#we’re left with the shit slow ones so it kept getting backed up

[cozage]

hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !

Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k

Silent Treatment

Sabo

Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.

He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace. 

“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”

“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?” 

He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders. 

Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed. 

“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”

“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”

“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”

Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either. 

He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”

Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning. 

When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning. 

He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.

He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon. 

If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything. 

He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you. 

“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”

Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come. 

“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss. 

“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil. 

“Well…bitchy.”

Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground. 

“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room. 

“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible. 

He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off. 

“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.

“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”

“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.

He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”

His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”

“If you want me to.”

“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”

“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.

“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”

“You WHAT?!”

Law

You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”

“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him. 

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”

The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.

He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.  

“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”

“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”

You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.

Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”

“Like how?”

A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”

“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”

Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.

“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.

Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?” 

“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle. 

“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut. 

That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today. 

Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.

Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.

“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.

Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence. 

“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”

“I should go talk to-”

“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in. 

It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.

It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty? 

He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check. 

They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”

“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”

“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse. 

He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping. 

“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”

You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up. 

“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.” 

“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment. 

Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him. 

“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir. 

You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”

Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”

“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”

Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”

“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”

Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.

So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it. 

Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape.  “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear. 

You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on. 

You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen. 

“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”

You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it. 

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”

Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”

“I promise I won’t.”

You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?” 

“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.

You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room. 

Ace

Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one. 

Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient. 

“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”

But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them. 

He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar. 

Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man. 

Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test. 

Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.

“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it. 

“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.” 

Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”

“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“

“MARCO!”

“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”

“How?”

“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”

It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory. 

“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”

“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”

Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”

“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”

You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door. 

The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long. 

He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”

Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”

“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”

“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully. 

“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”

Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work. 

Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed. 

He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself. 

He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line. 

“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked. 

“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”

You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”

“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed. 

“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”

You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings. 

He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you. 

“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line. 

Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”

“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”

“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”

Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him. 

He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees. 

“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish. 

You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away. 

“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. 

You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down. 

“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile. 

“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try. 

“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology. 

“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”

You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds. 

“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”

You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more. 

“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #sabo #op sabo #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #sabo x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #cozage #✧˚law✧˚ #✧˚ace✧˚

[astonmartingf]

HAVEN'T MET YOU YET ; JB22

jenson button x fem!reader

. . . slowing down as the high life of the party, jenson turns a new leaf and thinks optimistically about his plans in the future concerning his love life.

amgf finally moving the last couple works 😭 i definitely procrastinated moving these because they're so long and quite frankly i chose to study than move these but now i have time, i can't escape i need to do this for the alo fic to be posted

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

Frozen in front of his hotel room, muttering a string of curses to himself Jenson stood still tracing back the events that led him to this.

Making his way to the front door, Jenson was faced with an eager German and an Australian fellow trailing behind him. With raised brows, Jenson opened the doors wider letting both men inside.

“Are you coming with us tonight?” Sebastian, wasting no time, asked diving into his kept bed making Mark grimace.

“I’m actually choosing to stay in, rest early for tomorrow.” Jenson nods, convincing himself of his plans to stay in. This doesn’t go unnoticed as Sebastian shared a look with Mark before turning his head towards Jenson.

Uncharacteristically for the Briton, Webber expressed his confusion first with raised eyebrows, “You’re staying in? Why?”

Shrugging, Jenson pushes Seb to make space for himself. “I just don’t want to go outside, also there’s practice tomorrow. I don't want to go out for drinks.”

“Okay. we’re not necessarily going out for drinks. Just dinner, walking around the town, maybe a few light drinks here and there.” Sebastian sits up in an attempt to convince Jenson to come out with them. Noticing his reluctance the German looks up to Mark for support.

“Is this about the headlines about you?” Sebastian let out a small groan, brows furrowed directed towards Mark as he mouths “What about discreet do you not understand?”

Mark scoffs in reply, keeping his hands in his pockets, tired of the German’s antics. The exchange however left Jenson smiling to himself, which was a win for the two.

“Are you here to distract and cheer me up?”

Pressing his lip into a thin line in admittance, Sebastian looks over toward Jenson who’s been silent for quite some time.

Breaking the silence, Mark removes his hands from his pocket walking near to Jenson ina soft voice speaking, “If you don’t want to, you don’t-”

“I’ll go”

“Really?” Perking up, Sebastian hurried jumps off the bed pulling Jenson towards the front door.

“Okay we’re going now.” Hooking his arms to both men, Mark drags both of them outside.

Shit.

Exactly. Letting Sebastian and Mark drag him downtown for dinner was the plan, yet somehow the trio managed to lose each other as the night came, assuming the pair had gone over for drinks at some local bar. Jenson didn’t want to be associated with that, not at the moment that is.

Because as much as Jenson tried to hide it, their words were eating at him every time. And just like the rumors say, somewhere in between he believed them, and in turn began to question his own character.

Fuck.

Rubbing his eyes awake, Jenson looked around the hallway looking for anyone familiar who could help him. With no phone, no key card, and in a different country there’s no one he could truly contact to ask for help. Opting to sleep out on the hallways for the night, Jenson was on the verge of giving up.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you okay?”

English.

Jenson looks up, unsure if it was the jetlag, the light drinks, or the lack of sleep in his system but Jenson knew what was in front of him was an angel, his savior, he knew then and there he would give her everything- despite him not having anything at the moment.

“I’m not.” Stopping himself, Jenson chose his words carefully. Shocked at his own honesty, this was the first time he felt vulnerable. He can’t help but open up to such a beautiful stranger, even when he goes over his thoughts, everything is hazy.

“I’m locked out of my room with no phone, no wallet to even get a new one because my friends convinced me to go out. Not that I blame them, I was moping and being sad, and they had good intentions, I said I wouldn’t go out for drinks, and somewhere in between I lost them. I don’t know how I ended up back in the hotel, but I just want to sleep.” Jenson yawned in between his rant, leaning towards the wall, eyes drifting to sleep.

“Do you maybe want to sleep in my room?” Jenson turned his head, now you truly were his savior. But despite his excitement, Jenson couldn’t help but frown to himself.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you. I’m sorry you had to sit with me on the floor, listening to me rant about my day.”

Chuckling you stood up in front of him, that’s when Jenson thought- he’d never have a chance with you. You were choosing to walk away, which is understandable since he was nothing but a mere stranger. To you, he could be lying just to find a way in your room, something he had done before.

Now he is crushed that karma has gotten back to him by letting him meet the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, when he’s on the lowest of lows and never to be seen again.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. Fortunately for you I happened to pass by you and your friends earlier, it’s Mark right?”

Grabbing your hand, Jenson laughs before introducing himself, “That’s my friend, I’m Jenson.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Jenson. I’m Y/N, I stay in the room at the end of the hallway. Let’s get you to sleep, I wouldn’t want you to end your night on such a sad note. Especially after your friends tried to cheer you up.”

