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darby-rowe · 3 months

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— baby blue, bambi, & you.

academy!coriolanus snow x academy!sejanus plinth x academy!fem!reader

18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2.2k cw frotting, voyeurism, f. masturbation, m/m/f threesome, double penetration, dirty talk, swearing, light degradation, face slapping, cunnilingus, anilingus (f. receiving), spit play, p in v, anal, unprotected sex (please use protection), creampie (vaginal & anal), not proofread notes [cries while i throw this at yall] HERE JUST TAKE IT. TAKE IT AND LEAVE. im gonna be so honest and say that writing threesomes are so hard, so hopefully yall like this!!! loosely based off of this ask.

You swore you were only gone for a little over ten minutes.

You quickly ran down the street to grab some snacks for the study session you were about to have with your friends Coriolanus and Sejanus. Just a couple of sweet and savory treats to nibble on as the three of you cram for finals. It was your fault for insisting the two boys stay back while you made your run because you were sure they would be a distraction. And you wanted to get down to studying as quickly as possible.

But now here you were, mouth agape like an idiot, staring through the crack in your door as you watched Coriolanus and Sejanus frotting their cocks together. In your own bed.

What the hell is someone supposed to do in this situation? You didn’t want to interrupt them because that would just be mortifying for all three of you. But if you let them keep going, who knew how long that would take? Were they planning on fully railing each other in your bed, completely unbeknownst to your shocked gaze? You still had the tote bag of snacks stupidly hanging off your shoulder. Maybe you should’ve jostled it around to make your presence known, give them time to collect themselves before you enter?

However, you didn’t do that. You didn’t do anything. You didn’t move a muscle. You just. Kept. Staring.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong to spy on two people like this, watching as Coriolanus laid on his elbows while Sejanus sat on his knees, squeezing their hard cocks as he humped them back and forth. The way Coriolanus’s blonde curls fell into his blue eyes as he stared up at Sejanus with parted lips, panting ever so slightly and softly rubbing Sejanus’s forearm. Both boys had their pants and underwear pulled down just enough so their cocks could spring free (they must have been desperate to feel each other). From this angle, Sejanus looked as if he towered over Coriolanus, his build looking a lot stronger as he took control. Sweet melodic moans escaped Sejanus’s lips, and a couple of curses were heard beneath Coriolanus’s breath.

You had to squeeze your legs together as you quickly found yourself becoming more and more wet as you watched. You always found the two of them cute, and the prospect of dating either one of them wasn’t too far out of your reach. But at that moment you were plagued by even more questions. Were they dating each other without your knowledge? How come they never told you? Was this just one of those weird male obligation things? Like, “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine”? You never got men, and you surely were more confused now more than ever.

You slowly sat the tote bag down on the ground before slipping your hand underneath your skirt to rub at the growing wet spot on your panties. Now this was wrong, and you knew it, too. You felt as if you weren’t better than a common pervert spying on his neighbors through his window. Your mouth watered as your eyes trained on their cocks sliding against each other. You never knew they were both so… big. Coriolanus had more length while Sejanus was more thick. And for a split second, you wondered to yourself how they would both fit in your mouth.

The sheer thought of having both of their dicks in your mouth makes you rub yourself harder. You can almost even taste the saltiness of their skin right on your tongue. You end up closing your eyes for just a moment before looking back through the crack of your door, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making noise.

Coriolanus threw his head back and let out a moan that made your tummy do flips. It just made sense that such a pretty noise would come from a pretty boy. You dared to lean in further, to garner more of their conversation as you slipped your hand inside your panties to rub your clit more directly.

Sejanus was panting as he continued to hump above Coriolanus, occasionally letting out a curse or a small groan to vocalize his pleasure. “Feels good, yeah?” Sejanus mumbled, eliciting a small, “Fuck yeah,” from the blonde boy below him. You bit down harder on your lip.

“Gonna cum all over your cock,” Sejanus said under his breath, making Coriolanus mewl with excitement as he gripped at your bedsheets.

The blonde boy rocked his hips further into Sejanus’s grip. “Fuck yeah, cum all over me,” he growled through gritted teeth.

God, I want them to cum inside me, you thought.

You completely forgot about your moral dilemma from earlier. Everything about the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes was hot. So insanely fucking hot. It just made you rub at yourself faster and faster.

You wanted so badly to shove your fingers inside yourself and fuck your wet pussy as you watched the two boys frot their cocks together, but you knew the squelching would be loud enough to reach their ears. You had to settle for just teasing your clit, which was completely fine because you felt yourself already getting close to cumming.

The way Sejanus looked down at Coriolanus, talking to him with such filth as the blonde boy’s eyes filled with need — all of it was too much. Your thighs began to shake as the warmth in your lower abdomen began to unravel. You rubbed yourself more, and more, and more, until—

Your orgasm rocked your entire body, causing you to go a bit lightheaded and trip over your feet. In an effort to catch yourself, your hand desperately grabbed at your doorknob and you stumbled into your bedroom, completely exposing your perverted self to your friends. Your mouth and throat went dry, hand still down your skirt as you felt heat rise to your face and your blood go cold.

“Oh— oh, fuck,” you blurted out as the two boys stared at you. Coriolanus’s blue eyes seemed to pierce right through your very soul, and at that moment you were convinced you committed the most violating act of overstepping boundaries in your life. You quickly retracted your hand from beneath your skirt. “I am… I-I am so fucking sorry. I’m… I just—”

You really were a deer caught in headlights — caught in the headlights of Coriolanus’s and Sejanus’s gazes. However, Sejanus’s eyes were a bit softer than what you were expecting. And you also noticed how they didn’t scramble to get their clothes back on. Your eyes squinted. What was going on?

It wasn’t until Sejanus chuckled breathlessly at you and extended out a hand, waving you over towards the bed. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he assured. “C’mere, join us,”

You had to take a moment to process his words, but it wasn’t long before you quickly ripped off your cardigan and took Sejanus’s hand. His strong arm pulled you in for a deep, sloppy kiss as you crawled onto your bed, swiftly getting pushed down towards Coriolanus. You straddled the blonde boy’s waist as you leaned down to kiss him as well, lightly gasping as you felt the brown-haired boy flip up your maxi skirt and pull down your panties.

“God, you were really wet watching us, huh?” Sejanus teased from behind you, causing your face to heat up even more. You were about to defend yourself until you felt Sej’s warm tongue lick a stripe from your clit all the way up, up, up to your asshole. You shivered and let out a small whimper, eliciting a chuckle from Coryo.

“You were touching yourself, weren’t you?” Coryo teased, gently caressing your heated face with his cold hands. He let his thumb trace over your bottom lip and you gladly parted your lips to let him inside your mouth. “Such a naughty girl,”

You flinched a bit as you felt Sejanus spit onto your asshole, slowly pressing his finger inside you, eliciting a low groan from your throat. “How would you feel if we fucked both your holes, hm? Gonna spy on us and not expect to get the full treatment?”

You had to admit: Sejanus’s words shocked you. Everything was moving so fast. One moment you were out buying meaningless snacks to study and now you were about to have two out of three of your holes stuffed at the same time. You could barely even get any words out, only incoherent groans and whimpers.

You batted your eyelashes down at Coriolanus, who promptly smirked cheekily up at you and lightly slapped your cheek a couple of times. “Haven’t said a single word, yet,” he taunted. “C’mon, you dirty little pervert — do you want both our cocks inside you?”

The heat in your cheeks never left you, and when you didn’t respond for a few seconds, you gasped and yelped as you felt a sudden smack on your ass from Sejanus.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” Sejanus said, lightly rubbing his warm hand on the place of impact, making you softly whimper as words tried to escape your throat.

And Sejanus made speaking even more difficult as you felt him slowly begin to rub his rock hard cock in between your ass, making the words catch in your throat once more. Coriolanus gripped your face and forced you to look down at him, making you gasp.

“I asked you a fucking question, pervert,” The blonde boy snarled, earning you another slap on the cheek. “You’re a big girl, yeah? So answer us,”

“Yes!” You cried before the two boys could continue. “Please, god, just fuck me. Fuck me, please,”

“Aww,” Coriolanus mocked. “She speaks, Sejanus. Do you think we should give this perverted slut what she wants?”

You felt a soothing hand splay on your back. “Don’t be mean to her, Coryo,” Sejanus cooed, retracting his cock from between your ass to position at your entrance. “We can’t have her all worked up when I’m trying to — god — shove my cock in her ass,”

You grunted and threw your head back as you felt Sejanus’s thick cock slowly enter your ass, fisting hard at your bedsheets as you withstood the sharp sting. Even though Coriolanus could be a brat at times, the boy still had the heart to kiss you through the pain.

And soon enough, Sejanus’s cock was all the way inside you, and breathing deeply to regulate yourself, Coriolanus pushed inside your pussy with ease. The sound of both boys being enveloped by your tight holes had your head spinning, and slowly, you felt the two of them begin to fuck themselves inside you.

“Fuck…!” You cried, feeling Sejanus’s hand soothingly rub your back as he thrusted his dick in and out of your tight ass. The sweet, sweet sound of Sejanus relishing in how tight you are, his groans of pleasure, his warm hands on your back and hips — it made your mind hazy, growing more and more drunk on their cocks.

“Can’t… can’t take it… ‘s too much…” You mumbled, earning a condescending giggle from Coriolanus, who took it upon himself to wrap his arms around your waist and start fucking upwards into your squelching pussy.

If it was possible, your fingers dug deeper into your bedsheets as you let out strained cries and moans of pure ecstasy as you felt so incredibly full.

“Such a naughty little girl,” Coriolanus teased, his breath catching from the amount of energy he was exerting from fucking up into you.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Sejanus added, his moans melodically mixing with yours, creating a symphonic cacophony of ecstasy. You had no idea what to do with your body, trading sloppy lazy kisses with Coriolanus periodically, body jolting whenever Sejanus smacked your ass.

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm already drawing close, feeling like your body was going to explode with the mixture of sensations happening inside you. Your nerves felt so hot that you thought you were about to explode into flames, getting fucked so hard and good by your two hot classmates. Your mind felt dumb, blank, too hazy to even think.

“I can feel your pussy about to cum,” Coriolanus said from beneath you. “C’mon, cum on our cocks. Yeah, that’s right, you naughty girl,”

Your body began trembling uncontrollably, and with a sob and a cry, the coiling within your lower stomach came undone. You felt your pussy gush out your juices with each pulse of your orgasm, the sheer power of it all making you nearly collapse onto Coriolanus’s body who continued to hold you through your high.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in your ass,” Sejanus mumbled, immediately followed by a pretty groan as he released himself within you. Coriolanus followed suit, cumming so hard and deep within your pussy that you swore you felt his seed enter straight into your womb.

You laid there panting, spent, filled with cum like the whore you secretly wanted to be as the two boys soothed your used body with their hands. You wanted to speak up, to say anything about what just transpired between the three of you, to ask what your relationship was going to be moving forward. But you could only muster to say one thing.

“I think…” you panted, swallowing hard. “I think we should get to studying now…”

darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.

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delicatenarwhal · 2 years

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I decided to try out having a nonlinear narrative for a wip with very low stakes and I'm now in a hell of my own making

#help #i thought it would make it interesting #but now i have two different timelines #one which happens chronologically and another that is in the past #and im trying to outline it in such a way that there's a flashback and a present scene in each chapter #but since i kind of want them to stand alone in its own it means that i have to pick a flashback that fits the present time in some way #and i dont know where to even start because i dont want to have to outline the story fully #because im a pantser at heart and planning ahead just takes a lot out of me #so im here trying to pair up a sentence or two from the past with something thats happening right now #and now that i think of it i could make only present chapters sometimes #and only past ones #uuuuUuuuuU #okay solved it #the narwhal writes

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heartpascal · 10 months

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or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

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bambisnc · 29 days

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operation : true love - how likely riize is to NOT confess!

