaurant.” He looks up at your confused face with a small laugh. “She wasn’t vegan, she yelled at me because I didn’t ask what she liked to eat. Actually, a small part of me believes that she did that because she regretted saying yes to me.” His smile fell when he looked at you again, you looked upset, really upset.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?” He sets his glass down and wipes his palms over his thighs, ready to leave in case you were mad at him.

“You could never make me uncomfortable, those girls suck okay? And it most definitely wasn’t your fault.” Standing, you pick Steven’s wine back up and hand it to him, sitting close enough that your legs touch.

When Steven received his glass, he passed it to the other hand. He allowed his left hand to relax but when he felt soft plump skin under his palm he jerked back with fear. “Sorry! I-I’m so sorry!” He was panicking at first, but then you laugh. That beautiful, lighthearted laugh that always seems to calm his nerves.

“What?” He laughs back, subconsciously scooting away. “You’re adorable, I don’t care that you touched my thigh.” He smiled and looked away momentarily.

“You don’t?” When he looked back at you, the comfortable smile on your face had his heart melting.

God she’s beautiful.. focus focus focus..

His thoughts were slow, concentrated on you and how your hand reached for his.

“Obviously not.” He blinked, what were you talking about? Did he miss something that had been said, done? What was happening? After a moment, he answers. “What d’you mean?”

“I thought we established that I want to be your girlfriend.” It takes multiple moments to fully understand what you were saying to him, he sat there blinking at you with the most mixed emotioned face you’ve ever seen.

“You were serious?” The waver in his voice almost broke your heart, “Why? I mean, of course I think you’re amazing.. and I know Marc and I are almost the same person to you but, uhm, d’you think you like me because you like Marc… Or do you actually think that I’m.. do you think- that you could even possibly be happy.. with me?”

“Yes, Steven, of course I can be happy with you. I like you for you, not because of Marc or anyone else. I know you’re sweet and incredibly caring. I know you’re a vegan so I’ll know to buy separate things for you, I know you love Egyptology, which is perfect for me because I think it’s interesting too, I know your fish, Gus, who really needs a companion, I know you’re entirely misunderstood, and I know that I do like you for you.” He contemplates, leg tapping and hands wringing.

“Are you sure?” You laugh at this, but he can’t seem to make himself laugh with you. “Why would I mind that?” He tilts his head in confusion. “Well- well I’m too nervous, for one.” He finishes his wine in a gulp, “I wouldn’t know what to do, how to treat you.” He thought again, the lie he’d told earlier still sitting on his chest weighing him down.

“And you were right earlier.. I’ve never had a proper girlfriend… I lied.” He sighed dramatically, you question him with a frown, feeling your stomach clench. “I just said that because I didn’t want you to know that-“ He stops to think of his words carefully, but no matter how he puts it, it still sounds the same.

“To know what..?” As patient and relaxed as ever, you calmed him down with the sound of your voice. “That no woman has ever really liked me.. because if you knew that, there’s no way that you would want me.” He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was feeling shame, embarrassment, something too unpleasant to bare that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“I just- I know that it could change your mind..” He confirmed after maybe three seconds of silence, you put your hand on his thigh and fight back a giggle when he freezes.

“I do not give a fuck about what any other woman thinks of you. All you need to think about from now on is me, not whoever used to treat you like shit okay?” Even though he hears what you’re saying, his eyes seem to focus on the way you take his glass and put it down along with yours. The way your hips and legs shift to face him, your body coming closer, yours hands coming to the side of his face to tilt his head up so he could look in your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?“ The shock in his eyes only makes your heart flutter. He sighs out an ‘uhuh’ and you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back and laughing at the fact that his eyes are still blissfully closed.

You take that as a sign to press two more soft pecks before using your thumb to pull his lip down, sucking on it and pulling it softly with your teeth. He gasps and pulls away as he looks at you with curious eyes, you were sure he had a question but his eyes trailed away instead, shying away from it.

“What do you want to say?” The attempt to make your voice as sweet as possible must’ve worked since he turns to you, albeit slowly, and starts to mumble. “You- don’t have to say yes, but I wanted to- wanted you to maybe, teach me how to.. kiss.. you…”

“Of course, come with me.”

Part 2 maybe?

#steven grant x reader #moon knight #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #marc spector #black reader #fem reader

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong.