“Thank you Y/N, you’re actually my savior.”

jensonbutton

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit, and 1,640,462 others

jensonbutton four months ago you met me and i was at my worst yet welcomed me with open arms.

staying with me when i was locked out of my hotel room, i thought of you as my savior and i remember saying that before falling asleep.

listening to my worries as a stranger, i didn't think we'd grow as friends and eventually lovers. since the day we met my day hasn't ended on such a sad note.

yourusername i love you and i'm glad to be a part of your life. i'm thankful that i'm with you now, and always.

view 857,248 comments...

aussiegrit i'm happy for you two 🤍

sebastianvettel aren't you glad we invited you out, or else you wouldn't have met each other

jensonbutton okay thank you seb and mark

aussiegrit you're acting like we were there, we literally left him alone in the middle of the night, i'm sorry jense

jensonbutton you dragged me out and left me, if it wasn't for y/n i would be sleeping in the hallway

sebastianvettel thank you yourusername you're cute together and i'm taking the credit ☺️

user1 wait jensey/n lore????

user2 i thought of you as my savior 😭😭😭 hello?

user3 it's always i love you and never "SINCE THE DAY WE MET MY DAY HASN'T ENDED ON SUCH A SAD NOTE" 🥹😤😭🥹😤😭😤🥹😭😤

user4 how are we feeling everyone?

user5 happy crying 😭😭😭

user6 MY PARENTS >>>>> i called it

user7 have y'all seen yn's post 🥹

user8 i love them your honor 🥲

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton and 98,734 others

yourusername four months, since the day i met you. in such a short time i've seen your highs and lows and even then i knew that i wanted to be with you.

you changed my life and i'm constantly proud of you, i won't stop reminding you on how deserving you are of every good thing in life.

you fill me with pride, joy, and i'm so lucky to be with you. since then i knew that i wouldn't let your night end on such a sad note.

jensonbutton i love you so much.

comments are limited by the user.

jensonbutton thank you for giving me a chance to show my love to you.

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #jenson button smau #jenson button x reader #jenson button fluff

[suugarbabe]

[chapter 6]

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of parental death, mentions of physical abuse with description, SMUT, 18+ content MDNI!!

Word count: 5.5k

An: sorry this chapter took so long to come out. There’s probably going to be a week between each chapter moving forward. Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. Also no Enzo this chapter sozz:(

Crawling on the floor you tried to gasp for breath only to start choking on the blood that kept filling your mouth from the split in your lip. You saw your wand in the corner of the room, trying to quicken your pace only to be flipped to your back by a heel kicked into your ribs, the little wind you had left knocked out of you.

You peered up at the looming figure above you. The smirk on Damiano’s face showing he was not anywhere near done with torturing you. “Godric you’re so bloody pathetic, Sunshine. I don’t know why I give you so many chances when all you do is disappoint and betray me. I really should just put you out of your misery shouldn’t I?”

He pointed his wand directly towards you. Your breaths were shallow, a sheen of sweat covering your skin from fighting and trying to defend yourself. You outstretched your hand toward the corner, Damiano’s gaze flicking towards where your vision strayed from him. “Oh sunshine, there’s no use, it’s out of reach. I’ve won.”

You mustered the deepest breath you could, mumbling a faint ‘accio Acacia wand’. Damiano went to laugh at your efforts until your wand started vibrating against the ground before shooting straight into your open palm. His eyes widened as you pointed your wand towards his feet, a small mumbled “bombarda” leaving your lips and causing him to launch into the air and into the wall behind him.

Damiano fell to the ground, body limp and seemingly knocked out, dead if you were lucky. You crawled to your feet. Doing your best to get out of the house as quickly as possible with the injuries you’d sustained. You tried to run, tried to get as far away as possible when you heard him calling your name. You tried to hide but he was faster it seemed, you couldn’t see him but you felt his grasp on your shoulders, shaking you, calling your name over and over.

“Uccellina! Wake up, love!” Your eyes shot open, grabbing hold of the person in front of you as your chest rose and fell, trying to slow down your pulse and gain your normal rhythm of breath back. “Gesù Christo, are you okay? You’re fucking drenched in sweat, c’mere.” You were pulled against his chest and immediately you held on, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. But the scent was not Mattheo’s, it was cigarette smoke and…patchouli?

You pulled back immediately, looking into the eyes of a raging ocean of concern. “Theo..?” His name came out as a question, you were genuinely confused by his presence, “W-what are you doing here?” Theo looked behind himself sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, “I was told to, erm, keep an eye on you.” Following his gaze you saw a blanket on the floor next to the sitting chair in the corner.

Realization of what Theo was implying hit you & you shoved his chest harshly before scooting back toward your headboard, hugging your knees to your chest. “You were fucking watching me sleep?” Theo reached a hand out to you but decided to immediately retract it, letting out a long sigh. “Technically, no. I was also sleeping. But Mattheo told me you get nightmares and that it’d probably be better if I slept in here.”

“And where is Mattheo? If he’s so concerned why is he not the one ‘watching’ me?” Your mind was reeling, trying to understand each bit of information you were consuming. Theo stood up now, reaching his arms above his head to stretch, his voice straining slightly as he spoke, “Gone for a few days, gave me strict instructions to watch you and keep you out of trouble, so,” his mouth upturned to the most shit eating grin, “we’re attached at the hip until boss man comes back.”

You groaned, flopping down on your side and covering your head with your pillow. Theo only laughed at your reaction, “C’mon, uncellina, time to get up anyway. Gimball’s made us a fruit breakfast, thought we could eat by the garden.” You sat up on your elbows then, giving him a curious look, “Taking me on a breakfast date, Teddy?” Theo scrunched his nose up at the nickname you gave him, shaking his head, “Merlin, no. Mattheo would have my head if he thought I would even look at you with more intention than protection.”

Sitting up fully, you slid off your bed with a huff, “I’m getting tired of people acting like Mattheo has some sort of shield over me that no one else is allowed to penetrate.” You walked toward your closet, rummaging through your clothes. Theo made a noise behind you that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a grunt. You turned to him, slipping on a jumper as you walked towards your dresser drawers, “Something to say, Teddy?” Theo shoved his hands in his pockets, “If you can’t see it, love, I’m not enlightening you.” You held up your middle finger as you grabbed a pair of leggings from your drawer, Theo leaving the room so you could finish getting changed in peace.

The sound of your boots echoed off the marble floor as you walked through the foyer towards the back of the house. You stood, looking out the back sliding windows, taking in the vastness of the manor. “Ready?” Theo’s voice caused you to nearly jump from your skin, turning around and slapping his shoulder, “Fanculo! Do not sneak up on me, Theordore!” Theo wore a rather amused smirk, “Pali italiano?” (You speak italian?) You crossed your arms, mirroring his facial expression, “Sì, un po’. (Yes, a little) Impressed?”

Theo opened the door, motioning for you to lead the way to the garden, “I am actually, where did you learn?” You and Theo fell in step easily and you both made the walk along the path, “Ehm, my mother. She grew up in Rome, met my father in school. Then they moved to London afterwards, had me.” You shrugged your shoulders like it was any other information being shared. “What’re they up to now?” Theo asked curiously. You stiffened slightly, approaching the table by the garden and sitting quickly, “They, erm, died…in the war.”

You glanced down at your plate, a gorgeous array of colorful fruits that Gimball arranged along with flutes of what looked like orange juice with a pitcher between them. “I…I’m sorry, uncellina, I didn’t mean-” You shook your head, cutting him off, “S’okay, Teddy.” You looked up, meeting his eyes. He was chewing on his lower lip, looking like he was holding back words, “Don’t fret, Tesoro. It’s over, done and forgotten. S’not even my biggest trauma,” you let out a small laugh, trying to make light, but you caught Theo looking at you still, now adorning pity eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Theo was doing his best to sound comforting, which you could tell was foreign to him. You smiled softly, shaking your head, “We’re not quite there yet, maybe nearer the end of your babysitting duties, hmm?” Theo nodded, chucking softly and smiling along with you. You picked up a flute of juice, spinning it slowly in your fingertips and holding it up to the sun, “Do you think Gimball was kind enough to make these in to mimosas for us?”