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : food mention + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : im guessing maybe 400ish? -> update its 495!

shotaro : 2/10 - cutie would plan out eveyrhting the moment he sees you and has that italicised oh moment - i'm talking your favorite flowers delivered by hand followed by your ideal date + lots of fairy lights/candles. trust me.) and woo you exactly how you deserve to be wooed <3 would get a little anxious about making everything perfect for you tho

eunseok : 7/10 - he'd lowkey be such a tsundere ... thanks to my talk w mai i'm fully convinced he's the Only academic rival to lover to exist. would for sure pine after you silently and end up confessing in the middle of an argument. you know like "why do YOU care who i'm going out?" "BECAUSE. i like you. okay bye."

sungchan : 192830429283/10 - im biased sorry. but you can't tell me you don't see best friend!him being so obsessed with you - like all your friends know it, hell even you know it but the guy himself refuses to admit. is so "we're besties!! it's natural for us to hug and hold hands and make out between classes in the janitors closet :D i mean what. i didnt say anything" coded like c'mon

wonbin : a solid 13/10 - i feel like he'd be really conflicted. like on one hand he'd rather you be the one to confess but on the other he wants to do like a huge romantic gesture and be the one to confess to you. i can imagine there being this one phase of time where he'd kinda start ignoring you to get you to reach out to him or wtv tactics the insta/tiktok girlies (gn) teach him too

seunghan : 5/10 - okay but i see him either just randomly blurting it out of nowhere over a voice call or while ur ft-ing ("hey this cat reminded me of u" "aww haha im in love with you" "WHAT") OR doing it via a more traditional, thought out kinda way ... maybe like making you a gift or writing you a love letter/song :(( <3

sohee : 4/10 - bbg is confessing to you so fast. he'd only do it once he confirms (multiple times) that you both like each other though. is immediately planning the best way he could confess to you. does all his necessary research, books everything in advance - goes all out to ensure there's no hitches, basically. him and taro probably share notes

anton : 11/10 - bro is Not confessing. you can feel free to tho he'll say yes obvi! as soon as he gains back enough conherence after he (half) faints that is. for sure the type to get you soso many gifts and he'd try to be so casual about it too "hey i got u a customized acessroies set with the fav flower/colour you like" "anton wtf" "uh no dw i had an extra hahaha". def gets u guys matching stuff a lot too

notes : imma not be online for at least a day (shocker) so queueing this!!!! -> well that was a lie <3 + [m.list] song rec : LOVE ME BACK BY FROMIS 9 WEEWOO WEEWOO

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

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I Get Scared Too

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, reader injury, mentions of gunfire, hints to anxiety attack

A/N: this idea was from a dream i had (im a lucid dreamer). i have been writing in a dream journal since elementary school, so you can imagine the dreams i have jotted down 😭

The mission hadn’t gone to plan, shocker, but everyone kept all their limbs and were able to walk back to the quinjet.

You had a close call, you didn’t see the previously passed out agent sitting back up raising his gun to your back. Obviously before he could fire somewhere vital, Natasha had taken him down, faltering his aim. Although the bullet had skimmed you deep on your hip.

It was hardly life threatening, but Natasha being a protective best friend, scolded you for being reckless. You knew her intentions were good, and that she cared about you, but it didn’t stop you from being annoyed at her treating you like a kid.

She eventually walked to the other side of the quinjet, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought you had done really well, taking down twice as many enemies than last time. But of course, everyone always focused on your flaws, what you had done wrong.

When the quinjet finally landed back at the compound, you were the first one out, having a slight limp from the discomfort in your hip. But otherwise didn’t mind it, you wanted to find your favorite person and tell them all about the mission.

“FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?” You called out to the air once you were inside.

“Bucky is currently in his room, Miss (Y/n).” She announced, making you smile in excitement.

The mission had only been a three day trip, but you had missed him the second you stepped on the quinjet.

Arriving at his door, you knocked three times, hearing shuffling from inside. The door swung open to reveal an unhappy looking Bucky, causing your smile to waver. Assuming he was just having a bad day, you smiled wider and stepped forward to hug him.

“Hi Buck, I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tighter when you didn’t feel him hug back.

His body tensed, and immediately you released him and stepped back. You were confused at what was wrong, his face was cold. You were hurt that he hadn’t hugged you back, wondering if you had done something to make him mad.

“Missed ya too um... You should go (Y/n).” He spoke finally, his voice holding annoyance.

You blinked up at him and shook your head, fully confused now.

“Buck wha— what’s going on?” You asked hesitantly, anxious that Bucky was being so short with you so suddenly and you didn’t know why.

“Nothing, I just wanna be alone.” He told you, and your heart broke for two reasons.

One, the thought of Bucky having an episode and you weren’t here for him made your heart hurt.

And two, he always came to you when he was upset and the fact that he didn’t want you with him… It stung.

You stared at him as your eyes started to water, your bottom lip starting to quiver. Your heart ached, but you wanted to respect his need for space. You didn’t know what else to say, and considering the lump forming in your throat, you decided to keep it short.

“Alright yeah, of course. I’ll… See you at dinner then.” You told him, watching him retreat back into his room and slam the door, making you flinch.

You were frozen in place, staring at the door expecting him to come back out and tell you it was all a prank. But several minutes passed and you were still staring at the door.

_____________________

You pushed the food around on your plate, keeping your eyes casted down. You had tried to get Bucky's attention, ever since you watched with glossy eyes as he passed his usual seat next to you, and instead sat at the other end of the table. He was avoiding your direction and never attempted to make eye contact.

Bucky giving you the cold shoulder, being silent with you was extremely painful. Considering how well you two communicated and talked, you were the one who had brought him out of his shell. It hurt so bad your chest ached physically.

Out of nowhere, you were slamming your fork down on the plate with a loud clank, causing everyones attention to snap to you.

"What's the matter with you cupcake?" Tony asked you, taking a sip from his wine glass.

Feeling embarrassed from everyones stares, you snuck a glance at Bucky at the end of the table, surprised when you met his concerned eyes.

You scoffed, shaking your head in bewilderment. He had no right to act concerned, after ignoring you. You almost felt bad for him, thinking he was having a bad day, but after you watched him chatter playfully at dinner with everyone, you realized it was only you he didn't want to speak to.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/n)!?" Tony announced, banging on the table to get your attention when he noticed you spacing out.

Everyone was concerned about you by now, all watching you carefully. You glared at Bucky and stood up without answering Tony, pushing your chair back and quickly exiting the dining room.

"Must be her time of the month." Tony mumbled, earning a slap to the back of the head from the redhead next to him. "Ow... What?!"

"Shut up Tony." Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Bucky and giving him a 'What did you do' look.

_____________________

Laying in bed on your side, you pulled the blanket tighter to your chest with a sniffle. You began to turn over on your other side when your hip throbbed painfully at the movement. The waves of pain had your body shuttering, your eyes filling with fresh tears, rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You blamed your tears on your hip pain, but all the emotions you’d piled up since you’d gotten back from the mission was weighing on you now.

Light knocks sounded from your door, causing you to tense up and turn your back to the door. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially if it was him.

“(Y/n)? I know you heard me.” Natasha muttered, opening the door, letting herself in.

“What do you want Nat?” You snapped, not meaning to take out your frustrations on her.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on? Your little scene downstairs has everyone worried.” She told you, earning a scoff from you, still refusing to face her.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, wishing she could leave so you could attempt to sleep your issues away.

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” She retorted, huffing in annoyance when you stayed silent.

You were staring at the wall, biting your lip, trying to hold in your built up emotions. Too busy to notice Natasha whispering to another person entering the room. It was when you felt the edge of the bed behind you dip down that snapped your attention back.

“Hey doll,” Bucky greeted, “How’s your hip?”

You twisted your body back facing his worried form, but your eyebrows were furrowed on how he even knew about your injury.

“How did you…”

“Nat told me.”

Rolling your eyes, you were cursing under your breath. Throwing the blanket over your head in attempt to hide.

Your blanket cocoon was quickly ripped away by Bucky, pulling the blanket all the way down below your knees. His eyes dancing around your bandaged hip, clenching his jaw at the red seeping through the white gauze.

“(Y/n), is your hip feeling okay? Do we need to change it—“

“I’m fine!” You snapped, “Now go away.”

You we’re looking everywhere but his eyes, knowing you’d break down if you saw the disappointment in them.

Bucky was taken a back, but he couldn’t be all that angry when he’d brought all this on himself. He just got into this weird headspace when he’d heard the mission report, hearing that you’d been hurt. He realized it wasn’t fatal, but he didn’t like seeing his girl hurt at all. He realized he took it a little too far, he didn’t mean to make you upset the way he did. He’d shut you out and he felt like his old self when he’d first arrived at the compound again. Anxious and closed off, pushing you away when he really wanted to pull you into his arms and tell you how much he loves you.

“Doll, talk to me.” He practically begged, his metal arm whirring, having to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” You rushed out, your voice louder than you intended it to be, “Is it because I messed up on the mission? A-are you disappointed in me or something? Huh?”

Your chest was rising and falling in a fast rhythm, your mind going haywire at the possibilities of why Bucky was suddenly indifferent with you. Your throat felt like it was tightening up.

Bucky stayed silent, his heart hurting, feeling terrible for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t stop your mind from producing the awful thoughts, and like a switch had been flipped, the dam inside of you cracked. The tears wouldn’t stop, your sobs painful sounding

“Is it… Is it because you— I— Do you not love m-me anymore?” You wheezed out.

Bucky snapped out of his silent trance, his hands cupping your face, brushing away the tear streaks.

“Baby no…” He hushed, trying to stop your mind from torturing yourself.

“I’m so sorry Buck, I-I love you so much and I…” You hiccuped, “If I did something— If I’m not good enough—“

“No Doll hey… Stop that,” He cooed, “You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?”

“Bu-but you…”

“I know baby, I’ve been a dick. I shouldn’t of shut you out like that I was just… I was scared.” Bucky confessed, your tears and breathing slowing down, you sitting silent besides the occasional hiccup.

“I still… I don’t understand?” You thought out loud.

Bucky breathed heavily, swallowing the forming lump in his throat. He scooted closer to you, pulling your form closer to him, and you let him.

“(Y/n), you have no idea how scared I was when I heard you had gotten hurt.” He started, watching your face soften at his wavering voice.

“Buck, I’m okay though.” You reassured him, grabbing his palms, rubbing your thumb comfortingly over the back of his hand.

“I know baby, but… I couldn’t help but think if you got hurt on a mission and—“ He panted out, “And you didn’t make it.”

Your heart ached at the pain laced in his words, him holding onto your hands in a desperate grip.

“Buck..”

“I know that doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick to you I… I just get into this headspace every time you are headed back from a mission, when I’m waiting to hear that you’re alright and… When I heard you had gotten hurt— I just assumed the worst.” He finished.

The disappointment was clear on his face, but it wasn’t directed toward you, it was directed to himself.

You understood that he meant no harm, and you felt incredibly bad that he suffered so much while you were gone, you thought it was the other way around. You felt extremely loved in a sense, feeling lucky enough to have someone worry as deep as he did for you.

“Buck, you should’ve just told me how you were feeling from the start. You know I’d listen,” You paused, doubt clouding your thoughts, “You still trust me enough to talk to me… Right?”

Bucky immediately nodded his head, cupping your face, hearing your faltering voice.

“Of course I do baby, I trust you with my life.” He reassured you, “I don’t know why I got like that.”

“I know why,” You started, cradling his face, watching him snuggle his cheek deeper into your palm, “You have a good heart, and sometimes having a good heart can be overwhelming, because you can care so much about something.”

“I don’t want a good heart if it’s going to make me act that way.” He whispered sadly, lowering his eyes.

“That’s the thing about having a good heart,” You lifted his head slightly so his eyes met yours, “Its not something you can just change, it’s a part of you.”

He gazed from each eye, to your lips, then back up to your eyes, mesmerized by your beauty and soul. How could you be so forgiving and caring towards him?

“I’m so sorry I shut you out (Y/n), I love you and I will never do something like that again.” He promised, lifting and pulling you into his lap, curling his arms around your frame. Sitting his chin on top of your head.

You snuggled your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him protectively.

“It’s okay Buck, I get scared too.”

#reader insert #light angst #fluff #oneshot #imagine #bucky x female reader #buckybarnes #bucky x y/n #falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel cinematic universe #sebastian stan characters #hurt/comfort #protective bucky barnes

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ashessonfire · 1 year

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Hi, I just gotta say I really love your stories and how detailed and eloquent your writing is.How about a Kaz Brekker x reader angst where a heist gone wrong results to Kaz (temporarily) losing his memory and reverting back to old Kaz, who is not in a relationship with reader, and he keeps pushing the reader away 'til reader gives up 'cause of something Kaz said or a scenario where they think Kaz is better without them♡♡♡thank you for listening HAHAHAHA

'Forgotten' - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt - Kaz Brekker's plans rarely fail, but what happens when a heist goes incredibly wrong, and the Bastard of the Barrel forgets you completely? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: Depictions of violence, gunshots, Kaz's trauma / memories, Kaz being an asshole but not really his fault??? ANGST ANGST ANGST Part two found here! A/N: Thank you all so much for the amount of support and love i am getting for my first few posts! I will definitely write a part two if you want it, its a massive cliffhanger but would be WAY too long to do it in one go. JUST PURE ANGST IM SORRY T-T

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz’s plans often fell victim to unseen circumstances, however, small hinderances to his meticulously planned out schemes rarely affected the outcome. Yet even Kaz himself had to admit, that this plan had gone spectacularly wrong.