Warning- Angst, cheating and hopeful fluff. ----------------------------------------------------- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Completed -----------------------------------------------------

When they say love is blind it truly is blind cause all the red flags turn color blind. You had noticed changes in his behavior and you also noticed the little things he’d stop doing. Even when Bucky was in Wakanda you remained by his side like glue. Slowly he started to regain his memories and the old Bucky was back not completely though. So when he started to flirt with other girls or when someone random made a pass at him he never denied them you foolish thought he is acting his old 40s self just like Steve had told you once the evergreen womanizer so you ignored it till it was getting out of hand so one day you confronted him but he just said you are overreacting and it's cute to see you getting jealous and the confrontation would end up with a kiss followed by sex every single time when he did it again.

Thanos took a toll on all of you but thankfully everyone were back safe and sound. Tony took semi retirement and Clint too, Nat handle the tower Wanda was in and out cause Vision was in Wakanda and Steve you best friend and once upon a time crush was getting ready to return the stones. "Hey" you coo, "Hey" he beams at you "Ready?" Looking at the compass he looked at you with a sad smile "Yes as ever I will be" "Enjoy your dance Steve and know where you belong ok?" the true meaning behind your words were that you were begging him to have his dance with Peggy and to return back to you guys but that didn't happen as soon as Steve told Bucky not to do anything stupid and when he complained Steve is taking all the stupid with himself you knew he won't come back and just like that he was gone. You cried all night long and Bucky held on to you tight he was equally sad and cried along with you.

It had been fifteen days since Steve left and new recruits had joined Nat and you were training them Bucky helped in between but that didn't stop him from flirting with the girls Nat found it weird and you tried to cover it by saying he is missing Steve and everything is tough for him at the moment but Nat was not having none of it and banned Bucky from training the recruits. Soon he and Sam left on a mission in London and here begins the downfall of your relationship. "Sharon?" Bucky was shocked to see her "What are you doing here?" "Undercover Barnes shield sent me to help you guys" So just like that she was helping them and when they both got separated from Sam and their cover almost blew up Sharon thought it is a great idea to kiss Bucky and he kissed her back and one thing led to another for the time they were in London they had sex daily. When Sam found out he was furious but Bucky told him he would come clean to you but not in the way Sam had thought.

Once they were back Sharon accompanied them she told you all she was helping them in the mission. The day Bucky arrived he went straight to his old room instead of your shared one you decided to let him be it was not new for him to stay alone after a mission but for days Bucky avoided you your heart was paining the glob in your throat wanted to explode Nat was worried about you and Sharon was still living in the tower and now Bucky would only train with her and it killed you when he would talk with everyone except you day by day you were getting killed by the love of your life you would cry to sleep every night, Bucky would sleep far on his side of the bed he would only enter the room late in the night. You started to miss Steve terribly if he was here he would have helped you even kicked Bucky's ass. Weird sexual noises would come from Sharon's room but it was none of your concern except it was. Sam had enough he gave Bucky last warning to come clean and Bucky was ready as if he was tired hiding his 'relationship' with Sharon. It was like almost on purpose both of them decided to show you what was happening behind your back Bucky and Sharon were making out in your shared room you were standing there numb tears flowing freely you gave them few more minutes before opening your mouth "are you done?" Bucky sighed and got up he told Sharon to wait in her room on her way she smirked at you like she won some competition. "I’m sorry Y/n it's over I'm in love with Sharon, I have packed your bags please go back to your old room." You scoffed at him "Just her Buck? So what about those, who you flirt with?" Bucky was quiet he knew he deserve your venom. "I have loved you so deeply but James I can’t forgive you, maybe one day in the future, I have been stood by your side through every single thing that has happened to you and yet you betray me." "Can you give an hour please", he nodded and left the room. You open the packed bags just like you had thought he had packed the things he gifted you, you picked out every single of them and kept them on the bed. Once you were done it was time to face the music the time you were busy re packing since Sam and Wanda were out Bucky told Nat you two broke up hiding the real reason. So when Nat came and asked you what happened you went along with Bucky's lie but karma was in your favor Wanda and Sam had just arrived Sam called Bucky a liar Nat was confused that gave Wanda time to read your mind you begged them not to tell Tony the whole truth you were like sister to him and it took a lot of hard work and trust for Tony to forgive Bucky and you did not wanted to ruin what Steve had worked upon. "Where are you going Y/n?" Nat asks, Wanda was crying feeling your suffocating pain, Sam was saying sorry over and over for not telling you sooner but you forgave him, it's not his fault Bucky couldn't keep it in his pants. "I need some alone time Nat please I can't breathe here give me some time" "You call us everyday ok no call we will bring you back!" Wanda warned understanding your need to go away, you nodded hugging Wanda and Nat, Sam was furious "He should go not you" "No Sam please be nice to him for Steve" and with last look you left. Once the team knew about what had actually happened they gave Bucky hell for what he did to you. Bucky however was feeling very guilty for how things did go down he did love you at one point but that didn't stopped him and Sharon making things official just after a week you left. Things were awkward for him with the team.