The two of you spend the next three mornings like that, having breakfast at the garden. You were slowly breaking down Theo’s walls with each conversation, allowing yourself to grow fond and build a bond with him. You learned of how awful his father was, a devoted follower of the Dark Lord to the point of nearly ignoring Theo’s existence if it wasn’t beneficial for him. You learned that Theo’s mother passed when he was young, early on in his Hogwarts years, but that Theo’s knowledge of plants and gardens came from her as she used to show him how things that looked so small and un-intimidating could be so powerful and useful.

Theo learned how your father taught you potions work and that your mother was a healer, which made sense to him after what you did to save Enzo. Theo found that you were actually quite funny, very witty, and probably too smart for your own good. He would joke that ‘you could be the boss instead of Mattheo’. You laughed, assuring him that you did not want the responsibility and you were glad to be whatever it was you were to them, of which you admitted you weren’t quite sure.

When you said that on the third morning, Theo couldn’t help but look at you endearingly, “Do you really not see your purpose here yet, uncellina?” You cheeks flushed red as you avoided eye contact, shaking your head. Theo clicked his tongue at you, a small smile forming on his lips, “Darling…you are the glue. You keep us together, never let us get too big of heads, certainly reminding us when we do.” This earned a small smile from you and Theo continued, “There’s been something missing from our dynamic as a family for a while. I won’t lie, when you first showed up I was skeptical.”

“I could tell,” you huffed a small laugh. Theo continued, “I know, I know, I wasn’t the kindest. But I’m protective. Hex me over it,” he shrugged his shoulders, “but you came and it’s like whatever we were missing was fulfilled with you.”

You were smiling, but your eyes were brimming with tears, “How can I be the glue when I’m still so broken inside, Teddy?” Theo got up from his chair, sitting down on the bench beside you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your head to his chest, “Darling, we’re all a little broken inside, that’s why we're a family. A bunch of misfit witches and wizards, yeah?” He held you back by your shoulders, giving you the goofiest grin. You choked out a small laugh, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“There she is, there’s our little badass, can’t let Malfoy see you cry now, he’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled from your lips again at Theo’s words. You’d grown so close to him over the last couple of days you couldn’t stop the next words from falling out of your mouth. “Fuck, he just… he hurt me so bad, Theo. I dunno how to get over it. I relive it nearly every time I close my eyes and try to sleep, I don’t know what to do, how to get better form it.”

Theo looked back towards the manor, “Who hurt you? Malfoy? I’ll hex him, I swear it, he’s just in his office, I can probably do it from here.” He took his wand from his pocket, pointing it towards a set of windows. You grabbed his wrist quickly, “No, Teddy, not Draco. That’s not what I mean….it was…” you trailed off, but Theo was able to finish your sentence for you. “Damiano.” You tensed at the name, facial features wincing and eyes shutting like just the mere mention of him would cause him to appear in front of you, despite knowing of all the protective features of the manor.

“Wait…,” you looked up at him now, “how do you-”

“Mattheo asked all of us if we knew who he was after that first session, when you told him,” Theo cut you off, giving you your explanation. “I’ve heard of him before,” Theo was looking just past you now, into the flowerbed on the outskirts of the garden, “comes from a very prominent Italian wizarding family, very very dangerous.” Theo looked you in the eyes now, “How did you manage to even get caught up in that, love? I thought you said your family left Italy.”

You shrugged, looking away from his stare, “After my parents died, I wanted to feel close to them again. I went to both places that they came from, my father’s first, then my mothers. When I was in Italy he…he came up to me. I was in a pub, by myself, stupid now that I look back on it. He approached me, told me I was beautiful,” you shook your head, “Actually, the little manipulator said to me ‘Eyes like yours belong to the most beautiful of Greek goddesses, so what is a goddess doing in Italy all alone’. Sounds cheesy in English but in italian…”

Theo let out a low whistle, “Quite the charming sentence I’m sure.” You nodded. “So what happened? How did it turn in to…” Theo trailed off, not even really knowing how to ask as he didn’t really know how bad it had gotten before you left. You sighed, closing your eyes as you responded, “Maybe a month later it turned into chaos. He must have known about my mother, or someone in his family knew of my mother’s side or something? I knew I came from a long line of healers, but I guess I just didn’t know how prominent they were in Italy. But he did, his family did.”

You opened your eyes, Theo frowning at the gloss over them, knowing tears were about to come and he had no power to stop them, “I lied when I was healing Enzo.” Theo’s head titled in confusion, his mouth opening to ask what you meant but you continued too quickly, “I didn’t get practice in removing dark spells from the war. Nearly anyone hit with that kind of magic during that died instantly and I was too shell shocked from my own parents death I barely healed anyone that day.”

Taking a deep breath, you let it all flow out of you, “He used me Theo. D-Damiano and his family. He enticed me that first month, making me feel like he was falling for me, I was certainly falling for him…so stupid,” you chasiszed yourself, “I was the healer for their family. They kept me in the house, I was essentially on their beck and call twenty four seven. I don’t know exactly what they were doing but they would come back with deep, horrific wounds, edges caked in black, dark magic. Just like Enzo’s. That’s how…”

“That’s how you knew what it was, how to handle it,” Theo finished for you. You nodded, “I couldn’t mess up, not ever. Godric, Damiano would beat me if I did. Grant it he kind of beat me anyway. I tried to leave once, tried to tell them I was done. That was the first time Damiano really beat me. Took me two weeks to fully heal myself.” The tears were falling freely now as you bore your soul to Theo, “What Mattheo saw was near the end, when I kept getting fed up and finally started speaking up for myself. That’s what the dreams are, what you woke me up from before.”

Theo looked at you, his own ocean eyes glossing over hearing your story, “You’re safe now, you know that right?” You nodded, resting your forehead on his shoulder. Theo rubbed up and down your back, not wanting to disturb your moment of peace for a while. After a few beats, he pushed you up by your shoulders, “C’mon, uncellina, let go back. Boss should be back soon, I’m sure you wanna freshen up for him.” He gave you a playful wink before you slapped his chest, “Teddy! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on. He’s my boss too, you know.”

You stood up with Theo, hooking your elbow in his as you both began to walk back towards the manor. “All I’m saying is Mattheo has never looked at any of us the way he looks at you. I’ve never had to watch over someone while he’s been gone before either.” You shook your head, letting out a laugh, “Well I hate to break it to you, Theo, but I think I just have a nicer ass than you, that’s probably the difference. And as for watching over me, he’s probably just still being protective since that one night with that fucking slime ball, Monti.”

Theo tensed slightly at the mention of that night, “Don’t remind me. And don’t mock my ass, darling. I get plenty of my own compliments from many a ladies, thank you very much.” You threw your head back in laughter and Theo smiled at you enjoying yourself. As you approached the back doors to the manor, they swung open on their own. Theo led you all the way to the stairwell. You took two steps up before turning back, grabbing hold of this shoulder. At this angle you were nearly the same height as him. You leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Thanks for listening this week, Theo. I really needed it.”

Theo smiled at you, “Anytime, sorella,” he tapped his temple, “Just give me a shout and I’ll be there for you.” You nodded before turning around and heading up the stairs to your room. Once inside you went to your top drawer of your dresser, digging deep into the bottom. You may have fibbed a little to Theo when stating there was nothing between you and Mattheo.