From incorrect blueprints for the building, to four times the number of armed guards than initially expected, all the group could do was try and escape relatively unharmed. The crows were splintered into six breathless individuals, winding their way through narrow streets to try and loosen their attackers’ grips. Sprays of bullets and the glints of knives rushed past each one of them, only narrowly missing their targets.

That was until Kaz felt a searing pain in his leg, a sudden slash just under the back of his knee, sending fire trailing throughout his body. He groaned deeply, internally damning the attacker for not only striking his target, but also managing to hit Kaz on his already bad leg. The pain from the wound caused it to buckle, giving him a clear path straight towards the glistening cobblestone of Ketterdam’s streets.

Before he could fully feel the impact, a hand tightly gripped the roots of his hair, pulling his face parallel to the grinning pursuer, evidently pleased with his achievement of apprehending the Bastard of the Barrel.

Before Kaz could use his cane to fight back, it was violently ripped from his grasp, another set of hands clutching his own behind his back, rendering him completely immobile. Suddenly, the knife was yanked out of his leg, earning a surprised growl from Kaz, his leg leaking onto the stone beneath him a deep ruby shade.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m afraid to say I am more than a little underwhelmed, Dirtyhands,” The leader of the group sneered, earning a howl of laughter from his gang, who seemed to be forming from the shadows of the abandoned street, emerging in staggering numbers.

Despite his predicament, a thought flashed through his mind, calming his increasingly alarmed state. “Perhaps they abandoned the others in favour of catching me,” Kaz silently contemplated, feeling a light sense of relief at the possibility his crew would make it back to the slat alive.

Especially you.

However, the relief was knocked out of him as swiftly as it came, along with all the air in his chest. A brutal kick sent him reeling backwards into the chest of the man behind, followed by a series of punches which Kaz was defenceless against. The assault continued, blood pouring into his eyes from an open wound on his forehead, blinding him to the onslaught of attacks that followed, as he rapidly tried blinking to wash away the crimson from his vision.

The ambush subsided, giving him enough time to throw his head back and remove some of the steadily flowing substance from his sight. Murmurs sounded around him, but Kaz couldn’t decipher what was being stated, the ringing from the punches obscuring the sound around him, leaving him underwater, drowning in his own blood.

Despite Kaz’s senses becoming increasingly obstructed, a flare of panic welled up within him, as he spotted something brassy glinting through the sheet of red, catching the light from the street lanterns surrounding them. The unknown object began its descent towards him, the glint becoming a beam which shone through the curtain of crimson, until it was just close enough for Kaz to make out the flash of a crow’s eye, and the curve of a beak.

“How ironic,” Kaz thought to himself, “Being killed by my own cane.”

The scarlet curtain closed on Kaz, the blow ending the performance the gang was putting on, leaving their victim in a world full of darkness, the feeling of the waves washing over him and pulling him deeper into the abyss.

The last thing he heard was the sound of a voice.

Jordie’s?

The concern that radiated from the sound brought him back to memories of the farm, where Kaz would climb too far up a willow’s branches, and his brother would have to call him down. Or perhaps when they had arrived in Ketterdam and Kaz had thought it comedic to hide in a dimly lit street, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in its gloom.

However, as Kaz slipped deeper into the ocean, the voice getting further away with each of his slowing heartbeats, a tinge of warmth hit his chest, signalling that this wasn’t Jordie.

It was you.

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Your adrenaline had served you well, since shortly after you were separated from the crows, familiar edges of buildings and glints of neighboring signs entered your vision. Using this to your advantage, you utilized your familiarity of the area to hide, slipping into the shadows, melting into the gloom of Ketterdam's alleys. Soon, all five of your pursuers had bullets lodged in their throats unable to pinpoint where they were being shot from. Each fatal blow perfectly central just as Jesper had taught you.

Whilst your mind began to settle at the lack of immediate threat, something burred within your core pulled on your heartstrings, pointing your unsettling fear towards Kaz.

You had taken great care to note which routes the other crows had disappeared down, for insurance if they did not return to the slat within the agreed time. However, as you fled, your heart had plummeted at the sight of at least ten men chasing down your boyfriend.

Before your mind could register your actions, you were sprinting back in the direction you had come, weaving through the bodies littering your path. You quickly reached the alley Kaz had fled down, and you bolted through the streets you estimated Kaz would take.

As he was your boyfriend, you had become accustomed to imagining what he would do, or how he would act in certain situations, helping you decode his behaviour when he barricaded himself from you on troublesome days.

The sound of bone cracking and pained grunts pulled you away from your thoughts, turning a sharp corner just in time to see the head of Kaz’s precious cane colliding with his temple, the light visibly fading from his eyes due to the blow.

Rage swept through you, controlling your actions as your mind failed to synchronise with your body. Rushing forward, you shot wildly, achieving at least three separate screams from the men before you. Before the others were made fully aware of your presence, you had a serrated knife plunging into a further two, leaving fatal wounds which would slowly bring about their demise. Once every one of group were flooding the streets with their blood, your gaze shifted to Kaz.

Lying in a growing pool of blood, your boyfriend’s face was swollen, covered in deep gashes that littered his sharp features. The dim light from the lanterns overhead cast murky shadows over the wounds, highlighting the gruesome fate Kaz had endured. From somewhere far in the distance, you heard your voice screaming his name, begging for him to wake up, at some point you had even rushed over to him and began caressing his fractured face to wake him.

Allowing a deep inhale of Ketterdam’s air, you collected yourself, imagining that Kaz were conscious and scolding you for your slow reactions and the ‘weakness’ you were portraying. Laying your head against his frigid chest, you held your own breath, only releasing the growing tension when a faint heartbeat pounded against your ear.

Silently apologising for your next actions, you hooked both of Kaz’s arms underneath your own and used all your force to haul him back to the Slat.

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For several days following the attack, the group had come to a collective conclusion that their boss was severely concussed, so much so that he was barely conscious for more than a few minutes at a time.

Throughout the harrowing days, you never left his side, constantly aiding his body in a frail attempt to bring him back to the conscious realm, and to you.

The crows stopped by often to assist you, compelled to keep at least one half of the pair in a decent condition, Nina bringing hot food, Inej wiping down your face with a warm cloth, and Jesper or Wylan keeping you company for an hour or so, brightening the mood wit =h jokes or stories.

Time seemed almost to cease its movements, with even the smallest of things, like the rain rolling down the frosted glass in Kaz’s room, or the flickering of the candles illuminating the slat, appearing sluggish to you.

That was, only until Kaz woke up.

A bout of coughs awoke you from a light sleep, sending alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing off the walls and overwhelming you. Upon seeing the straining eyes blinking against the intensity of the candlelight, the roar swiftly subsided.

“Kaz,” you breathed out, barely audible to both you and him.

You gently reached out to feel the heat from his forehead, an action not dissimilar to the gentle brushes of his locks you would often settle on when he was too engrossed in scheming to provide you attention. However, your movements were stopped dead in their tracks when a voice sliced through the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaz seethed.

Although his voice was hoarse from his absence over the last few days, a clear threat laid deeply within his sentence, piercing your chest with a thousand knives. “Kaz, I’m just checking your temperature, my love,” you offered gently, praying to the Saints that whatever malice behind your partners eyes was due to his condition, and not a genuine fury.

Instead of removing the knives from your heart, he twisted them painfully, glaring directly at you as he warned lowly, “I am not sure how long I have been out for, but I severely doubt it would be enough time for a word like ‘love’ to be directed towards me. Especially by the likes of you. Go and get Nina, you are of no use to me.”

Your breath hitched painfully in your throat, blocking the air trying to travel both in and out, glittering eyes locked directly with his as your mind struggled to process the disgust that laced his voice. Your body battled as it tried to force another ‘Kaz’ out into the world, but he intruded before the sound escaped.

“Leave now, or I will dismiss you for insubordination. Go,” Kaz stated, bitterness being the only discernible emotion portraying through his words, his chest filling with an emotion so strong he couldn’t name it, deciding to settle on disgust. Your eyes welled up, clouding your vision as you cautiously left the room, shock coursing through your body and stiffening your every movement, causing shivers to wrack your body as your blood froze to ice.

Your mind seemed to leave your body, taking little note of going to Nina and sending her up to Kaz, or the other crows fawning over your broken state, clearly panicking further when your only form of response was a stiff silence. It seemed safer to hide behind glossy eyes and blank looks, than to decipher what had caused Kaz’s reaction.

It was only an hour later when Nina came downstairs, shaking you out of your daze with words that did a far more agonizing job than Kaz’s knives would.

She downright shot you point blank in the heart.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, it seems like the blow has affected his memory. I can’t tell the severity yet, but it seems that he has no recollection of you two as, well you know. ‘You two,’” Nina bit out, voice cracking as her heart shattered for you, who now stood shaking before the group, the slightest breeze threatening to barrel you over.

You dismissed them with a fractured smile, barring yourself within the confines of your room, knives drawing blood within your heart, twisting excruciatingly each time a shuffle or a creak would sound from the room above yours.

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Your perseverance impressed not only the rest of the crows, but yourself too. You didn’t allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for long, determined to regain Kaz’s memory despite his protests and frustration with you. You had already molded a loving relationship with the deadliest man in Ketterdam, you figured that you would be able to withstand doing it once more.

Enduring the blade-like words was the simplest part, however it was the emotion behind them that faltered you each time you were faced with him. He always his behind a face of insults or harsh syllables, but you had decoded their meanings long ago, the sentiment behind each radiating through in a way in which only you could detect.

As he recovered, you remained vigilant to his every need, bringing him herbal tea infused with medicine or offering fresh bandages to change when the blood seeped through the last.

Each encounter ended with tears streaming drearily down your face, matching the raindrops that hit against the pains of the slat, each impact slamming against your heart. As you persisted, the feeling Kaz felt towards you grew, the emotion intensifying with each glimpse at you.

He couldn't stand it.

Rage bubbled within him at your attempts at kindness, the insults increasing in harshness and malice each time you dared to provoke him.

Yet you bounced back, offering him delicate smiles, compassionate gestures, and kind words. However Kaz couldn't bear it any longer, the weight in his chest obscuring his breathing and brooding for too long, consuming him from the inside out.

Despite his unbroken hatred that radiated towards you, he seemed to gradually be regaining his memories, allowing Jesper's jokes or Nina's teasing to go as far as they would before the accident. It caused you great anguish, and shamefully jealousy, at his return to every one of his crows.

But you.

The door to his office was given a light few taps, before Kaz permitted you entry, knowing from the weight of the knocks it had to be you. Although the others seemed far more wary of him than usual, there was something almost gentle about how you acted towards him, making it easier for Kaz to single you out from the rest.

You entered with a stack of papers, a vast collection of work that had accumulated whilst he regained his health. Biting back his usual snarky insults and remarks dripping in poison, Kaz watched you intently, deadly intentions practically radiating from his gaze.

Setting down the pile, you stepped back silently, too exhausted to bear the weight of another one of his lashings, each word cutting you and leaving you bleed out, not dissimilarly to how you found him that night.

The silence in his office was impenetrable, the air becoming impossible to breath through the tension that radiated between you, with only one of you being able to decipher what it truly was. Your mind was so focused on the intake of air, you almost missed the hand that extended towards you, the closest he had allowed you since his memory had stolen you from him.

Clutched in his grasp was a simple white letter, signatures coating the outside of the envelope, and something folded, protruding from within the packet itself.

The silence became deafening, the pounding of your heart like a bird trapped in a cage infinitely too small for its prisoner, crashing into the walls in an attempt to escape. As your hand made contact with the offering, Kaz spoke in a tone you had never heard before.

He simply stated, "From tomorrow, at four bells, you will be gone. A job in Ravka requires someone of your skillset, so you will go. If you fail to comply then you will no longer be welcomed here. I have tolerated your incessant troubling for long enough, you have no true place here until you finally realize how burdensome you truly are."

Your heart stopped.

The air around you liquified, slowly filling your lungs with fluid and choking you, drowning you silently as Kaz looked on with an indifferent scowl, an eyebrow raised in question at your astonishment.

The tears streamed, your body screaming for air, for comfort, for him. But it couldn't seem to attain any one of them, instead pushing all its strength into forming the the right words to pierce Kaz Brekker's impenetrable façade.