Meanwhile in the past Steve did have his dance but he was not happy Peggy had moved on but that was not what was bothering him he was worried about you, he open his compass that had your photo truth is Peggy was his first love but you made home in his heart Peggy was only a memory he only loved you wanted a family with you but when he saw Bucky falling for you he took a step back the ever thinking about other's happiness he let Bucky take you away. Steve decided it was time to head back to his love but most importantly his best friend you.

----------------------------------------------------- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Completed

#bucky barnes angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff

[ahummingbirdwitch]

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,639

Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism

Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!

I fantasize about it all the time

If you were mine

I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5

5 to 9…

~ ~ ~

You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.

Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.

For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.

Cypher.

The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.

He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.

You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”

Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.

On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.

It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.

You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.

In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.

It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.

It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.

It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.

You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.

Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.

Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.

You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”

Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.

Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”

You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”

His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.

Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.

Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.

Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.

In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”

You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.

At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.

Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”

You whimpered.

“Make some more for me.”

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.

“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”

You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.

You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.

You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.

Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”

You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.

Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”

“Call me by my name, my love.”

Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”

“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”

You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”

“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”

“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.

Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”

That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.

You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.

No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?

You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.

As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.

~~~

Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.

Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.

For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.

You.

You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.

You’d started to touch yourself.

Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…

Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.

You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.

Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.

He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.

He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…

Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.

But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?

A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.

No—a name.

A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?

Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?

But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.

Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.

“Cy… Cypher…”

He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…

“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”

Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.

He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?

Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?

Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”

Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.

He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.

“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.

There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.

And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.

No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.

You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…

No. No, that wasn’t right.

It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.

This was… nothing. He was sure of it.

Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.

… Beautiful.

He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?

(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)

#cypher #cypher valorant #valorant #cypher x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer

[jahayla-parker]

My Far Better Half : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 3.4k wc, As far as Kaz is concerned, y/n is his far better half; everything good in the world, everything he wasn’t, and everything that made him a slightly better person. He vowed to keep her safe to the point very few people knew about her or their relationship. So when she acted recklessly, Kaz’s emotions lead to confessions of how he perceived her/their relationship. (Kaz is still canon but is softer here -only to y/n- due to storyline and the fact he’s had years to make progress). Fluff, Slightly Hurt-comfort, minor angst.

Warnings: typical SoC topics, mentions of physical fights (minimal with no detail) and Kazzle Dazzle being hard on himself.

“Why would you do that?!” Kaz snapped. He dragged his gloved hand down his face, making his eyebrows disheveled. The fear of something possibly having happened to y/n due to her acting so carelessly had made Kaz furious. He couldn’t understand why she’d done what she did. Kaz had made it so she didn’t need to do anything like that, and yet here they were.

Y/n looked away from Kaz shyly. She frowned to herself as she glued her sad eyes to the floor of their bedroom. Y/n knew her actions would make Kaz mad long before she even did them; but she had to. Nonetheless, she hated it when Kaz was upset with her. It didn’t happen often and y/n wished it wasn’t happening now either.

Kaz watched y/n closely. He noticed the way she refused to look at him and the sad expression that was now painting her face. Kaz sighed loudly, his left thumb and pointer finger straightening his brows. “You were trying to protect me,” he determined as he replayed the scene in his mind.

Y/n still didn’t gaze up at Kaz, her eyes remaining on the wooden panels of the floor. She was offended he didn’t pick up on the reason behind her actions earlier. But, y/n was also simultaneously embarrassed for how wrong things had gone when she was trying to help him.

Kaz sighed again. He took a step closer to y/n, eyes trained on her as he waited for her to react. When she still didn’t acknowledge him, he pressed his lips into a straight line and took another step. “I’m…,” Kaz cut himself off before rewording his statement, “I shouldn’t have yelled”.

Y/N’s jaw shifted slightly as did her lips, yet she continued to stare blankly at the ground. She didn’t even know how to feel about all of this as she couldn’t tell if she was more mad that he’d yelled at her, or if she was more embarrassed for how things turned out. So, y/n elected it was best to not respond or react for now until she could get ahold of herself more.

Kaz neared y/n further, his cane clicking against the floor was the only sound due to her continued silence. He cautiously took a seat beside her and sighed. “I’m…,” Kaz began slowly, the words uncomfortable for him, “I’m sor-… I’m sorry, y/n.”

Y/N’s gaze snapped up until she was looking at Kaz. His words had stunned her, Kaz Brekker never apologized. Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. After all, during their relationship, there were many times Kaz had to correct his behaviors in apology for something he’d done (or not done). But, for him to actually directly say he’s sorry was a new development. As such, y/n stared at him in shock.

Kaz was the one to look away this time, the eye contact too much given his recent vulnerable statement. “You just….” He groaned. “You scared me,” Kaz reluctantly confessed, eyes staring into the distance. “I can’t… I can’t have anything happen to you,” he said, his voice rough but merely a whisper. The whisper was instinctual as he didn’t want to risk anyone else hearing such a statement. It was only after he’d whispered the words that Kaz remembered they were home, a ways away from the Barrel where someone might be able to eavesdrop.

Y/n frowned at Kaz’s words. She hated that she’d caused him to worry so much today. “I’m okay, Kaz,” y/n reassured him. She turned her body in order to face him better as he stayed seated beside her. “I… I know it wasn’t ideal.., but I made it out of there fine,” y/n reminded him.

“But you might not have!” Kaz lashed out. He didn’t yell, but his frustration was evident in his tone. Kaz felt y/n’s sorrowful eyes on him and he sighed. “It’s my job to keep you safe,” he pointed out, his hands tightly fisted by his sides out of frustration over his recent inability to do so.