Honestly you didn’t know what was happening between you and Mattheo but his words still rang in your ear, crystal clear if you concentrated too hard on them. “I own you.” Merlin, you wanted to know what he meant, and to what extent. You rummaged through your drawer, picking out a black set. You were going to find out just how far Mattheo would let you go, and just how much control he’d let you have.

As you threw on your robe, folding and tying the strings around your waist you heard a pop behind you. This time it didn’t phase you, you fully expected who it was. You turned to see Mattheo standing at the foot of your bed, white dress shirt slightly splattered with a painting of red. He saw your eyes roam his face, taking in the small cut on his cheekbone before taking in the rest of his appearance.

“Bloods not mine,” Mattheo started walking toward you but stopped when you held up your hand. “Take it off,” you words were sharp, precise. Mattheo tilted his head down slightly, smirk adorning his face. You repeat yourself with more instruction, “Take off the shirt, keep on the trousers, sit in the chair.”

You watched at Mattheo slowly raised his hands, starting at the top button of his shirt. Your eyes were glued to his fingers pulling and pushing the buttons from each hole, the veins in his hands and forearms prominent with the movement. He slowly slid the shirt off his shoulders and down his strong biceps once the last button was undone. You bit the inside of your cheek as you drank in his strong chest and the array of scars littered there and down the ridges of his abdomen.

Once he was free of his shirt he followed your instructions, walking over to the chair in the corner of the room. He eased himself down, a hand on each of the armrests. Once he was fully seated he spread his legs open, pushing his crotch up slightly as he did so. You sauntered over to him, eyes raking over his body once more and Mattheo sat in anticipation.

“I just thought I should show you some appreciation,” you twirled your wand, a slow and seductive song now playing lowly in the room. Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up slightly, “Appreciation?” You nodded, dragging your fingers up your thighs, your silk robe pulling up slightly, giving Mattheo a peak of the thick of your thighs. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, but you noticed, and it only encouraged you further.

Your hands came up to the bow you had tied early, Mattheo found it fitting, wrapped up like a present just for him. You placed a hand on each arm rest, leaning close to whisper in his ear, “If I’m going to be a slut, it can only be for you, right boss?” His jaw clenched again, a low growl emitting from his throat. “So let me show you just how good of a slut I can be for you.” Mattheo’s only response was a grunt, his hands flying up to untie your robe. Your hands were quicker, grabbing hold of his wrists and halting his movements, “Ah, ah, no touching until I say so, can you handle that, boss?”

Mattheo’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “Usually I’m the one giving instructions.” You mirrored his smirk, “Well let’s see how good you are at listening, then maybe you’ll get a reward.” You stood up slowly, allowing him a view down the front of your robe before you stood up fully. You swayed your hips back and forth as your hands came to the knot at the front of your waist. You pulled at the drawstring slowly, Mattheo’s eyes intensely watching every movement your hands made.

As the knot became undone you turned your back to Mattheo, relishing in the low growl that left his lips as you opened your robe yet still denied him visual access to what he wanted. You let the silk slide down your shoulders, revealing the black straps along your shoulders and across your back. You let the robe fall down to the floor, giving Mattheo a full view of the lace that barely covered your arse. You placed a hand on each arm rest, swiveling your hips just over his crotch, hovering just where you knew he’d like you, but not giving it to him fully.

“You’re playing with fire, Princess,” it was a warning, one that you chose to ignore. Instead you turned around, settling a knee on either side of his strong thighs, now straddling his lap. Mattheo’s eyes ravaged the front of your outfit, how the lace delicately hugged your breasts, the intricate design of the straps crossing over your ribs. His hands were fists on the arm rests, making you only smile more at his torture. “What’s wrong, Teo? Having trouble controlling yourself?”

He let out a huff of air through his nose, not trusting his voice in this moment. Your slowly trailed your hands up your sides, tracing the criss cross pattern of lace across your ribcage before cupping your breasts, giving them a light and playful squeeze as your threw your head back, sinking slightly lower on his lap, but not quite making contact with him.

Your hands ran up your chest, into your hair as you pressed your body closer to his, sitting up on your knees and allowing your chest to be at his eye level. You could feel his breath fan over your collarbones in short bursts, a sign that he was losing his patience. You sat back on his thighs, painting on the most innocent face you could muster.

You let your hands roam his bare chest, fingers dancing over scars before lacing them behind his neck. You toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. What you did next Mattheo wasn’t expecting, especially not from you. Flattening your tongue, you licked along the cut on his cheekbone, cleaning the blood from his cheek. You felt Mattheo’s thighs stiffen beneath you and the excitement you got from this reaction only spurred you further.

The copper metallic taste was new on your tastebuds, Mattheo’s eyes flying open the moment you grabbed hold of his chin, sticking out your tongue to display the scarlet red painted across it. In that moment his eyes flashed darker than you’d ever seen. You brought your tongue back into your mouth, then brought your lips to his. You were soft at first, nearly ghosting your lips across his before grinding your hips down. You could feel his hardness against your barely clothed core, the roughness of his trousers providing the perfect amount of friction on your swollen clit.

You could feel him tense more with every roll of your hips, lips never quite touching his again, lips feather light over the skin of his cheek, along his jaw. You nipped at his ear, teasing him further now, “You’re being such a good boy for me, fuck, letting me use you like this.” You rolled your hips again, feeling his hardness strain against his trousers and seeing his jaw clench made you feel powerful and you were getting drunk on the feeling. You knew the next sentence was pushing it a little too far, you knew he’d likely snap from it, but it was exactly what you wanted to happen. A low moan left your lips as you dragged your pussy along his length before you whispered in his ear, “Who owns who now?”

A growl and a low, “Fuck this,” was all that left Mattheo’s mouth before his hands roughly grabbed hold of your arse, his lips attaching themselves to your neck as he began harshly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You gasped, clutching onto his shoulders as he stood up, walking you both over towards the bed before throwing you down. You bounced against the mattress, sitting up on your elbows as Mattheo stood at the edge of the bed.

Your eyes watched as Mattheo’s fingers slowly undid the buttons of his trousers, teasingly sliding down his zipper as he spoke, “Seems like I wasn’t clear enough the last time.” He slid his pants down until they pooled at his feet. He ran his thumb along the waistband of his briefs, “But I promise you Princess,” he pushed his briefs down his legs, his length slapping the underside of his stomach, the head of his dick red and leaking, “after tonight you are never going to forget who you belong to.”

He kneeled on the bed, tracing his fingertips along the outsides of your calves, slowly trailing up to your thighs where he began kneading the flesh. His hands roamed towards the inside of your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin in his wake. He slowly pushed your legs open wider, gripping the underside of your knees and yanking your body towards him.

Hooking your knees over his elbows he leaned down to capture your lips in his, a moan leaving his lips and he rutted his hips into yours. You could feel his length slide along your folds, the tip of his dick catching your clit and making you gasp. Mattheo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, exploring and deepening the kiss as he slid one of his hands between your bodies.

You were so encaptured by his mouth that the feeling of his two fingers slipping inside your hole caught you off guard, your breath leaving your lungs as he curled his fingers, hitting deep inside you and making your legs twitch. “So fucking tight, Princess, not sure if I’m gonna fit,” he moaning against your neck, nipping and bitting your skin, sure to leave a trail of bruises for the others to see.