"You still don't remember?" you coughed out, "After the incident who was it who rushed back to you, dragged your half-dead body across the Barrel and into the slat. Who stayed by your side until they were forced to leave each night? Do you not have any recollection, not of the memories, but of how you felt for me? Surely I didn't mean that little to you," your voice wavered heavily whilst you gasped out the final line.

The tears formed rugged streams across your cheeks, glinting in the dim candlelight from Kaz's desk, highlighting the pain you had hidden from him for weeks. It was now his turn to be stunned, the words echoing around his mind but not seeming to form into coherent meanings.

Despite Kaz's astonishment at your outburst, it wasn't enough.

Wasn't enough for him to stop you from walking away, or enough to whisper your name louder in confusion and uncertainty as your form dissolved into the hallway .

Surely this was what he was supposed to do?

Yet deep inside his plagued heart your words resounded, filling Kaz with a sense of dread, the waves that usually consumed him began to swell, drowning him in his seat just as he had done to you earlier.

He was certain on one thing, that the gaping pain in his chest which he had presumed was disgust, or perhaps even hatred, had not disappeared. Had not lightened as he had prayed it would if you just vanished.

No. Instead it had intensified into something that swallowed him whole, dragging him further into the bitter ocean than ever before, waves crashing fiercely above his head.

The emotion consumed him as his breathing deepened, heart both simultaneously stopping and racing into oblivion, as it finally dawned on him. Somewhere within that feeling a small spark remained glowing, something that felt warm and familiar which he had repressed.

Something that resembled care, or affection, or...

Love.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Tag list: @animalistic00 @whos6claire

Click here for part two <3

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #kaz brekker x reader fluff #ashessonfire

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red-viewe · 10 months

Text

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)

COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)

Part 2 part 1

"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.

'Ew.'

"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.

The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.

'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.

'Just a few more days until i see them.

Just a few more days....'

----

"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"

"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.

'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '

Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.

'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?

'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.

-----

'Knock knock knock'

'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'

You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.

"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.

'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)

Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.

You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.

"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.

"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.

"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.

"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.

"I swear i can explain-"

-----

"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.

"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"

"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.

"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.

"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."

"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, beastie."

----

Authors notes :D

I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY

Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.

Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)

(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin

@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards

@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr

#twsited wonderland #twst x you #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #general!lilia x reader #lilia x you #red-viewe

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luvyeni · 1 year

Note

hi! just found your blog and i really enjoy the way you write! immediately became a fan lol

if requests are open, could you maybe do the "condom broke" reaction but with stray kids or txt (or both lol)? thank you~

—｛🎂｝THE CONDOM BREAKS; W/ STRAYKIDS

pairings. skz x fem!reader

word count. 686

warnings. mentions of a breeding kink

—｛🍰｝... BANG CHAN ! ⋮

wouldn't care because he already made sure you both were clean, and you were on birth control.

"shit baby— i think the condom broke." chan fully stopped pushing into you.

"you can take it off, it's fine." he pulled out, taking the condom off, trowing it in the bin. "are you sure?"

"chan—yes please just hurry up." you began to impatient, he shook his head, positioning himself back at your entrance.

"so impatient baby."

—｛🍰｝... LEE KNOW ! ⋮

see... me personally i think he has a breeding kink and he will corrupt you into just taking it off and fucking you with out.

"the fucking condom broke." he slowly pulled out of you. "

lee know got an idea, he always wanted to fuck you without a condom. "baby girl do you trust me?"

"of course i do." you began to get needy again. "lee know, i want you." he smiled, positioning his now bare tip at your entrance.

"let me fuck you with out the stupid condom."

—｛🍰｝... CHANGBIN ! ⋮

would be so calm, you on the other hand, freaking the fuck out.

something felt off, "binnie, did the condom break?" he thought you were going crazy, until he began to pull out and your slick formed a white ring around the base of his cock.

"binnie, how the hell did you do that, im not on any birth control."

he could hear your voice began to get more shakey, telling him to pull all the way out.

"yah, calm down it's okay, we don't have to finish, i'll run and get you a plan b."

—｛🍰｝... HYUNJIN ! ⋮

he'd be calm, just so he won't freak you out.

thrust in and out of you at a fast and rough pace, he looked down and realized that the damn condom broke.

"shit." his reaction made you panic a bit. "what is it?"

"love don't panic, but the condom broke." he caressed your hip bone, claiming you.

"do you want to finish without?" He was in love.

"fuck- of course i do."

—｛🍰｝... HAN JISUNG ! ⋮

i genuinely don't feel like you to would even care at the moment, like it wouldn't hit you until you were long done.

"f-fuck- jisung faster!" at that moment he could feel the condom break. "wait-wait babe." he tried to slow down.

"jisung if you pull out, you won't get any for the rest of the week." he wasn't taking that chance.

after you two are finished and cleaned up he'll bring it up with a laugh. "what's so funny?"

"you were being such a needy girl, you didn't even realize the condom broke."

—｛🍰｝... FELIX ! ⋮

he's gonna freak out badly because he doesn't want you to think he did it on purpose, like poor baby is gonna almost be in tears.

"i-i really didn't mean to do it." he was practically on his knees while he cleaned you up. "im so sorry."

you did not know why he was freaking out this bad, but the look on his face, makes your heart break a but.

"lix calm down, it's fine, i got on birth control a while back." he let out a breath of air.

"besides, i definitely wouldn't mind if you came inside of me."

—｛🍰｝... SEUNGMIN ! ⋮

he's fucking it back into you im sorry, seungmin has a breeding kink (cause i said so).

"m-minnie? m-minnie i think the c-condom broke." you could barley get a word out.

"shit." he pulled out, your essence forming a white ring around his base, taking the condom off. "stupid fucking condom."

he positioned himself at your soaking wet entrance. "minnie?"

"please babe, i need to fuck you without the stupid fucking condom, i need to fill you up."

—｛🍰｝... JEONGIN ! ⋮

both of you are a little freaked out, but not enough to stop and get out of bed at the moment.

"did the condom break?" jeongin stopped thrusting into you. "it did." your eyes went wide.

"do we stop?" you didn't want him to. "not really." you began to grind down on him, not really caring about the condom anymore.

"F-fuck— okay we can worry later."

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz smut #skz headcanons #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz x reader

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ughgoaway · 1 month

Text

Snapshots

a/n; This is kind of half a blurb and half a fic?? Idk, it's just horny thoughts expanded tbh. now, this is NOT sanitary at all. PLEASE do not do this without thoroughly cleaning the shoe first. You are asking for a yeast infection and a UTI otherwise. But this is fiction, so let's all pretend he did a little sterilising beforehand! however, that's not hot to read, so im not gonna write it, but let's play pretend!! Thank you, ily <3

Content warnings; boot grinding, d-word, degradation, jealousy, bratty behaviour, dom matty, spit, swearing, and teasing. But I think thats it?? I'm so sorry if I'm missing some!

word count; 2.1k ish

(shout out to Kirke @nowshesdoingitallthetime for once again causing this. you are my fav little devil on my shoulder encouraging this behaviour...)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

*click* *click* *click*

“Okay and now look to the left!” You hear the photographer shout. matty turns his head exactly as she asks. But apparently, it's not quite right, judging by how she walks over to him and poses his body.

you can feel the jealousy in every fucking nerve when her fingers graze the edge of Matty's jaw, adjusting his head half a centimetre. The move was so small it was completely unnoticeable to anyone else, but what was noticeable was the sly smirk on the photographer's face as her fingers lingered on Matty’s skin.

Your boyfriend remains completely oblivious, as he has been all day. You, however, noticed it as soon as you walked in together. You weren't planning on coming to play jealous girlfriend, you were prepared to be silently supportive.

But when she spent 40 minutes trying different outfits on Matty and showering him with compliments, you knew something was up.

You studied her every move from then on. The way she “adjusted” Matty’s hair after almost every take, running her fingers through every strand in a way that had Matty practically purring.

You look at the way she pulls at his clothes, untucking and tucking in his shirt multiple times. and you also watch her eyes dart down to his exposed stomach every. fucking. Time. You swear you can almost see the cogs turning in her head when she catches a flash of the rose tattoo on his hip.

Every joke he makes, she laughs just a little too hard. Matty is funny, but making a shitty pun is not worthy of doubling over and acting like you're at a standup show. Yet, every vaguely funny comment he makes has her cackling and wiping tears that are streaming down her cheeks.

So you were fuming. Partially at her, Matty had introduced you as his girlfriend at the start of the session. Which had earned him an unimpressed hum from her and you a petty wave. she didn't seem to take too much notice of that fact, though, judging by the way she's stroking his cheek right now.

But you're also pissed at Matty for playing right into her hand.

You knew he was egotistical, but the way he was practically turned into a giggling schoolgirl over the shoot drove you insane. His attention whore actions usually make you laugh, probably because they're normally aimed at you. as soon as you start rambling about how much you love him, matty becomes a child star, immediately glowing at the praise.

But it's remarkably less entertaining when he's lapping up the attention of a woman who is practically getting on her knees in front of you.

And maybe you took it too far, walking over to him mid-conversation and grabbing his face, pressing your lips onto his harshly, you take advantage of the gasp that leaves his lips to press your tongue into his mouth, licking inside and moaning excessively loud.

Matty pulls you off once his logical brain overtakes his horny one, but you can still see he's slightly dazed when he goes back to chatting with the photographer. The haze in his eyes and the pink flush on his cheeks take a few minutes to fully fade, especially when your hand slides onto his thigh and grips his skin possessively.

You hang off his arm for the rest of the break and move closer to the set when they start up again. Every adjustment she suggests you swoop in and make before she can, punctuating each one with a peck on Matty’s lips and a glare her way.

Matty knows what you're doing, and after you lingered a little too long on one kiss, he pulls you in with a hand around the base of your neck.

You feel his breath on your ear before he starts talking, “I know what you're doing. Behave.”

You don't listen to his demands. Why should you when he's been gagging for every piece of attention this stranger gives him? So you play it up even more, determined to beat this woman at her game.

whilst you might win that war, you certainly don't win the one waging with matty judging by his tense shoulders and rolling eyes.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿

The ride home is full of tension, Matty's knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, and the hand that usually lives on your thighs is firmly stuck on the gearstick.

You cant deny that the mix of his palpable anger now and how fucking good he looked at the photo shoot had riled you up. Every tick of his jaw makes your thighs tighten. And you swear you see a smile cross Matty's face as you cross and uncross your legs for the 20th time, desperate to relieve some pressure.

As soon as you get in the door, Matty is barking orders at you.

“Follow me. And be quiet. You've done enough talking today.” Any bratty behaviour left simmering inside you was gone. You trailed behind Matty silently, walking into the front room and starting to sit down on the sofa beside him.

“Nope, floor,” Matty says bluntly.

... no, he's joking. Surely.

“What?” you tilt your head at the man in front of you as you speak, assuming this is another one of his unfunny jokes (but you're sure the photographer would be fucking cackling at it.)

“You heard me, Don't play dumb now, baby. Kneel.” You don’t know whether it’s the intensity of his eyes or the assertiveness of his voice, but you do exactly as he asks. Sinking to your knees like you had done for him so many times before.

Your hands start to move to his fly instinctively, assuming you'd be apologising the only way you know how, letting Matty fuck your throat until you cant speak. But his hands smack yours away before you can even touch the denim of his jeans.

“Thats not gonna cut it today, baby. i need a proper apology this time.” Matty's foot slides between your legs, his boot sitting between your thighs as you hover just above it.

“I want you to grind on my boot, sweet girl. Put on a proper show for me, yeah?” Matty nods at you, and you don't even think before immediately nodding back, sinking down on his boot below you. in your mind, you know you should be scoffing at him and rolling your eyes, but your body moves without you telling it to.

You can already feel wetness pooling in your panties, throbbing at the idea of being so powerless under him. You gasp as soon as the cool leather of the boot touches your core, goosebumps blooming over your skin.

Your hips start rutting against the leather, sliding your hands around Matty's calf as you experimentally grind down on his shoe. Matty feels your fingers tighten around his leg as you clit brushes agaisnt the leather, the slight scratch of the boot making your head spin.

You rock your hips dumbly against Matty's shoe, arching your back when it brushes harshly over your bundle of nerves. Your ruby red nails dig into Matty’s leg through his jeans as you cling to him desperately.

One of your hands slides behind you so you can rock your hips even deeper on his boot, laying your palm flat the ground and canting your hips up desperately. Your thighs burn with every rock you make, but the burn in your core is stronger than anything else.