Y/n exhaled sharply, her eyes wild as she looked at Kaz in disbelief. She shook her head lightly in protest. “Kaz-,” y/n began, but was cut off when Kaz began speaking again.

“No.” Kaz huffed audibly, his eyes tense. “It’s my job,” he repeated. “I willingly accepted that role the moment we met.” Kaz aggressively shook his head. “You’re far too good for this world,” he declared quietly. “Definitely far too good for the Barrel… and Ghenzen knows, for me-” Kaz continued.

“Kaz,” y/n interrupted sharply. She could see where this was going, and she wouldn’t let Kaz continue to speak that way. Y/n noticed Kaz was about to stop her again, so she shook her head firmly at him. She took her time as she cautiously reached forward and cupped Kaz’s face, being sure to give him ample time to move away or to tell her to stop. When he didn’t, y/n let her warm hands embrace the sides of his devilishly handsome face. She nearly swooned as Kaz unconsciously all-but-melted into her touch. It had taken a long time to get where she could touch Kaz without him getting nauseous or anxious, so for him to not just accept, but actually enjoy her touch continued to make her ecstatic time and time again. Pulling herself back to the moment, y/n smiled softly at Kaz but still gave him a knowing look. “We do this together,” y/n affirmed.

As Kaz went to respond, he felt his lips graze against y/n’s palm and realized he’d leaned into her touch. He could still feel the comforting warmth radiating from her hands. Kaz nodded wordlessly against her palm. After a few moments, he spoke up, “I keep you safe. You keep me soft-…-er..”.

Y/n laughed lightly at Kaz’s need to add ‘er’ to the end of his sentence. But, she lowered her hands from his face and sighed softly as she remembered the sentiment behind the rest of his words. Nonetheless, she knew it was futile to argue with him over this. Y/n elected to accept that at least Kaz agreed they were in this together, even if they didn’t agree on the terms of it yet. As such, she slowly nodded in agreement.

Kaz saw y/n’s reluctant stare and saddened smile. He sighed. “It’s selfish, I know,” he confessed, “but you should be used to that from me by now.” Kaz didn’t let y/n’s scoff of protest stop him from continuing. “But, I don’t want you to change, I want you to stay soft, and kind, and innocent, and not tainted by all of this,” he said, waving his hand as he gestured to the Barrel and the lifestyle it demanded metaphorically.

“It’s not selfish,” y/n argued, shaking her head. She sighed quietly, picking at her fingers. “truthfully I…” y/n trailed off bashfully. Deciding to change what her response was going to be, she shifted to a lighter toned reply. “Obviously, I suck at this kind of stuff anyways,” y/n laughed lightly.

Kaz chuckled briefly, a sound only y/n was permitted to hear; and only in moments like this when they were alone at home. He gave y/n a soft sympathetic curl of his lips before delicately grabbing her hand. “For someone who has never fought two people at once before,” Kaz murmured, still a bit frustrated that it had happened, “it wasn’t atrocious”.

Y/n laughed loudly, smiling bright. “Geee, thanks,” she replied sarcastically. Y/n’s laughter softened as Kaz squeezed her hand to show her he was joking; slightly. “But, honestly…,” she mumbled, biting her lip. “I… I didn’t really care for it…” y/n confessed quietly, her tone serious. “Or how it made me feel…” she elaborated when Kaz’s gloved thumb rubbed the back of her hand supportively.

Y/n felt bad confessing such to Kaz. This was his life, his ways, his skills, and yet, she couldn’t keep up. And even worse, she didn’t like the way it made her feel when she tried to do so. Y/n knew Kaz would support her no matter what, but she still felt like she’d let him down with this realization today.

Kaz hummed tenderly as he squeezed y/n’s hand firmly. “I don’t want that for you,” he said calmly. “I don’t want you to have to do things like that, or to feel like that,” Kaz told her. He could see the emotions in her eyes and knew she was feeling guilty over her confession and he wanted to fix that. Kaz liked that y/n hadn’t had to do the things he had, that she was more pure than him. He didn’t want her to feel bad for that, not when it was just who she was; especially when Kaz adored that about her.

“But, you have to,” y/n sighed, looking up at Kaz. “I hate that I can’t keep up and help you, that I can’t be there for you with this stuff, or-“ she whispered, stopping when Kaz shook his head.

Kaz pulled y/n’s hand closer to his chest, leaning down to place a brief kiss to the back of it. “I appreciate the thought, y/n/n,” he said, something he’d worked on expressing instead of just the next comment he was about to make. “But, I don’t need your help,” Kaz said, “not with this”. He lowered y/n’s hand back down but kept a soft hold on it nonetheless. “I don’t need you to do things that make you feel bad. I don’t want you to feel like that,” Kaz said. He hated how simple and inelegant his words sounded, but he forced himself to remember that sharing such statements was still a positive progression for him.

“But, you shouldn’t have to feel that way either,” y/n argued. Her lips were slightly pouted as she sighed softly. She knew the toll this lifestyle took on her husband, even if he pretended otherwise.