“Merlin, I’m going to wreck this tight little cunt,” Mattheo’s lips trailed down your neck, over the swells of your breast before he took his other hand to rip down your top. Mattheo wrapped his lips around one of your taut nipples, one hand palming and massaging the other as his fingers continued to work your cunt, scissoring and pumping inside you to open you up.

You felt the familiar build up in your stomach, heat pooling at your core as Mattheo continued his ministrations. “Please, Teo, fuck-” His thumb swiped over your clit, a smirk pulling at his lips, “Yeah, you like that Princess? C’mon, give me one before I fill this cunt. Show me how much of a slut you are, just f’me, just like ya said.”

His fingers continued their assault, thumb circling your clit in perfect rhythm. His words were the last encouragement you needed before you were falling over the edge, hand grasping his forearm and nails digging into his skin as you saw white. Mattheo continued to pump his fingers into you as you rode of your high, hips bucking into his palm as you became sensitive.

He slid his fingers from you slowly, a whimper leaving your lips at the empty feeling he left. He brought his fingers up to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. You sucked his fingers eagerly, holding eye contact as you swirled your tongue around his digits. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, capturing your lips with his as he slid your panties down your legs and tossing them aside.

He rut his hips against yours again, his cock easily sliding through your slick folds from your previous orgasm. He sat back on his hunches, grabbing hold of your knees and keeping your legs spread wide. He bucked his hips slightly, teasingly knocking his length against your clit sloppily just to earn pathetic whimpers and begging from your lips.

Lining himself up, he teased you further, pressing just the head of his cock inside your hole. You whined, trying to buck your hips and feel more of him. “Patience, Princess,” Mattheo growled before pressing your knees to your chest and sinking fully into you.

You moaned in unison, Mattheo stilling momentarily to allow you to adjust to his size. He filled you completely, more than anyone before him. You could feel all of him, his length, his thickness, every vein against your walls. He pulled back slightly before slamming his hips back to yours, “Oh, fuck, Matty.” You could feel his cock pulsing inside you as he repeated the motion, pulling out father and slamming into you harder each time.

Mattheo placed a hand on your lower stomach, applying pressure as he continues to rut his hips into yours. The new sensation had your eyes rolling, but Mattheo didn’t like that, his free hand now gripping your throat at the sides, “Eyes on me, Princess. I wanna see you fall apart all over this cock.” You comply, struggling with hooded eyes as his hips pound into you. Snap into you harder. Faster. Your jaw slacks and it’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

Your hips meet his thrusts, chasing your second high. His stubble catching your clit at just the right angle as your hips meet. You’re practically drooling as Mattheo babbles praises against your skin, telling you how well your taking him, how pretty your pussy looks filled with him and each word tightens the coil in your stomach as you’re chanting his name. Your nails rake down his back as he hits that particular spot deep inside and your walls clench around him like a vice.

His moans are deep as he grabs hold of your leg, hiking it over his shoulder. The new angle sending you over the edge, babbling his name as you release all over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, continuing to pound into you, chasing his own high. Your chest is heaving, rising up and down as you try to catch your breath to no avail as Mattheo doesn’t slow down.

“You can take it Princess-fuck-bloody hell you feel so good-you’ve got one more in you, know you can do it for me,” he growls, pulling your hips to his. He captures your lips with his own as your fingers dig into his shoulders. You can feel his hips stuttering, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as he chases his own high. His thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles as me mumbled against your lips, “Who owns you, huh, Princess? Who owns you and this tight fucking pussy? -Gods- Who is it?”

Your thoughts were a white hot blindness of bliss, head shaking back and forth as you were unable to form words. Mattheo slapped the outside of your thigh, “Answer me, slut, who owns you?” You moaned at the lewdness of it all, stuttering dumb over the pleasure, “Y-you, Mattheo, you own me. Fuck-I b-belong to you.”

“Good fucking girl.” With a few more swirls of his thumb your legs were quaking as you cried out his name, cumming hard before you felt Mattheo spill his seed deep inside your walls. His hips still, chest rising and falling with panting breaths before slowly pulling out of you. He leaned back on his heels, watching as the mix of both your juices seeped from your hole.

Mattheo swiped his fingers through your folds, gathering the mixture before pumping his fingers back into you a few times. Your body jerked at the motion, Mattheo only laughing before pulling his fingers back out and pushing them past your lips, “Taste that Princess? That’s what I do to you.” You moaned around his fingers, making obscene noises as you sucked them clean. “Mmm, you really were a slut for me, Princess,” he kissed sloppily along your neck, “next time I’m gonna taste you.” You moaned at the thought, wishing you weren’t so sensitive so he could cash in that promise right now.

You watched with half hooded eyes as Mattheo climbed down from the bed, digging in to his discarded trousers. He grabbed his wand, waving it quickly over both of you and cleaning you up. You pouted slightly, having quite enjoyed the feeling of both your messes on you. You half expected Mattheo to leave as it seemed he was headed toward the door. Instead he opened one of your draws, grabbing shorts and a shirt and tossing them on the bed in front of you before pulling his own briefs back on.

Pulling back the covers, you nestled into the bed, Mattheo climbing back in and pulling you close to his chest. You intertwined your legs with his, relishing in his body heat. Your head rested against his chest as his fingers danced over your shoulder and up and down your arm. Your eyes were heavy, lids falling shut as the rise and fall of his chest gave you calmness.

Mattheo pressed his lips to the crown of your head, words tumbling from his mouth in a whisper, “You’re so important to me, Birdie. One day I’ll tell you how much.” You heard his words, ever so faintly. Not being able to fully register them before the chasms of sleep overtook you.

#hope it was worth the wait 😬😬 #protego series #mafia!slytherin boys #mafia!mattheo riddle #mafia!theo nott #Mattheo riddle x you #Mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle smut

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Moment Of Everything

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You and Peter have never gotten along, but can two nights in Florence change things for good?

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, angst. Mentions of blood and wounds. I was watching The Proposal last night and got inspired. Enemies to Lovers. See this for whichever Spider-Man you wish. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You knew things had to change eventually. 

Yourself and Peter couldn’t go your whole lives hating one another. 

You just didn’t expect it to change quite so much. 

It had all started one night when you were on a mission with each other. 

Two days in Florence, Italy. You were both sent to monitor a suspect. And, like usual, Peter was off with you. He didn’t seem too happy about having to share a bed at the hotel. And, even though he didn’t particularly like talking to you, he would still do it. Only, that night, he didn’t. 

When he didn’t have to talk to you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at you. 

So, the night before you were expected to fly back home, you called him out on it. 

He didn’t listen to you. He simply walked away from you. He followed the guy and you had to go with his plan. Whatever his plan was, you had to guess. 

Only, the suspect got away. 

“We’ll find him again.”

Peter just grunted. 

“Peter.”

Nothing. 

“Peter!”

Again, nothing.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Peter!” He finally slowed down and looked at you. “What the hell is your fucking problem?! I get you don’t like me, but we’re meant to be together in this!”

“We are together in this.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Bull-shit. You have done nothing but ignore me this entire trip. If you have a problem with me, you can just say it. Where are you going now? Or am I not allowed to know that either.”

“Back to the hotel. Not like you’d tell me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You tried running to catch up with him. 

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead. Tell me.”

Soon enough you both made it back to the hotel and inside the room before the conversation continued. 

“Tell me, Peter. I can take it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know me-”

“You’re right! I don’t!” Peter turned around and looked at you, forcing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I don’t know you! I don’t know anything about you! Because you don’t share anything.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my life a little private.”