“thats it. now stick your tongue out, fuck. that's it angel,” Matty palms himself over his jeans as he stares down at you, groaning as he watches spit drip from your tongue and fall on the boot below, making every move you make slicker and more dizzying.

Matty looks pretty fucked out for someone who hasn't been touched, a thin sheen of sweat sits on his skin, his dick straining in his jeans as he watches you like a hawk. He studies your every movement like he is watching a cinematic masterpiece, taking in every move you make and committing it to memory.

His jaw clenches as he fights every urge in his body to grab you by the hair and pull under him. Visions cross his mind of him jackhammering his hips inside you until you're screaming his name, watching the bluge in your stomach as he pumps fucking every inch of himself inside you. But he stays strong, keeping his eyes trained on you with every move you make.

“Thats it, shine my boots with your cunt. Good girl” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Matty drags out his words and pushes his boot up, the pressure against your clit making the world around you fall into a haze.

A flush covers your cheeks and chest, and Matty smirks at how blissed out you look.

Fucking you dumb is something that will never fail to amaze him, watching a smart girl become a babbling mess because of him does wonders for his ever-growing ego. It's not like he needed the boost, but your brain melted out of your ears as soon as he starts talking to you like he owned you.

You can't help but squirm as you start moving closer towards the edge, the pressure building inside you slowly becoming too much. Whimpers and whines fall from your lips as your hips speed up, pleading with Matty to let you cum without saying it. Luckily, Matty has seen you fall apart under him enough times to know exactly what you're asking.

“You getting close, baby?” Matty smirks as he speaks, “‘course you are. Filthy girl wants to cum all over daddy's boots.” your jaw drops at the nickname, and you nod as best you can, whimpering with every circle of your hips.

“Beg." he demands

"Tell me you're fucking sorry and beg to cum,” Matty's jaw drops when he sees tears start falling down your face, desperation filling your every nerve. Soon, you're sobbing and begging Matty for mercy, your hips bucking wildly.

“Please. I’m so- fuck- im so sorry, Daddy. Please let me cum, ill be so good, I promise. Just- ah! let me cum. Please.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you fight to hold in your orgasm, but every rut of your hips is making pushing you closer.

“So good for me, such a dirty slut. Okay, angel, cum for me.” As soon as the words leave Matty’s lips, your cumming, the rubber band inside you snapping.

White spots dance across your vision as you push even harder down on Matty’s boot, letting the tough leather push you through your orgasm with every circle of your hips. Your chest heaves, and your jaw shakes as your orgasm drags on, intense pleasure wracking your every nerve.

Your thighs grip tightly around his boot as you reach your peak, but soon enough they're going lax, your hips slowing down until you’re motionless sitting on Matty's shoe, panting wildly and fighting to catch your breath. His fingers move from his lap and grip your chin, forcing you to stare at him as he speaks.

“Don't leave a mess. clean it up for me baby, be a good girl.” Matty nods at his boot, looking at you expectantly with a sick smile covering his face.

You sink further down on the floor below you, ignoring the way the cold concrete scratches your knees as you slide. Dark brown eyes meet yours as you hold eye contact with Matty. staring up at his as you stick your tongue out, and start to lick the leather covered in your slick. An exaggerated moan falls from your lips at the taste, and Matty’s jaw drops as he watches your tongue lap at his shoe.

After a few more seconds of you swiping your tongue over the leather, Matty is dragging you into his lap, gripping your hips harshly as you settle on top of him. He can't help smirking as you hover over him. Your cheeks are pink as you stare at him. The same pretty pink covers your lips. undoubtedly from desperately bitting at them to try and dampen your needy whimpers.

“Don't be so selfish now, princess, give daddy a taste,” you smirk at Matty before gripping his jaw, watching in awe as his mouth drops open and his tongue falls out.

Power skitters up your spine as you lean forward and let a drop of spit fall from your bottom lip, watching it drip and fall onto your boyfriend's tongue. A grin immediately pulls at your lips when you hear the groan that is ripped from his chest.

As soon as Matty tastes the mix of your slick and spit, he's dragging you deeper into his lap, forcing his tongue in your mouth to desperately lick every trace of your release from the inside of your mouth.

Needy hands grip each other's skin, groping every piece you can get your hands on. Eventually, Matty pulls away from your lips, his eyes dropping to watch a string of spit spread between you. His head falls back against the sofa behind him, staring at you in awe.

“I'm booking another photo shoot with her,” he teases, his chest heaving as he desperately sucks in air to his lungs.

“The fuck you are.” You surge forward and capture his lips again, smiling as you feel his lips turn up as soon as your skin touches his.

#wrote this from 12am to 2am so it might be shit #probably is #but delirium is a funny thing #anyway... yeah ignore the logistics of this and just have fun lol <3 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #matty healy fic

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txmxkis · 2 months

Note

Rinii, what do you think kuroo would say or react when reader starts feeling self-conscious about readers body, like if reader asks "am i getting fatter" or "do you think im fat?"

ohhhhhh i did not plan to do this but this is something that is so personal to me

warnings. gn!reader, fluffy and probably cheesy as always, chubby!reader is implied but i tried to keep it as inclusive as possible, reader is insecure. again, apparently i can only write self indulgent things my bad

you were supposed to be ready to leave the apartment half an hour ago. you weren't usually one to be late to anything, in fact it made you incredibly anxious when you were. however, today your insecurity outweighed your need to be punctual, and you just couldn't leave while looking like this.

actually, today you couldn't leave looking like anything. pieces of clothing lay strewn across the room, hangers discarded on the floor next to the closet. you had tried on every single one, and still there were none that looked flattering on you.

"oi! are you ready yet? i mean, take your time 'n everything, but technically we're late."

kuroo's voice calling from the other room pulls you out of your thoughts momentarily. he never rushes you, which is something you appreciate greatly. it helps that he knows you well enough to know that you would never be late without good reason.

"is there something i can help with orrrr?"

you could hear his voice getting closer and you really didn't want him to see you in this state right now.

he pokes his head past the doorframe and makes a noise of astonishment.

"a tornado go through here while i was gone or somethin'? or are you just trying to spontaneously reorganize things again."

you roll your eyes at that second thing.

"noooo, i just can't decide what to wear. nothing looks good on me today."

he's standing fully in the doorway now, hands in his pockets as he raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down.

"then wear nothing, it looks great on you."

he smirks and you make a futile attempt not to crack a smile as you feel your face start to burn. suddenly you're even more self conscious, so you grab the nearest piece of clothing to hold in front of you.

"tetsurou, i'm being serious! we needed to leave like forty minutes ago and i can't wear any of these clothes without looking-"

you stop yourself just before you could say fat. you hate giving the word a negative connotation. there's nothing wrong with being fat, nothing that should make you feel like this, anyway. like you wanted to crawl out of your skin. usually you were pretty neutral about your body, on very rare occasions could even love things about it. sometimes, it all catches up to you, though.

all the whispers in your head that come from no one but yourself, degrading you and making you feel worthless because of how you look. logically, you know those thoughts are complete and utter bullshit, but it's so hard to continuously fight against them. today, you're slipping a little.

"i know exactly what you're thinking over there. something about your clothes not fitting quite right and that somehow it makes you unloveable."

you don't even have time to pretend to be shocked that he knows you so well before he just keeps on going.

"well i've got news for you, babe, i've never seen you manage to look bad. i actually think it's impossible for you or something."

for a few moments too long, you just stand there gaping at him. he takes that as his cue to walk towards you, remove the sweater that you've been using as a shield, and toss it off to the side.

"there. better."

you finally snap out of it and smack him on the arm, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist. he brings it up to his lips slowly, and kisses right where your pulse is probably hammering away at the moment, locking eyes with you as he does.

how are you ever supposed to argue with him if he keeps stunning you into silence?

"i don't think you'll ever understand how much i love you, doesn't matter if you change physically or not. and it doesn't matter what you wear either, so can you pleaseeee put on something so we can go. we both know you'll look perfect in anything."

"ugh, fine! but you get to help me pick."

he rubs his hands together with a devious grin, and you know he'll be grabbing the most revealing thing he can find. you know him well, too, after all.

"something appropriate."

"awww, damn."

285 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

Note

Hey hey! i have a third angsty silly idea teehee (yes same person who requested the one where wife reader gets teleported to the hotel and the one with the fake dating trope-)

Im at it again with my silly ideas i can’t quite get out of my head- so picture this RIGHT before the begging of the second fic (loved it btw if i could id kiss you on the mouth)

(this interaction is important) Reader is eyeing Alastor to subconsciously make him talk to her, he does of course it goes a bit like “Alastor dear, havent seen you before?” "Just moved in, thought of making some acquaintances” and they talk, reader tells him “a charmer too? should be careful around you not to break my heart” or smth smilar idk i suck at dialogue

And then the partnership happens and theyve been at it for a while (like at least 5 years id say)- until Readers twin brother dies in a planned house fire and she goes out for revenge, before that they have a fight like “youre going to be out numbered” “its suicide” blah blah blah- and eventually reader goes out alone

She does manage to to kill the criminals but because of the cold January weather and the exhaustion of it all- reader gets hypothermia and in the frenzy thats caused by it stumbles and falls into a fence spike of an abandoned farmhouse, gets impaled right below the ribs teehee, Alastor eventually finding her and goes out to bury her properly.

readers death happens in 1925 -8 years before alastor which gibes her enough time to take over half the pentagram with her blizzard/ice powers (cuz i think theyre. cool ;)) and is also important reader has a long tail with fluff (which can turn into a heart shaped fur or have happy/angry twitches) at the end because i think its cute and because her demon form has one so it matches (think the faceless room guardians by anyaboz on IG but fully white- with a void face from which emerges a dog skull at will). the normal form being overall relatively normal aside from the long ears and black limbs that symbolize the hypothermia part of the death (Yes this is an Oc but im making it a bit more generic for everyone :>)

When alastor does die in 1933 (when he got shot visiting readers grave) he hears of this blizzard overlord and goes a bit into her territory and into a bar where he sees a somewhat familiar person teehee and they have the same first conversation over again but in hell :D and then get reunited but possibly pull out their signature weapons on each other again for old times sake 😇

also i love you so much for taking the time to write my dreams it does mean quite a lot to me and if you want i can give more ideas because i have a lot more- 😇 (im tottaly not insane and or delusional i swear-)

A/N of course?? I’m obsessed with your requests. they’re always so fun. Also as a heads up, I decided not to do this as a part to for cover up because I got an earlier request asking to do a part two for that and I try to address requests in the order I receive them. I also made some other minor changes just to make it work a little smoother. Also, please keep sending in requests, yours are always so fun.

Frostbite (Alastor X Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Murder, death, gore, arson, a little bit of angst.

Word Count: 3,949

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor sat at the bar of Mimzy's club drinking like he did every friday night. Normally the whirling dancers and loud music merely served to give him a headache, normally he ignored them and all the fans who somehow recognized him from the radio. Tonight was far from normal, tonight there was someone new.

Spinning on the dance floor, the fringe of her blood red dress spinning out from her legs. The woman was all smiles, all laughter, and she seemed never to turn down a partner. He watched her, entranced.

The woman wasn't a talented dancer, far from it in fact, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm and enjoyment. He had no intentions of doing anything other than watching her enchanting display until he made eye contact with her across the club. She blushed, turning away and quickly engaging a friend in conversation.

It was all the encouragement Alastor needed. In the dim light of the speakeasy, Alastor smiled to himself. He downed the rest of his drink and got to his feet. The crowed of dancers parted to make way for him like the red sea, waves of whispers following his path. He could hear the chatter, knew the rumors that he was a man uninterested in women, uninterested in love or romantic involvements of any type He knew that that was what everyone was speaking of as he approached the first new face the tired old place had seen in ages.

Coming to a stop behind the woman, her friend saw him first. It made sense, her back was turned to him after all, a result of her embarrassment at having been caught staring. He friend tapped her shoulder, indicating for the woman to turn around, and she spun. Alastor could feel the hem of her dress as it brushed against his leg through the fabric of his pants. His smile grew.

"Haven't seen you around here before Darling," he hummed, "new in town?"

"Just moved in, actually." the woman bashfully replied, clasping her hands behind her back and crossing one foot in front of the other.

The position it threw her body into sent Alastor's mind reeling. He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was pretty and different, new, but Alastor didn't feel things like that. At least, not normally.

"Well, I'd love to give you a tour sometime. The name is Alastor, Alastor Hartifelt."