Kaz suddenly looked away from y/n. He gently let go of her hand, setting it on the mattress before he stood up. Kaz made his way to the other side of their room in order to distance himself from y/n. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He shifted his tense jaw as he looked out their window at the trees. “It…” Kaz shook his head, “these things don’t bother me. I’m not a good person, y/n”.

Y/n scoffed loudly, instantly rising from the bed. “Yes you are,” she argued firmly as she made her way to Kaz.

“Dove,-“ Kaz sighed. His tone showed his appreciation for her argument but also his disagreement with it. Kaz kept his eyes on the trees outside their house, not able to look at his wife as he kept pointing out how he wasn’t worthy of her.

“No, it’s my turn”, y/n remarked. She stood before Kaz, partially blocking his view of the outside of their window. “This is my job, isn’t it,” she hummed tenderly, reaching for his hand. Y/n exhaled audibly as Kaz shook his head and continued to avoid her eyes.

“Your job isn’t to try to fix my ego,” Kaz argued even as y/n took hold of his hand. He hated himself for admitting his insecurities. Kaz knew y/n wanted him to do so whenever they came up, but it still wasn’t natural to him to do so. And now he also felt bad for placing such a burden on his loving wife.

Y/n laughed to herself for a second as she rolled her eyes lovingly. “I don’t think that needs fixing, Brekker,” she murmured, smiling up at Kaz as he unconsciously moved closer to her. “Maybe your opinion of your own morality,” she compromised, “but, we’ll get there”.

Kaz shook his head. He leaned forward, grabbing y/n’s other hand and looking down into her y/e/c eyes; the eyes that always calmed him and made him feel better. Kaz felt the corner of his lips curl up faintly. “Darling, my morality is non existent,” he declared firmly.

“That’s not true,” y/n promptly replied. She squeezed Kaz’s hands tightly. “You make plenty of moral decisions and judgements every day,” y/n defended. “Decisions I could never make, but that need to be made. I don’t pity you, Kaz, you know that,” she reassured him, “but, I don’t envy what you have to deal with either”. Y/n took in a deep breath as she gazed into Kaz’s uncertain eyes. “I’m not bothered by the fact that these things are emotionally numb to you by now,” she promised, knowing her husband far too well. “That’s normal, that’s how these things work. You have to do these things day in and day out. Life would be a whole hell of a lot harder if you let everything impact you the way it would those who have never had to do those things,” y/n explained. She pulled Kaz’s hands towards her chest, smiling as he shuffled closer. “It doesn’t change who you are or how I see you,” y/n vowed, gazing at Kaz lovingly.

Kaz swallowed thickly. “It doesn’t?” He asked, flinching as his voice cracked with emotion. “I-… I can’t react to anything appropriately… not the way you can,” Kaz pointed out as his eyes analyzed y/n’s to see if she was telling the truth. He knew y/n usually would be, but right now he couldn’t be sure.

“You’re wrong,” y/n said simply. She tilted her head to the right and teasingly acted as if she was thinking deeply. “Twice in one day, handsome. Aiming for a new record I see,” y/n hummed playfully. She smiled as Kaz scoffed lightly in response. “But, sincerely Kaz,…” y/n slowly let go of one of his hands. She then brought her now free hand up to brush some loose strands of chestnut hair from where they hung over Kaz’s left brow.

“Just last week,” y/n recalled warmly, “we saw that stray dog.” She let her thumb faintly brush over the skin just above Kaz’s eyebrow after she moved his hair out of the way. Y/N’s smile grew as Kaz’s cheeks flushed and his lips curled faintly despite clearly trying to remain stoic. “Honey, I saw the way your eyes warmed immediately and the joy you felt when it finally had a home when we brought it to Wylan and Jes’s place,” she informed her husband gently. “I saw the way you were suppressing a smile when I came to visit you as the club last night,” y/n continued, only having just begun her list of examples.

“Speaking of which, dove,” Kaz interrupted. His free hand shook infinitesimally as he rested it on y/n’s hip.

“I know,” y/n said, stopping Kaz from giving her another lecture. “I need to alert Rotty or you first, so someone can guard me on the way into the Barrel next time,” she smiled. “Even though that defeats it being a surprise,” y/n jokingly muttered under her breath, making Kaz smirk. “See,” she said, tone tender but serious again, “that right there, you watching out for me”.

“I’m forever going to do that, Y/n,” Kaz proclaimed. His fingers on y/n’s hip squeezed into her softly.

“I know,” y/n smiled. “But think about it, truthfully did you ever expect yourself to go out of your way like that for anyone?” She inquired, resting her free hand on Kaz’s shirt collar.

“No,” Kaz admitted. He laughed quietly, a small smile on his lips as he shook his head. “You were a plot twist I didn’t see coming,” Kaz explained.