“A little?!” Peter raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “A little private is not telling your co-workers where you're going when you say you’re going on holiday. A little private is not showing them a thousand pictures of your new puppy. Your life is anything but a little private.”

Clearly, he had more to say so you waited. And you didn’t have to wait long. 

Sighing, Peter rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking back at you. 

“I have known you for almost ten years and you have told me less than three things about yourself. And yet, an hour before we leave to come here, Hank from the Biology lab does…what? Flirts with you for five minutes, tells you his coffee order and you’re practically marrying the guy!”

“Peter, that’s none- Is this what has been bothering you since we left? This?! Just because I decided to talk to a guy and tell him about my day…why does it bother you so much that I don’t talk about myself?”

“Because I am meant to be your teammate. You have known me for almost ten years and never once have I hid anything from you. We are meant to trust one another. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me or if I didn’t like you, what matters is that you trust me, and that I trust you. This partnership is meant to go both ways.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just kept looking at Peter. It looked like the world had been lifted off his shoulders whilst he also started beating himself up over what he just said. His chest was heaving and for a moment, you thought he was gonna walk towards you but instead, he took a step back. 

“I’m going for a shower.”

When the door closed behind him, it took you a moment to gather yourself. 

You couldn’t deny that he had a point. Maybe you hadn’t told him as much as you could have done, especially for being teammates for almost a full decade. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have his faults in it, too. 

Maybe instead of ignoring you and only talking to you when he needed to, you might have warmed to him more rather than seen him as a stand-offish person who you would trust to save your life, but wouldn’t trust to put it on the edge first. 

After twenty minutes, Peter emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed, clothed and ready for bed. He put away his dirty clothes and put his wash bag back in his bag before climbing under the covers that lay at the bottom of the bed. 

He hadn’t said anything when you both arrived at the hotel late at night. Just took some sheets out of the cupboard and put them on the floor. When you entered the room, you said he was being ridiculous.

He just said the bed was too soft for him and that he wouldn’t sleep. 

After an hour of back and forth over you telling him just to get into the bed, since it was big enough for a family of five, never mind two, he still decided to stay on the floor. 

As you lay in bed, listening to the distant noises of the city, you tossed and turned before settling on your back. But you still couldn’t sleep. 

Then you heard Peter. 

He was tossing and turning, too. 

Eventually, you heard him sigh in annoyance of sleep not taking over him. 

So, wrestling with your own mind, you spoke up. 

“I like Greek Mythology.”

A few seconds passed and then; “What?”

You faltered for a moment before speaking up again. 

“I-I like Greek Mythology. I always have.” you said before explaining, taking your time. “When I was five, my grandmother gave me some of her old books. In the pile was a kids illustrated version of Greek Gods and Goddesses. I was obsessed. And I mean, obsessed.” 

You laughed a little as you explained your obsession with Greek Mythology to him. Meanwhile, from the floor and out of sight from you, he smiled. He couldn’t even think of when he’d heard a smile in your voice. Never mind a laugh. 

It was once of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. 

“For three halloween’s in a row, I went as a different Goddess.”

You fell silent for a moment in the memory before you started to speak again. 

“I hate coffee. I try it once every year and it’s always the same. Absolutely disgusting.” you chuckled a little. “I spent every summer away from home at Camp where I ran a book club. I watch Rom-Coms when I’m sad because they make me feel better. My favourite flowers are blue tulips. I don’t watch thrillers because they remind me too much of work. And, I haven’t told anyone this much…ever.”

Only as you finished did you realise how much you had told him. And you felt a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach as Peter remained silent. 

“Are you still there?”

Peter swallowed thickly and nodded his head, despite the fact you couldn’t see him. “Y-yeah. I’m here. Just…processing.”

“Okay.”

That conversation had been just over eight months before you got a knock at your apartment window one evening. 

You had taken a couple weeks off work since you hadn’t taken any vacation days…ever. Barton had practically banned you from the building for two weeks. 

The rain had been pouring over the city and, with all your work finished, you had rushed out and got some supplies before sitting in front of your TV, watching one of the many rom-coms your DVD collection provided before pulling a few books from your shelves and reading through them. 

At some point, you had fallen asleep, still fully dressed, under your blankets, listening to the quiet silence of your apartment as the rain hit the windows outside. 

Only, rather than continuing to sleep throughout the night, you heard a continuous tapping. 

So, leaning up with tired eyes, you looked around. The loose braid you had stuck your hair in had fallen out, your bobble being lost between the cushions somewhere.

The apartment was shrouded in darkness, save for the street lights outside still lighting small sections of your apartment.

Along came more tapping until finally you turned towards the sash window that lay by the fire escape. 

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw him through tired eyes. 

Making your way over, you pushed the window open and Peter made his way inside. 

“Sorry for waking you.”

You just grumbled and closed the window to stop the rain from flying in, though it didn’t stop the small puddle made by Peter who was practically soaked to the bone from the rain. 

“Ah, so this is who I lost you to.” Peter said with a slight smirk as he spotted one of your Mythology books. 

“Barton said I was banished from HQ until my vacation days were finished. What are you doing here at this time of night? What even is the time?”

“I didn’t know where to go, and you’re the only one who I trust to do the job well.”

“What job?”

Finally looking at Peter, you saw it. 

His body, and his clothes, were splattered with blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was his and how much of it could be somebody else's. 

“You didn’t kill anyone did you?”

“No.” Peter answered. “They’re alright, just at the police station getting booked.”

You sighed as you took in even more of his wounds. “Alright. Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes. Give me your jacket.”

Peter removed it and you took it from him, including his grey hoodie. 

“Bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the right.”

Peter nodded and walked down whilst you headed into the kitchen and shoved his jackets into the washing machine and pressed start. Then, from the top cupboard, you pulled down your first-aid kit that contained everything from princess plasters, from when you had been looking after your neighbour's kid for two days, to a stitching kit.

Twenty minutes later, you had a basin full of warm, blood stained water, a once-clean face cloth covered in stains of blood and a grown Avenger sat on the edge of your bathtub, wincing every now and again and you cleaned him up. 

“Remind me again why you came to me?”

You turned Peter’s head to face over your right shoulder as you cleaned a graze and cut just above his eyebrow. 

“Because I trust you. And I didn’t feel like getting another lecture from Laura.”

“Ah,” you nodded and Peter laughed a little. 

Then he hissed. 

“Sorry, I'm almost finished with this one.”

“It’s okay.” Peter flicked his gaze to you a couple of times. “T-thank you for doing this.”

“What else would I have done? Kicked you back out of the window?”

“You could have done it. I did wake you up. Clearly I didn't learn my lesson from the first time.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did nearly beat you up.”

What Peter meant was just over two months ago. You had both become friends of sorts. But, you had fallen asleep at your lab desk one night and Peter came in to wake you up and you nearly cursed him out so much that you even had him convinced he was an intruder trying to break into your home. 

“But, if you hadn’t come to me, I probably would have cursed you out when I found out, anyway.”

“Found out?”

“You can’t hide anything from me, Peter. I know everything,” you joked. 

“But do you?”

Peter’s question slipped from his tongue before he could stop himself, but you didn’t know what to do. So, your eyes turned from his and you tried your best to remain calm until you saw a large spot of blood coming through his black t-shirt. 

You tried your best to get to the wound that was beneath it without him removing his shirt, but you both knew it was no use. 