This was the test: his name. How would she react? Was she just another one of his simpering fans, begging for his favor, for his attention, or would she do something interesting?

He held out a hand which she daintily rested her own in, a smile spreading across her face.

"Y/n L/n. I'm free tomorrow morning?"

Alastor was lucky, Saturday mornings were one of the few he had free. Gently, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Y/n felt her heart flutter inside her chest.

"Ah, a charmer." she hummed as Alastor raised his head again and she took her hand from his, "I'll have to be careful around you."

Everything had snowballed from there. The tour around the city had spiraled into dinner which had further fallen into an attempt by Alastor to take her life. He had been curious, how it would feel when the life drained from her body at the force of his hands. Instead, she had met his advances by holding her own knife to his throat.

It became a game of sorts for the two, always trying to outwit one another, one up each other, land the other six feet under. The game ended when Alastor was chasing Y/n through the woods and she had stumbled, falling to the ground. He had grinned maniacally as he had advanced on her, as she had scrambled on the ground away from him. Knife raised, her back against a tree, she had breathlessly asked him out on a date. How could he say no? Especially when he looked up and saw that she had planned this all along. There was no other way their initials could be carved into the surface of the very thing that had stopped her escape. It was perfect, she was perfect.

Five years of bliss. Five years of feathery kisses and passion. Five years of waking up to her smiling face, of washing the blood off each other's hands, of nearly wedded bliss. Then there had been the fire.

Y/n had a twin brother, a brute of a thing who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite his flaws, Y/n loved him. This time, on a January morning in 1925, he had pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Y/n was inconsolable, spent every waking moment tracking the killer. It didn't take her long to get a lead.

She was halfway out the door when Alastor found her, shoving knives into her pockets and grabbing a gun. There was a wild, unfocused look in her eyes. Alastor turned his gaze momentarily to the setting sun as it sent rays of liquid golden light bouncing off the snow.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Going out." she gruffly replied, adjusting the laces on one of her shoes.

Alastor sighed. Y/n had mentioned to him just the day before that she had an idea of who was behind the murder and it wasn't pretty. The most controversial and strongest gang in the city had, according to her research, wielded the flames. Alastor took a step forward, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder and she turned to him. Her eyes were hard and narrow, her face contorted by rage.

"Y/n, please." Alastor began, treading carefully, "Not tonight. It's awful out, and you just confirmed everything today."

"No." Y/n shook her head, "No, I can't wait to do this any longer, Al. It has already been nearly a month, I can't..."

She looked away, raising a fist to her heart, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"I can't."

"And I can't loose you." Alastor quickly replied, using his free hand to turn her face back to his.

"So come with me."

He hesitated. Y/n saw the look on his face, the doubt. She shook herself from his grip, turning back to the door.

"Alright. I'll go alone."

"Y/n," Alastor pleaded, taking another step towards her as she grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall, "it is too dangerous. I can't let you do this."

"Let me do this?" Y/n spun around, her coat in her hand and flames licking at the corners of her voice, "You can't let me do this?"

Alastor took a breath, trying desperately to keep his own anger at bay.

"There are too many of them." he tried to reason with her, "You can't do it on your own."

"So come with me!"

"I..."

Y/n scoffed, sliding her jacket onto her arms. Turning back to the door once again, she unlocked it. Her hand rested on the knob, she took a breath. Their eyes met over her shoulder.

"I'll be home later."

She swung the door open and stepped out into the night. Alastor trailed after her, the snow sinking into his socks. It was cold, a terrible night.

"Y/n, you'll die!"

"Do you truly have that little faith in me!?" she spun around, her rage radiating off of her, devouring everything in sight.

Alastor had never seen her like this before. He halted in his tracks.

"Please, I can't..." he took a deep breath, emotions had always been a struggle, "I can't loose you too."

"But I'm supposed to loose my brother and know who did it and do nothing?!" she screamed back at him.

"You will die!"

Y/n turned her back on him once again. She unlatched the gate to the garden and slipped through it, letting it fall shut behind her.

"So be it."

"Y/n!"

Alastor tried to run after her but, it was simply too cold. His limbs were numb, he stumbled.

"Y/n!" he yelled again but, she didn't turn around.

He could see her, in that red dress. She looked like she did the first time he had ever met her as she disappeared into the night. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, it felt like an omen.

Alastor stood in the cold for a few minutes longer before resigning himself to the truth of it all: Y/n was going to do what she was going to do. He just had to hope she would come back, that the damage he had done in refusing to back her up like that wouldn't be enough to have driven her away. That she was strong enough to make it out alive.

The fireplace crackled invitingly. No matter how warm and cheerful it made the room, Alastor couldn't stop the dread. He sat down on the couch before it, painfully aware of the empty spot beside him. He tried to read.

The hours ticked by, seconds dragging on for eternity. Still, Y/n was not yet home. Alastor couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't 't read, couldn't sleep, could barely sit still. He paced circles around the room as the sun rose, he called in sick to work, intent on being there should she return.

When it reached four pm, when it had been nearly twenty full hours since she had left, he decided to go out and look for her. Y/n had always been messy, always bad at putting things away. While normally it had irritated him to no end, he now found himself grateful. He swore to whatever gods were listening that if she was alright, he would never bother her about it again because right there on top of her desk were all her plans, including the exact location of the gang's hideout, the exact place she had disappeared to.

The sight that met Alastor when he reached the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was one he would never forget. Blood stained the snow red and there were bodies everywhere, both outside and within. It was clearly, Y/n's handiwork and he couldn't help but feel a tad impressed, he had underestimated her yet again. His slight smile, a result of the realization, fell as he spotted the footprints leading out of the backdoor.

He had tracked Y/n enough times to know they were hers, they couldn't be anyone else's. A trail of blood accompanied them, one foot dragging more than the other. Alastor tried to keep his head clear, his mind cool. He gave chase.

The back yard to the warehouse was large, gave the impression of going right off into the woods. Alastor soon realized that was not the case as the rusted, wrought iron fence came in to view. Y/n wouldn't have been able to see it. Judging by the way the tracks were iced over, it had been a long time since she had walked this path. In the dead of night, surrounded by trees, the fence would have come as a surprise.

As he got closer, the lump that he had assumed was a fallen branch came into more detail. Alastor's heart stopped, he rushed to her.

If only he hadn't waited, if only the minute he had felt she'd been gone too long he had gone after her. He might have been able to save her, to stop her from this cruel fate.

What had happened was obvious. The fence was iced over, slippery to the touch. Y/n had evidently tried to climb over it and lost her grip, the force of her fall being enough to ram the sharpened edge of one of the fence's defensive points right through her temple. Wrong place, wrong time.

Alastor had never cried like that before, as he sat in the snow at her feet, her body stiff from the cold. Not even when his mother had died could he ever remember feeling such a grief. It ate away at him, pooling in the center of his chest and spreading out. She had been so integral to who he was, so much a part of his life and way of being. She had been his dream, his end goal. Alastor remembered the ring, sitting heavy in the drawer of his night table. His tears redoubled.

By the time he managed to calm himself, the early winter sun had long since sunk to its bed and been replaced by the moon. Moving completely on autopilot, not considering his actions, Alastor wrenched her body from the fence. Y/n deserved a proper burial, in a place that mattered. He made her final resting place at the base of the very same tree she had told him she loved him while sitting at. His fingers traced their carved initials, grown hard with the years. There was nothing to be done.

The guilt ate away at him, festered over the years. If only he had stopped her, had gone with her, had come to her rescue. If only he had told her that he loved her one last time.

When Y/n awoke in Hell, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She had never been one to believe in the afterlife in any sort of way, let alone such a wonderful one with so many opportunities for mayhem.

The thing that had been the toughest to get used to was her new form. All the demons in Hell got them upon arrival and when she caught that first glimpse of herself in the glass of a shop window, she understood why everyone on the streets seemed to be eyeing her fearfully.

She looked like she was rotting, her fingertips and toes black from the cold she had lost herself in. It trailed up her limbs, mingling with her own natural skin color. Her hair, her eye lashes, her eyebrows even, looked perpetually frosted with snow, little particles of ice hanging delicately in them. Then there were the horns and the tail, those were by far the strangest. The horns were pure white and curving like a mountain goats, the tail was thin with a little heart shaped ball of fluff at the end. It wasn't until another demon attempted to attack her that she realized the full extent of the changes that had taken place.

Y/n had just tried to punch the man, that was all. He had made advances, she had said no. He had tried again and she had told him she was married. It wasn't entirely a lie, they had been planning on it after all. Still, the man refused to listen and so, she had resorted to brute strength. When she had pulled her fist away, it was to find the man encased in ice. That was when the anger had set in.

Y/n didn't blame Alastor, not really. She was mad at him but, in the end, he had been right. She had died. It was all so brutally unfair. The way they had left things, that final fight, weighed on her soul. She wondered if he even knew she was dead, if he just assumed she had up and left him. The guilt, the what if's of it all, were crushing.

The stronger Y/n's emotions, the more uncontrollable her power. She still attacked people for fun but, taking over half of Pentagram City with her storms had honestly been an accident. In retrospect, she would call it a happy one.

Y/n liked being respected, being feared. She liked the near worship with which the smaller, weaker demons began to treat her. She settled into her new life with surprising ease and soon, every demon and hellborn in the place knew her name: Frost.

Y/n would've liked something different, preferred something cooler but, when the people give someone a name, its hard to change it and so, she embraced the title. Stone cold, cruel, powerful and appearing at what others perceived as totally inopportune moments. She locked herself, her heart, away. She swore never to make the same mistakes again.

Alastor visited Y/n's grave at least once every year. Always on the anniversary of her death, sometimes more frequently. That was where he too had met his death. As he had stooped low to place the bouquet of flowers he had brought on the surface of the hard-packed earth, the hunter had shot him, thinking he was a deer.

His arrival in Hell had been uneventful and not all together shocking. Alastor had been raised in a Christian household and although he never truly had faith in the matter once he had been old enough to form his own opinions, he had still always assumed that if there was life after death he was going to end up in Hell. He also knew that if he had ended up down here, Y/n had too.

The search was all consuming and fruitless. Every demon he interrogated, every one he thought had the slightest spark of his love within them, never had a single clue what he was talking about. Half the city was a snow storm and before long, that half was the only part he hadn't searched. Allegedly it was the territory of some new overlord known only as Frost who had taken Hell by storm - literally - just a few years before. Alastor already had a distaste in his mouth for the overlords, a sort of hatred spawned from something close to envy. He figured that worst case scenario, he could just add this Frost character to the list over overlords he had already taken out in the year since his arrival.

The chill of the air as he stepped over the border was a cruel reminder of the truth of his life. Alastor welcomed the cold with open arms, wondered if Y/n had already been killed since arriving in Hell. He had heard of the exterminations, it wasn't too wild of an idea. The thought gnawed on his mind like a parasite, intent on seeing him dead. Alastor progressed.

The fact that in death he still felt such things as hunger had been a mystery to him. There was something poetic about it, something forlorn in the idea that hunger and touch were the only things that followed a person to their grave. He stepped into the restaurant, his stomach growling, and walked up to the bar.

"Do you have beignets?"

Alastor knew the answer before the barkeep even shook his head. He sighed, falling on to one of the stools.

"Sausage and grits."

"Coming right up."

Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, watching the world around him. Hope was running thin, anxieties and hurt taking over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much more disappointment he could take.

"Haven't seen you around before, Darling," a voice purred from behind him, sending shockwaves of pain through his chest, "new in town?"

He summoned his microphone into his hand, ready to fight. It didn't matter that the demon most likely had no idea the effect of their words, the connections they had to his own past life. All that mattered was that he felt like he was being mocked, the world was parroting his life back to him because Y/n was out of his reach and probably would be forever more. He turned to face the person, a sickening grin spread tight across his face.

The demon had a clearing around her, the crowd avoiding her at all costs and whispering to one another behind the cover of their hands. Her tail flicked back and forth, ice emanating from the place her feet hit the floor.

There was something oddly familiar about her, the cocky smirk, the confidence. Alastor got to his feet. He leered over her and the woman didn't flinch one bit.

"Who's asking?"

A threat. The smile on the smaller demon's face grew, snow beginning to pile up on the floor in the corners of the room.

"You know, it's really far too cruel of you to go around with a voice like that." she hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin, "Gets a girl's hopes up just to shatter 'em on the floor."

Alastor could feel it now, the cold nipping at his extremities. Wind picked up in the indoor space and demons began rushing out through the door as quickly as they could. Alastor stood his ground.

"Ah, so you're the one responsible for this little snow town?"

"Why yes, I am."