Y/n smiled and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. “A good one?” She whispered. Normally it would be a rhetorical question, but after she’d embarrassed herself with her inability to fend for herself when trying to hold off two brawlers earlier today, she was slightly unsure.

Kaz’s face took on a bashful look. “G-“ he paused and forcibly swallowed. His cheeks flushed darker as he looked into y/n’s eyes before continuing. “Great one,” Kaz corrected.

Y/n hummed, her body releasing some pent up tension. She felt her body melt into Kaz’s hands more as she took his words to heart.

“I told you,” Kaz pointed out as he watched y/n’s reaction. “You’re my far better half, and I’m good with that arrangement.”

Kaz resisted a chuckle when y/n sighed in disagreement. “Just listen,” he spoke as softly as he could. “I appreciate everything you’re saying and doing, Y/n. But, I’ll forever be a million steps behind you in this regard,” Kaz acknowledged. “And I’m fine with that. But, I will never stop working on it for you; for us”. He felt like his face was on fire with how warm it had gotten as he confessed that out loud.

Y/n beamed lovingly at Kaz. She took her time leaning forward, giving him time to pull away before her forehead reached his. As y/n’s brows brushed against Kaz’s, she stared deeply into his eyes. “I love you,” she cooed peacefully.

Kaz took a quick but deep breath. He’d said it countless times before, but it still was new to him. Each time he said it, he could feel the full weight of the words. Kaz actually found that feeling to be a good one. Yet, it made him carry even more emotion when saying it and that was still something he was working on. But, as Kaz reminded himself it was y/n he was saying it too, and hearing her declaration of love for him echo in his mind, it somehow also felt effortless. “I love you too”.

Epilogue

Kaz grinned to himself as he watched y/n from a few feet behind her. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she was running gleefully though the field of wildflowers made his body feel warm and fuzzy. It had taken Kaz some time to realize that particular sensation was a good thing. But, by now, he was used to it and actually found it extremely comforting.

“Kaz!” Y/n cheered, a little giggle escaping her lips as another butterfly flew by her. “Come on!” She encouraged excitedly. Y/n extended her hands outwards towards where Kaz was.

Kaz chuckled happily as he watched the birds and butterflies flutter around y/n’s twirling body. He hummed contentedly as he made his way to her. Once he’d reached y/n, he set his bare hands in her palms that she was holding upwards expectantly.

Y/n beamed at her husband, her heart skipping a beat as he smiled back at her. She smirked before quickly spinning them around. She was attentively analyzing Kaz’s reaction to make sure she was not doing it in a way that would aggravate his bad leg. When he chuckled a bit louder than normal, his exposed fingers tightening their grip on her hands, y/n joined in his laughter with a wide smile.

After a few too many spins, y/n stopped so they could regain their balance. She felt Kaz’s hands resting on her waist tenderly to keep her steady as their laughter began to simmer down. Y/n looked up to find he was already staring at her. She bit her lip bashfully as she stared back, internally melting as they held affectionate eye contact.

Kaz waited until he could see the dizziness leave y/n’s face before he leaned forward. He closed his eyes as he pressed a soft and short, but nonetheless loving kiss to her warm lips. As much as Kaz wished he could do more, this was another big step he’d made; thanks to y/n. And as such, despite the desire to be able to kiss her longer, Kaz was ecstatic he could at least do this.

“You’re my far better half,” y/n whispered to Kaz. Her eyes were soft and full of love.

Kaz defiantly shook his head even as it rested against y/n’s forehead. “I’ll accept that I’m your other half,” he compromised, “by the inexplicable grace of whatever Saints Inej claims are out there.” Kaz’s hand shook lightly as his bare skin brushed against y/n’s cheek. “But, the far better half belongs to you, my love.”

Y/n sighed and shook her head in disbelief. She went to pull back when she felt the sight tremor in Kaz’s hands. But, when he silently pleaded her not to, she stopped. Y/n exhaled breathily as she tried to find a way to get it through to Kaz how much she disagreed with his viewpoint on the matter at hand.

Kaz watched as y/n began leaning in with her eyes still open. He noticed the way her eyes scanned his for approval or for a sign to stop. His heart swelled at the considerate gesture. Kaz smiled and nodded before closing his eyes y/n placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

As Kaz and y/n parted, he took a shaky breath. Yet, the trace tears in his eyes weren’t from feeling like he was drowning. It was the opposite; y/n was the one person who warmed his cold heart and made it feel as though he were floating. Y/n truly was his far better half, and that was a stance Kaz would defend until the end of time.

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[rafedaddy01]

Warnings: smut, dominance, jealousy, punishment, oral fem receiving, overstim, choking, name calling, language, 18+

Not proof read