So, awkwardly asking him, he stood and you looked to him only to find him looking back. 

Slowly, he removed his shirt, trying his best not to stain the rest of his body from the blood you had just cleaned away and for a moment, you were met with his body in front of you. 

Most of the blood was coming from that one wound but the top of his arms now showed a little bruising, as well as his torso, though it was more healed than you thought it would have been. 

Finding yourself staring for a little too long, you forced your gaze back to his face where he’d removed the shirt from over his head and lowered himself back down onto the edge of the tub, opening up his legs for you to stand between them once more. 

Though, it was in that moment that you realised how close you had been standing to him this entire time. 

“Th-This might sting a little.”

Peter nodded and you watched as he clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the grunt that tried to escape from him as you cleaned out the wound. 

“You might need some stitches.” you mentioned. “I can do them here, though they might not be Laura standard.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

You nodded and tried your best to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you as you looked for your stitching kit and began working. 

In your peripheral vision, you could see some of his bruises already starting to heal, though some might take more than a couple hours.

Even with his adapted DNA. 

“If you want, you can stay here for the night. I have a spare set of pyjamas if you need them.”

“You sure they’ll be my size?”

You laughed a little. “My, uh, my neighbour gave them to me. She bought a set for her husband but when they came they were too big for him. She told me to keep them in case I ever had someone…stay the night. They might be too big for you, too but they have a drawstring so…”

“Okay.”

You looked at him for a split second and then looked back to his wound with a small nod. 

Soon enough you finished and stepped back to grab the face cloth before dipping it into a fresh basin of warm water to clean off the rest of his wounds that would heal soon enough. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

As you looked at Peter when he stood, there was a moment of…everything. 

Neither of you were moving, yet his eyes and your own spoke a thousand unspoken words between their gazes. 

Without thinking, Peter lifted his hand to meet your own, allowing you to place the cloth down before he pulled you a little closer. 

Your name left his lips in a small whisper, a plea, a wish of permission.

You felt yourself stand a little taller as his other hand came to your face, brushing the loose hair from your face, behind your ear. 

His eyes continued to flick from your eyes to your lips, as yours did the same with him. 

There was time for you to stop. For you to say no. And if you did, he would have stepped away and, most likely, would have apologised and left. 

But you didn’t want that. 

Each tantalising moment that passed, you wished for time to hurry up. For his lips to finally meet yours. 

And once they did, there was no turning back. 

At first it was soft, until you both became hungry for more. 

Leaning in, your hands came to his neck to pull him closer to you. 

Eventually, the kiss broke apart for a moment, your heads resting together, your eyes partly closed. 

“Was that-”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Peter chuckled a little before feeling your lips connect to his, allowing his hands to pull your body flush against his.

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #marvel x reader #peter parker x fe!reader #fluff #angst #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #tom holland! peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #toby maguire spiderman #mcu #clint barton #shield #agents #co-workers #forced proximity #he fell first #greek mythology #the proposal #falling in love

[xtrafluffyteddy]

The boss

Body guard! Ghost x Mafia boss! Fem! reader

A little self indulgent buttttt

Tw: violence, guns, alcohol, blood, sexism (quickly resolved)

Your name was feared around town, no one really knew what you looked like but they heard fearsome tales of a mafia boss who left people who wronged them so busted and broken that even dental records couldn’t tell you who they were before they crossed you, as well as the mafia bosses guard dog who would rip people to shreds just for starting rumors, and you loved it that way it made you feel powerful, untouchable.

“Love” Simon says as he strides into your room holding a new file and your favorite tea “new client comin in today he’ll be here in 20” he leans down to give you a soft kiss through his mask that he kept on during business hours, his face was only for your viewing pleasure no one else’s. “Mmm that you my darling stay with me won’t you?” You look up at him grinning “wouldn’t dream of leavin your side” he grunts.

The man, your client, came in 20 minutes late already getting himself on your shit list, “hey baby where’s the boss I gotta talk to him” the man says as he makes himself comfortable on your pristine black leather couch putting his disgusting feet up on your glass table “and uh get me a whiskey while your at it” you couldn’t help but grit your teeth catching Simon who gave you a look that screamed ‘let me kill this motherfucker’ with a quick wave of your hand you get up putting on a sickly sweet smile “of course sir anything else I can get for you sir”, Simon fought back the urge to tear this man apart for disrespecting you.

When you came back into the room you hand the man the shittiest whiskey you had in house after spitting in it when he wasn’t looking “thanks doll face” he said before slapping your ass as you walked back to Simon causing you to grit your teeth again. “Let me kill ‘em love” Simon whispers in your ear as he glares at the man “not yet darlin but soon” you turn back to the man with a fake smile “can you hurry it up bitch I got more important things to do” the man snarled getting fed up with how long it’s taking “of course of course” you sit down crossing one leg over the other picking up his file.

Reading over his file you were less that impressed a couple of petty crimes and a few drug runs nothing special in your eyes “hey big guy call your fucking boss already since this broad apparently doesn’t know how to fucking listen” your eye twitches as the man puts his cigarette out on your couch. Simon gives you a look and you nod grinning as he picks up his phone and presses call on your number. The look on the man’s face was priceless as your phone rang you relished in the way the color drained from his face and he immediately sat up straight “I-I-I-I” he stuttered “you- you- you- you what” you snarled “didn’t mean to disrespect me? Didn’t mean to come into my office make a mess of my shit? Oh sweetheart we’re way past piss poor apologies” he began shaking his head quickly getting up to come towards you only to be stopped by Simon who puts his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him back down onto the couch “sit down.” Simon growls before looking back at you “what do ya want me to do to him ma’am” you suck your teeth before sighing “maybe I’ll feed you to my dogs, orrrr maybe I’ll cut out your tongue for calling me a bitch, or I’ll let Ghost torture you nice and slow and send pieces of you back to the shit hole you crawled out of” you hum like your thinking “I think I’ll leave that a surprise wouldn’t wanna ruin the fun would we”

The mans body was found 5 blocks from your hideout, the police couldn’t believe the amount of damage that was inflicted. He was missing his eyes, his fingernails, his teeth seemed to have been pulled out one by one and shoved down his throat, and his tongue cut out and found right next to him with the word bitch carved into it.

“Si” you sigh stretching as you look over at the man who was washing the blood off his hands “yes my love” he replies turning his full attention towards you “I’m thinking Chinese tonight? Or maybe Italian” to others your lack of remorse for the carnage you left was terrifying, sickening even, but to Simon he couldn’t help but stare at you heart racing as he fell more in love with you.

#ghost #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2

[concentrateandpush]

We have a tradition.. in our group of friends. Every birthday we have a sleepover, we’ve done this since we were 4, that won’t change, the three of us get along too well. We’ve always told each other secrets, funny stories, our crushes, but there is one secret I’ve kept from my friends.

It’s late, 1AM but we usually try to stay up as late as possible. Carly’s Mom is at work and her dad passed away when she was little. Eloise is a little tipsy, as usual, seeing as Carly’s Mom has a cupboard of Malibu and vodka. I was tempted not to come, I’ve been cramping all day but I know how mad they would be, plus with the snow, what else is a 9 months pregnant single girl going to do on a Saturday.

I didn’t want to tell them that I’m pregnant because they’d talk about how Steve is a bad influence and how I was a virgin until I met him, how he stole me away for one sleepover last year, they’re right but I don’t need it. I just thought keeping it to myself would be a good idea, until now. “I.. I just need to use the bathroom” I mutter under my breath as I get up and run off.