"You're rather cruel yourself, you know." he mused, "Using my own words against me, how did you know? Do you overlords have some way to read a person's mind? Find the center of their desire and turn it to a weapon?"

Only now did the woman's expression change. Her calm facade morphed into confusion as the winds died down.

"What do you mean?"

"'Haven't seen you around here before, Darling, new in town?'" Alastor scoffed.

Y/n's eyes widened with a sudden recognition. It only fueled Alastor's anger as he took a step forward, shadows rising from the ground at his feet.

"I-"

"Just moved in, actually." the demon cut him off, holding a hand out for him to take, palm to the floor.

Alastor looked at her, disgust etched into his features.

"How could you..." he trailed off.

Eyes flicking over her form, Alastor examined the demoness carefully. Sure, she was different. She looked half dead, frost bitten to the extreme but, there was certainly something familar.

"Who are..."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was icy to the touch, sent shivers down his spine. With a practiced grace, he leaned down and planted a feathery kiss on the back of her hand.

"Ah, a charmer." Y/n smiled as he raised his head to hers again, "I'll have to be careful around you."

"Y/n."

It wasn't a question, he knew the answer. Alastor could feel it in his bones.

"Alastor."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Alastor watched her movements in astonishment. Disbelief laid thick on his body, too heavy to allow him to move.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his ear, her breath a cold breeze.

"I... why are you sorry?" he asked, pulling her away from him.

Alastor placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing off a bit of snow that had landed there with utmost care.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have come with you, I shouldn't have said the things I said, I sh-"

"I love you."

She couldn't hold the words in anymore. Icicles of tears tinkled like glass as they fell from her cheeks and landed on the floor.

"I... I love you, Alastor. I can't... I always regretted... I..."

"Me too."

He pulled her back into his arms, this time holding her body tightly to his. The cold burned but he didn't care. The whistling of the wind outside seemed to quiet.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I am so sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

Y/n pulled back, cupping Alastor's face in her hands.

"Never again."

"Never what, my love."

"Never again will I be parted from you."

"I thought I'd never see you again." Alastor admitted, "I was beginning to lose hope."

"Me too, me too."

"Never again."

----

Next Part -> Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

A/N I am such a little slut for a good reunion scene.

256 notes · View notes

ateezscupid · 5 months

Note

Hiiii I love your fics ! I wanted to know if you could do a fic with dom- minjoong and sub f. reader ?

𝗧𝗪𝗢'𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗢𝗡𝗘 ★

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - you planned a calm night with mingi and hongjoong recording in the studio, but it ended way differently than you thought it would.

warn - smut and fluff, dom!mingi, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fingering, oral (m and f), praise and some degrading if u squint LOL, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl, love), poly!au, big dick mingi, reader's shorter than joong and min, kind of size difference mentioned BUT there is a size kink if u squint, unprotected sex, joong and mingi are pussy drunk and absolutely love the reader

w/c -

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @yeolistic @jeonride @ate-ez

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and i finished it. also, back from my break babes! ^^

Mingi and Hongjoong were like two peas in a pod. they did — quite literally — everything together. They went to concerts together, designed merchandise together, produced and wrote lyrics together; even going to the bathroom together seemed like something the two boys did a lot. you’ve always loved their friendship. It was so cute how Mingi would treat Hongjoong like a younger brother even though Joong was older, and he kind of just accepted it knowing he couldn’t get Mingi to stop.

When you introduced yourself to the two, you didn’t realize how easy it was for them to become attached to you. They acted like they had known you for years, and for you it felt like you had found your soulmates because of their welcoming aura. Out of all of your friends, Hongjoong and Mingi were your favorites.

Hongjoong was the friend who spent too much time at work trying to make sure whatever he was working on was perfect — and who also had a bit of a smoking problem. Hongjoong was high most of the time whenever you saw him.

Mingi was the friend who was — just like hongjoong — always high, except he didn’t spend a lot of time in the studio. He was always out at clubs or doing something stupid with the other members.

To say the least, the boys were like fully grown adult babies.

Since your schedule was always empty, you spent a lot of time with the Ateez members; specifically with Joong and Mingi. You were always hanging out at their music video sets, in their dressing rooms, or just in general in the KQ building doing god knows what. It was fun hanging out with the boys. They acted so normal around you and you loved it.

Now you were hanging out with Mingi and Hongjoong in the studio. They were song writing and producing a few songs while you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone. There was definitely silence in the studio, ignoring the music playing, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. You three were fine being in complete silence as long as it meant being in each others presence.

“Yo Hj, go over that one line again,” Mingi peeked above his computer. “Y/n, are you bored? Sorry if we’re not talking to you, we’re just really focused.”

“What?” you scoff playfully and sit up. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t really care about you guys talking to me or not, Im fine either way.”

“Cool, just makin’ sure.” Min smiled then looked back at his computer. You always found him adorable whenever he wore glasses. They fit him so well, and he didn’t seem to agree until you started complimented him. It wasn’t long after that he started wearing his glasses more often.

With or without the glasses, Mingi had a pretty face. It was the same for Hongjoong. You’ve always found the two men incredibly attractive; your eyes examining their features whenever they weren’t looking. You of course never acted upon your emotions, but there have been moments between you three that would confirm your feelings for them.

Like the time you were hanging out with the boys while they were filming Inception. As of now, you’re confused why you didn’t choose Seonghwa first. Everything about him in that music video had you drooling. As if his body being drenched in water wasn’t enough, his facial expressions and body made you horny desperate for him.

Hongjoong and Mingi both noticed how your body was reacting to Seonghwa’s movements during the dance and felt jealous. They didn’t remember you looking at them like that. You remember the boys bombarding you with questions after they made it back to their dorms.

“Do you like Seonghwa?” and “Do you have a crush on anybody?”

“Why were you looking at Seonghwa like that?”

“Do you have a crush on anybody?”

All these questions were new to you since they hadn’t bothered you like this before. You could only assume it was because of the way you looked at Seonghwa that made them jealous. But why were they jealous? They didn’t like you, at least, that’s what you thought. They never showed any signs that told you they were interested in you… Unless they did and you were too dumb to realize.

Just thinking about it now made you wonder if they actually liked you, and if they had like you this entire time, why didn’t they say anything? You thought they’d be fighting over you if they both liked you but they weren’t.

Clearly they didn’t have a problem with sharing.

You stare at your phone for a few minutes contemplating on whether or not you should ask them. Or better yet, just blurt out that you like them and see where that takes you. You glance over at Hongjoong, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you. He immediately looked away and stared at the sheet of lyrics in front of him, Mingi noticing the flushed look on his face and looking at you. They knew you knew.

“Can I ask you guys something?” you finally muster up the courage to say something. It looked as if the blood drained from their face when you said that.

“Uh, sure,” Mingi closes his laptop halfway and Hongjoong nods, taking his headphones off completely.

“Do you guys have a crush on anybody? We’ve been friends for long and we’ve talked about almost any and everything but crushes. How come you guys never told me about any crushes you guys have? Or had.”

Hongjoong looks at Mingi, mouth ajar as if he were going to speak but stayed quiet. Mingi was also quiet, fidgeting with his mouse and looking around the room. Clearly they were nervous to answer the question, and you didn’t mean to make them nervous.

“Sorry if I’m asking for too much, I just wanna know! I mean, you guys have told me your celebrity crushes but that’s not the same.”

“I mean,” Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, slightly lifting his hips. You noticed this and bit your lip, struggling to keep eye contact with him.

“We never told you because it’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated? If you don’t mind me asking,” You cris-cross your legs on the couch. “I mean, I’m pretty easy to talk to. You guys know this.”

“We know!” Mingi sighed. “If we told you, you’d freak out. And you’d probably think we were weird,”

“I won’t think you’re weird! Come on, it’s just us,” you walk over to the chair next to Mingi and sit down in it, placing a hand on his arm and tilting your head. Your small touch alone made Mingi shiver.

“Well, we…” he glances over at Hongjoong who nodded his head in approval. “we like you.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting at all. Well, you kinda did expect it but it was surprising. They said it so easily as if they weren’t scared to tell you earlier. Averting your gaze to Hongjoong, he nodded slowly as if saying what Mingi said was true. You knew the boys wouldn’t lie to you. You all made an agreement that you’d tell each other anything no matter what it was.

“Sorry if it’s so sudden,” Hongjoong sighs deeply. “I know I said I wasn’t really looking to date anyone and Mingi knew that too, but you kinda just…came into our life and changed it ever since.”

“Do you both like me? I already know the answer but I like it hearing it from you guys.” you smile and kick your feet.

“Oh my god,” Mingi chuckles. His deep voice was always so attractive. “First Joong liked you and I may or may not have teased him a bit for his stupid crush on you. But then I started understanding why he liked you and then I started liking you. We kinda had to come to an agreement since we didn’t know what to do if both of us liked you.”

“I’m not gonna say we argued, but we argued.” Hongjoong chuckles behind his desk. “We both sorta agreed to being okay with the other liking you, but we don’t know if you’re okay with…dating two people.”

“Joong, are you kidding? If it’s you two I don’t care. I’m actually kind of relieved that you guys don’t mind dating me. I thought I’d have to choose between you guys and I didn’t want to do that.”

“Well now you don’t have to since you know we both like you,” Mingi leaned back in his chair — manspreading. You thought you had better self control but you definitely didn’t. Just seeing him sit like that made you rub your legs together. You weren’t aware of the fact that the boys saw you doing this, nor were you aware of the looks they gave each other.

“So…I assume this means we’re — dating? All of us?”

“Would you like that Y/n?” Hongjoong averted his gaze, his eyes glazing over your body. He could never get over how good you looked in his and Mingi’s clothes. Being surprisingly shorter than Mingi and Hongjoong, their clothes were always baggy on your body, which made them so comfortable. He liked watching you rummage through their closets trying to find an outfit for the day since you had given up on wearing your own clothes.

“I would love that!” You say with a gummy smile, a bit too excited for your own good.

“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t say anything about us before. I mean, you said you knew we liked you,” Mingi said.

“Well I didn’t wanna say anything before because I wasn’t really sure. I only went by the things you guys were doing and you guys were doing a lot.”

“Like what?” Hongjoong tilts his head.

You didn’t think he’d ask. “Y’know, getting jealous whenever I looked or even talked to the other members, over complimenting me even when I looked bad, always staring at my body — Mingi, you liked looking at my tits. I always caught you look at them,”

“You looked at her tits?” Joong raised his eyebrow at Mingi.

“I-I did like once,” Mingi scratches the back of his head. “You’ve looked at her ass before so you can’t sit here and act like you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You’ve looked at my ass before?” the question made them both flustered. You weren’t necessarily surprised by the behavior; more so happy they even admitted to doing it. At least they felt comfortable enough to tell you things like that.

“Well are there any more embarrassing things you guys wanna spill about each other or are you guys done?”

Hongjoong started giggling, covering his mouth with his hand and looking at Mingi. You could tell it was something stupid based off the way he sounded.

“Mingi didn’t know how to—”

“Shut up dickhead!” Mingi shouted defensively not even allowing Hongjoong to finish. Him interrupting only made Joong laugh louder. His laughing caused you to start laughing.

“Joong say it! What is it!” You lean closer, arms resting on the desk. Mingi tried covering your ears but you kept moving.

“He was scared to tell you he liked you because he thought you guys would kiss and he didn’t know how to kiss so he asked me to help him!” Hongjoong almost fell back in his chair laughing, his headphones falling off his neck and his legs kicking underneath the desk. Mingi was definitely embarrassed, though he seemed to be embarrassed because he couldn’t kiss, not because he kissed Hongjoong.

“You guys kissed? Like — on the lips? Or…” —

“On the lips, Y/n, I didn’t say he could go that far. But he did it to impress youuu! I already know how to kiss so I was fine teaching him what I knew.”

You nod and turn to Mingi. “So he taught you? You know how to kiss now?”

“I-I guess,” he cleared his throat nervously. “You want me to show you?”

“Are you guys really gonna makeout in front of me? If you’re gonna do it, let me watch.” he stands up from his seat and moves toward the couch you were just sitting on, taking a seat himself and positioning himself so he saw you two making out — if you were even going to do so.

Mingi’s eyes glazed over your features, seeming to be glued to your lips since he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Leaning in slowly, his hand lifting and resting on your cheek while pulling your face closed, his and your eyes closing. Hongjoong sat watching in anticipation with his foot tapping on the ground, a wide smile on his face. He kept whispering the words ‘kiss her’ and ‘hurry up’ since you two were taking a bit long.