Every year I’d come visit obx in the summer and stay with my grandparents. They lived on the rich side of town and I got mixed in with a bad group of friends, I’d gotten into a bad coke addiction and every time I’d get high with Rafe we’d end up hooking up. I didn’t mind it and neither did he, we both agreed to not let feelings get in the way and it’d be a friends with benefits thing. But when I was getting to close to kelce at the party that night I felt Rafes eyes searing into mine as my hand laid on kelces thigh, his lips pressed into my ears whispering dirty things as I giggled at the thoughts. I knew Rafe was jealous, it was written all over his face. The way his jaw clenched and his eyes grew dark, fists balled up ready to hit something or someone. “Y/n. Come with me. NOW!” He said sternly. “Yo. What’s your deal Cameron” kelce spoke up. “It’s okay, I’ll be back” i said reassuring kelce everything was fine, but i most definitely knew i wouldn’t be coming back, Rafe was about to plow into me and i probably wouldn’t be able to walk like usual. I liked when he’d get dominate over me but tonight I didn’t know I pushed him over the edge. Rafe had started to develop feelings for me that I wasn’t aware of and he wasn’t either until he saw you getting cozy with one of his best friends. “What the fuck do you think your doing” he spoke once we both entered his room. “What? I can’t talk to other guys. I thought we agreed this was just casual sex. I’m not yours Rafe” I said rolling my eyes at him. He came up to me and gripped my throat harshly. “Rafe!” I gasped trying to catch my breath as he peered into my brown irises, his however went from blue to black, filled with rage and lust. “You need me to remind you who you belong too?” He clicked his tongue throwing me on the bed harshly. “Strip” he instructed. I scoffed at his words “I’m not fucking you cameron”.

“I said strip” he spoke so calmly it sent shivers down my spine. I knew I was pushing his buttons and agitating him more, I removed my clothes as he watched very piece of item removed and tossed on the ground. “Now spread those pretty legs for me and touch yourself. You wanna act like a slut you get treated like one” he said taking a seat at the desk chair that sat in the corner. I was shocked at what he was asking me to do, I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone and the thought of it made me nervous, butterflies imploding in my stomach. “Rafe….. I can’t do that. To embarrassing…..” I spoke as my cheeks flusheded bright pink. “Don’t make me come over there y/n” as the threat left his lips I peeled my legs open and started toying with the sensitive bud, circling it with the pads of my fingers. “Keep your eyes on mine” he said unbuckling his belt and pulling his pre cum covered cock out, stroking it as I shifted my eyes on his and increased my motions. “Fuckkkkk” he hissed as I insetted one finger in my hole, eyes never leaving his. His eyes darted down to were my thrusts became faster, adding a second finger, curving them into a c shape. “Shit Rafe- please- please touch me” I moaned trying to keep my body from falling against the bed. “No, your gonna keep touching yourself until you cum, and then maybe I’ll reward you” he spat harshly as he continued his movements on his cock. I kept pumping myself as my eyes threatened to close as I was so close to cumming, the core in my lower stomach tightening. He reminded me to keep looking at him. It was so hot watching him jerk himself off to me masturbating. My mouth made an o-shape as I moaned his name, pussy clenching my skinny fingers desperately wishing it was his or his lengthy cock, but this would do. “Fuck fuck fuck” he said as his seed spilled in his hand and I laid limp on the bed. To focused on coming down from my high I didn’t hear Rafe move over to me until I felt his tongue lapping at my senses I’ve area “Rafe! To sensitive” I cried as he pushed his face deeper causing me to fall back onto the bed crushing his head begween my legs. I came a second time before pushing him away. “I’m not done with you yet” he spoke ripping his shirt off and slamming into me, overstimulation washing over me as I screamed his name. “Your mine, don’t ever think you can fuck anybody else” he grunted as his balls smacked against my ass, I was already so close to a third orgasm as he slapped my face hard bringing me back to reality. “Watch me as I make you cum” he said thrusting into me harder. I was so turned on, getting wetter with each of his thrust making it easier for him to pump his full cock into me. “Fuck Rafe” I whimpered as he smirked loving me in this fucked out state. “So full of my cock, who can make you feel this good pretty girl” when i didn’t answer he pinched my clit making me cry out in pleasure and pain. “You-y-ou Rafe….. only y-oh you daddy” I struggled to get out. “That’s right. You gunna cum for me again” he asked as I felt his cock twitch in me, close to his release as well. “Yes! Oh god yes!” I moaned arching my back pushing myself further on his cock. “Give it to me baby” he grunted as my eyes fluttered shut and I came harder than before. “Shit, so hot” he said pulling out and watching the white rim of your mixed juices on the base of his cock.

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