With his hand holding your cheek and your faces inching closer and closer, your lips finally attached. He captured your lips tenderly, your expression softening as you relaxed in his hood, leaning gently into the kiss to create more friction of some sort. He was enjoying it himself as well — having his arm wrapped around you pulling you deeper into the kiss and making sure you couldn’t back away. Not like you planning on it. It was crazy — a bit unbelievable how he didn’t protest when you asked him to kiss you, but you were happy he was doing it.

As the two of you kissed you felt someone behind you. The only other person in the room was Hongjoong, so you could only assume it was him. He watched closely as you two kissed, growing a bit impatient himself since he didn’t get the chance to kiss you yet.

“Mingi, hurry upp. I wanna kiss her too,” he whined behind you. Once Mingi’s lips separated from yours, Joong’s fingers curled around your neck and leaned down, attaching his own lips to yours and holding you still. Whatever you had gotten yourself into, you couldn’t possibly take yourself out. It wasn’t like you wanted to but you knew you were going to have a fun night.

In full honesty, it was a lot to take in. The both of them were kissing you, their hands all around your body overwhelming your senses. It’s not like you haven’t imagined the two in bed before but for it to happen now was so unexpected.

“She’s so pretty,” Mingi mumbles under his breath, hands gently caressing your thighs. “so gorgeous.”

Hongjoong pulls away from your lips, running a thumb across your cheek. “You think we should do it tonight? Of course, if she’s okay with it.

“Okay with what? W-What do you guys mean?”

“…” Joong looked at Mingi then back to you. “Y’know, a threesome.. If it’s too unexpected we don’t have to do it—”

“Y-Yes! Yeah, whatever you wanna do to me, do it. Please.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. As Mingi pulled you into his lap, Hongjoong stood behind you and held your hair out of your face, fingers still wrapped around your neck as Mingi pulled you into yet another kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance but Min won, making you feel like your body was going numb. They played with you as if you were putty. You began to grind your hips onto Mingi while holding onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth because of the friction. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to get you wet. Just as you were doing so, you felt something big rubbing against your crotch.

You knew what it was.

“Aw she’s moving on harder on you,” Joong teased, his hands moving all across your body and even groping your breasts. “You got hard that quick?”

Mingi broke away from the kiss. “Well what would you do if a girl you liked was grinding on your dick? Would you not get hard?”

“I would but still, damn.” Mingi lets go of you and allows Hongjoong to pull you away from him. He brings you over to the couch and finally settles you into his lap, hands caressing your thighs like Mingi’s did earlier, giving your clothes heat access to his own bulge. You lazily drag yourself against his length. This alone had you soaked in your panties and you were about ready to rip them off of your heated body.

“My pretty girl grinding on me like this,” Hongjoong almost growls in your ear, hugging your waist and groaning softly in your ear. “you’re such a dirty girl,”

“Mm,” you whimper. “I… know,”

Not realizing Mingi had come over, his hands reach underneath your hips and grab the hem of the bottoms you were wearing, pulling them off and discarding them onto the floor next to him. Joong tilted your head at an almost uncomfortable angle to attach his mouth onto yours and you eagerly return the kiss, tongues clashing together.

Mingi watched you grind on each other, though he’s not sure he can handle watching you two do it any longer. He pulls your hips forward and pushes your underwear to the side, hands squishing your thighs and lips enveloping your clit. You jolt and moan into your kiss with Joong while holding onto his leg, gripping for your life at this point.

“So wet,” Mingi hums. “for me?” his fingers come to play with your folds. Your body was surging with such an electric feeling you felt lightheaded. With simple touches, you were already crumbling. It wasn’t like this with your past partners in bed.

His hand slides underneath your ass and attaches his mouth to your heat. Your core was twitching so much, already overstimulated by barely anything. Hongjoong took this as his opportunity to grope your breasts, now comforting you as Mingi ate you out. His tongue moves in and out of you, spending a few seconds looking for that one spongey spot inside of you. Your thighs close around his head, and your back arched off of Joong’s chest.

You couldn’t focus on his hands on your body while Mingi ate you out like this. It was impossible.

Once his fingers enter you everything goes blank, your legs closing immediately and you having to break away from Hongjoong’s kiss to catch your breath. You came so quick and easy it was almost embarrassing.

“She’s so cute!” Hongjoong cooed as he rubbed your waist. “Came so quick from barely anything.”

“Please…” you moan softly, arching your back and trying to grind your hips on Hongjoong again. “I-I… want—”

“We’ll give it to you, baby.” Mingi spoke as he stood to his feet. Joong lifted you from the underside of your legs and placed you on your back on the sofa, Mingi now replacing him and getting between your legs. He stripped himself of his sweatpants and pushed his boxers low enough to where his cock could spring out.

It would be an understatement to say he was just big.

“M-Min…, that’s not gonna fit,”

“Then I’ll make it fit.”

As you were ready to protest, a sharp pain seethed through your body. You hadn’t realized Hongjoong slid behind you and help you lay on top of his chest, your lower body feeling numb once Mingi went inside. You were too focused on the literal intrusion that your body was going through to realize Joong’s hand moving to your clit. He delivered a sharp slap to it, making you lurch forward and cry out loud.

“Aw, poor baby can’t handle it,” Joong murmurs as Mingi began thrusting.

Your walls were contracting against his cock with every movement, hips angled so he could hit your deepest parts. He was so big, stretching your walls and making it feel like you were being ripped apart. Mingi tried going slow so you could adjust to his enormous size, but good god, he was huge. Adjusting to his size was going to take a very long time. He kept glancing at you to check your facial expressions, stopping the movement of his hips if he felt like he was hurting you.

“It’s okay, princess,” Mingi said calmly while doing slow strokes. “I know it’s a lot, just breathe.” his deep voice helped you calm down much faster. He grabs ahold of your hips and speeds up the pace of his thrusts. There was slick already sliding down your thighs.

Immediately your hands flung to his body, hips grinding against him to feel some sort of friction. Your nails dug into his skin while you tried holding on for dear life. It was so much to handle at once.

Reaching your hand back, you were desperately searching for Hongjoong’s dick, anything to hold on your hands. You felt bad since you hadn’t done anything besides kiss him yet, so this was the last you could do. Of course, he attempted to stop you saying he didn’t need you to do anything, but you weren’t listening. You were being driven by sex.

“Y/n, you don’t have to—” your hand grasps onto his clothed dick. He did want you to touch him, so he allowed you to do whatever to him. Of course, the angle at which you were laying made it difficult for you to stroke him, but you tried your best, running your thumb over his slit and spreading his pre-cum all over.

“Joong why don’t you…fuck,” Mingi cursed, head spinning from how nice you felt around his cock. “f-fuck her face. Give her something to do with her filthy little mouth,”

“I-I don’t think she can even hear us—”

“Little whore already fucked out?” Min pants and deepens his thrusts.

Hongjoong slid from underneath your now limp body and grabbed a fistful of your hair, lifting it and wiping the drool off your cheek with his thumb. Mingi held your hips with his nails digging into your body, leaving crescent moon shapes embedded in your skin, while Hongjoong was preparing to face fuck you.

He pulls his pants down to his thighs, pulling your head closer to his hips by your hair and slapping his cock on your cheek. You couldn’t handle the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Open,” Hongjoong spoke, slapping his tip against your lips. You obeyed and lazily opened your mouth. It opened more as he pushed himself inside of you.

“So warm,” he groans. “so wet, all for us.”

Joong was much bigger than you imagined, and you weren’t ashamed to say you had thought about Hongjoong naked before. It was safe to say you’ve thought about all of the members naked. The only ones you’ve thought of the most were Mingi and Hongjoong, mainly Mingi. Even seeing only his collarbone sometimes would cause you to drool. Hongjoong had you drooling whenever you saw any part of his body.

His hips moved back and forth, pushing his cock in and out of your mouth, making sure to hit the back of your throat with each thrust while also making sure you were still breathing. Though you didn’t mind if he made it hard for you to breathe. Being used like a cum dump by these two has been a dream of yours for a while.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels good…” Hongjoong groaned as his pace accelerated. You gagged each time his tip hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t care.

A sharp thrust from Mingi’s hips caused your body to jerk and for a string of fire to shoot down to your core. Your moans were muffled due to Joong being in your mouth, but it only fueled Min to go faster inside of you, thinking about how you’d sound if your mouth wasn’t full right now. Joong placed his hand on the back of your head and began thrusting his hips faster, droll trickling down your bottom lip and down your chin from the stimulation.

Your thighs wouldn’t stop twitching. However, how could they stop? Mingi was plowing the last amount of life out of your hole, and Hongjoong used your mouth as if you were a glory hole for him and only him for his own personal use.

How could you possibly stay still during all this?

“I think—fuck, I think she’s close.” Mingi groans and plants his hands on the couch cushions, freeing your hips from his hold and allowing his own to angle differently so he can strike into you deeper.

Your head was spinning at this point. You had no control over the noises you made or your body anymore. Everything about you belonged to them now. Knowing you were close to your release, Hongjoong pulled his member out of your mouth and slapped it on your cheek gently, allowing you to rest your head on his lap while Mingi was wrecking your hole. Your eyes rolled back, your head fell, and garbled words spilled out of your mouth. All you can do is whine and cry out in pleasure while your head spins.

Mingi brings his hand down and presses his thumb against your aching clit, rubbing in fast circles to push you further over the edge until you tipped over, curses spilling out from your swollen lips alongside Mingi's name. At the same time, Mingi held onto your thighs and bottomed out inside of you finally dumping his load inside of you. Your head falls into Hongjoong's lap. He runs his fingers through your hair, easing you through your orgasm.

"You okay, tiny?" Hongjoong caresses your cheek. It took a moment to catch your breath after everything that happened. Jesus, that was a lot.

"I..." After catching your breath, you looked at Hongjoong with puppy eyes and a pout you knew he couldn't resist. "Joongie~" you whine while reaching for his hand. Mingi couldn't help but laugh at how desperate you were. How completely fucked out you looked too.

"What is it?"

"You haven't gotten a turn yet..." you mumbled while pulling on his shirt. Mingi moved out of the way without saying a word, gesturing for Hongjoong to come over. The two men switched places with Hongjoong near your hips and Mingi behind your head caressing your cheek.

Hongjoong wasn't as big as Mingi, but his length made up for it. You knew it would hit your sweet spot easily. Hongjoong positioned himself in front of you, tip lined up with your entrance and his unoccupied hand holding onto your hip. Slowly -- achingly slow, he pushes himself into you in one go, holding onto your hips tightly to not lose balance. Mingi, on the other hand, had his hand on your breast playing with your nipple. So much was happening at once it was hard to keep up.

"It's okay," Joong coos, beginning to thrust in and out of you gently. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm with Mingi. Hongjoong had just started, and it felt good. "Fuck, you're tight."

Out of nowhere, he picks up his pace. He didn't give you enough time to adjust to his length and started pounding into you, gliding his cock in and out of your warmth and watching your juices coat his member. When he heard a whimper escape your lips, he knew he was doing a good job.

"Babe," he says in between pants. "T-Touch yourself for me, yeah? Give Mingi a show while he watches,"

Embarrassed but ultimately turned on, you complied and slithered your hand down your stomach and toward your throbbing clit, rubbing rough and fast circles on it to bring yourself closer to orgasm. Hongjoong winced as you clenched around his cock from the sensation.

"Oh, fuck please," you cried out. "I-I'm gonna cum, slow down-!"

"Already?" Mingi chuckles. "What do you think, Joong? Should we let her?"

"Dammit, if she does, then I-I just might." he shudders, both hands holding onto your hips and slamming his cock in and out of your sopping hole. "I think, fuck, she's been good. Let go, baby."

You were so so close to cumming, the speed of your fingers speeding up as the circles you were rubbing in became sloppy. Occasionally you'd lose focus and wouldn't even move your fingers due to your brain turning to mush. Their voices sounded muffled in your ears. Everything they said went through one ear and out the other.

"Fuck fuck fuck-!" the volume of your moans gradually increased until you couldn't handle it anymore and came. You arched your back and curled your toes, holding onto Hongjoong's wrists. You clenched so tightly around his cock that it pushed him over the edge. He dumped his load inside of you, moaning your name and panting heavily.

"Wow.." Mingi whistles, looking at your fucked out face. "You're so pretty when you cum."

"Shut up," you replied, embarrassed with your hands over your face.

"That was fun," Hongjoong sighs deeply. "I'd do it again." he says while looking at Mingi. Mingi nods in agreement and the two look at you, waiting for your answer.

"I...wouldn't mind."

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