Fumbling for my phone, I text Mom “I’m at Carly’s, come get me” but the service is down.

The pain is building, kind of like a period pain but in my back and my stomach. I find myself rubbing my belly fast and hard as if it’ll help, but I can’t get it to stop.

“Hey, Carly? You okay?” Sarah asks as she knocks the door, Sarah is Carly’s older sister. “Carly??” She asks again. “Uh.. it’s Lena” I admit, trying to control my breathing.

“Oh, Lena, are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath?” She asks and I quickly get myself together before opening the door. “Sorry” I say quietly. She heads in and I hear her making noises “Lena, did you pee on the floor?” She asks, disgusted and I freeze, realising my waters broke. “I-I’m sorry I can clean it up” I say before heading in and grabbing some paper, kneeling to wipe it. I let out a small groan as I feel a twinge in my left lower abdomen.

“Lena, are you okay?” She asks and I nod “f-fine” as I wipe up. “Lena, I’ve known you since you were practically a baby and something is up” she probes and I shake my head, wishing for the pain to not come as hard as I know it will. I find my hand gripping the toilet seat as I start to contract. “P-please don’t tell them” I mumble, taking deep slow breaths.

“Tell them what?” She asks, lowering herself to me, looking at my face and down to my belly. “I..” I start and she shakes her head “Lena.. you’re not? You’re fucking pregnant?” She exclaims. “I knew you’d gotten chunkier but.. oh sweetheart, you’re-“ she stops and realised “you’re not in labour? Right?” She asks and I plead for help with my eyes.

“Shit, okay.. right” she nods “Lena..” she sighs “what are we going to do with you..” she says softly before taking me into her arms. I lean in and just let her hold me before it gets worse and I start involuntarily panting, gripping her shirt. “Okay, okay Lena, I need you to sit back for me” she says calmly and I shake my head “I’m scared, it hurts, it’s coming” I mutter.

“Right, I know you don’t want them to know but they will, you’re not going to push a baby out quietly and you need comfort, we’re going to get you into the living room and onto the couch” she sighs and I just agree, I need to get it out. “Carly! Eloise?!” She shouts and they come in, seeing the room and cluelessly staring.

“Okay, Lena is in labour, which I know is a big shock for you both, but we need to help her deliver this baby” she explains “can you girls help me bring her to the couch?” She asks and they just do as she says, helping me up. Once I’m on my knees, I get another contraction, one much worse than the last and it doubles me over. “Nnggg” I grunt to myself, clutching my well hidden bump.

“Lena is this a joke?” Carly asks and I just shake my head, blowing breath into the air as I spread my legs under me “pressure” I mumble, looking to Sarah “so much pressure” I cry. “Couch” Sarah demands. Before I know it, they’re carrying me in and getting me on the couch which has been turned into a bed for the night.

“How did you hide this?!” Eloise asks and I just shake my head, gripping my leg and pulling it back, clothes still on. “Wait, wait a minute” Sarah says panicked as she can see I’m about to push with all my mite. “I can’t!” I cry out as I start to bear down in my pants, grunting and shaking like a leaf. “Lena!” She shouts and I stop, reaching down to hold myself, letting her strip me naked.

The second her eyes see my opening, they widen and I see the fear. “That’s a head” Carly says, shocked and Eloise gazes “that’s a head!?” She asks and Carly nods “look, the pink thing inside, a head” she says confidently and I just start to sob. “You were right about Steve, he wanted me to get rid of it but I just couldn’t” I cry. “Okay, okay, we understand, Lena, we do” Carly sighs as she comes next to me, wiping my forehead.

“It’s coming” I grunt as I grip my thigh, ready to experience this whole situation. “Okay, deep breath and push” Sarah tells me and I nod, pulling my chin to my chest as I just scream the baby down. I feel every single centimetre of the head coming down, ripping me, tearing me open. “More” she says quickly and I shake my head, letting go of my legs as I try to catch my breath.

“I can’t do this.. I can’t do it” I cry, rubbing my bump in small circles. “You have no choice Lena, the roads are covered and you have a baby coming out of you, you have to do this, you need to push it out” Sarah says sternly. “You’re so strong, Lena.. your body is meant to do this and you can absolutely push your baby out, just push” Eloise smiles reassuringly and I sigh, already exhausted.

I gulp a deep breath down and try to grab my thighs, pulling my legs up until Eloise grabs one and Carly the other “Push your baby out!” Carly smiles and I try, so fucking hard, to no avail. I’m sweating, I’m crying and my whole body is throbbing but I just can’t get it out.

“Why can’t I do it?!” I wail and Sarah sighs “patience.. you’re getting there” she smiles and I just look to the girls, my eyes begging them to keep my legs up “here it comes” I whisper softly as I start to lean into it. “Gaahhh!” I cry, pushing as hard as I can for as long as my body will allow. “Give.. birth!” I cry out, reaching down and pulling myself open.

“It’s not working” Sarah explains as I hopelessly reach for my Stanley for a sip of water. “I need you to stand..” she sighs and I nod, getting up and standing, opening my legs to make room for baby to come out. “So you’re going to squat a little with the push” she says and I nod, grabbing onto Carly as I swing my hips. “Come on baby, please let me push you out.. it’s just pushing it’s not that hard, I can get you out, I will push you out” I whisper as I pep talk myself.

“Heee heee, hoo hoo, heee heee, hoo HOO” I breathe as I start to feel it coming. My legs part naturally as I begin my pushing attempt, holding onto Carly as I feel my vagina spread. “It’s working!” Eloise smiles and I nod, reaching down to feel my baby’s head.

“Holy fuck!” I cry as I feel burning “fuck, fuck, fuck!” I mutter. “You’re crowning!” Sarah smiles and I just find myself going to my hands and knees, moaning like a cow. “That’s it, vocalise all you want” she smiles as Eloise rubs my back. “Please, please get it out” I moan, shaking as I try to hold myself up.

“Lena, it’s time to push” Carly tells me as I find myself almost falling asleep, exhausted from all the work I’ve put in so far. I just bear down, trying to push through the pain. The noises I’m making are animalistic and in all honesty I’m embarrassed. “Focus, Lena” Sarah demands and I nod, trying to find words to say I need to move.

I fall into a position on my side, holding my leg up and pushing for around an hour, it’s unbearable. Until finally, “the head! It’s here, the head is out” Eloise exclaims. “Push! Push!!” Sarah screams and I do exactly that, groaning, grunting and sweating as I feel my baby escape my body and come into the world.

#childbirth #giving birth #maiesiophilia #pregnancy #birth

[topguncortez]

Hands to Yourself

Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist

synopsis: Goose's love language is physical touch, and sometimes he can get a bit handsy

prompt: “we’re in public you know”

warnings: public display of affection, fingering, public sex (kinda), allusion to smut.

word count: 1.3k

It was no surprise that Goose’s love language was physical touch. He was a very hands-on type of person. He liked building things, working on puzzles, drawing, holding your hand whenever you’re out at the O Club. He was always having to touch you, a hand on your thigh, or an arm around your shoulders, or even having you sit on his lap. His touchiness seemed to get more extensive when he came home from a long deployment or when he was horny. Like tonight. 

Maverick had somehow convinced you to come join Goose, Ice and Slider at the O Club for a drink. You were happy to join in on the festivities, throwing on a red checked sundress and sandals, easily spotting your mustached pilot when you walked into the bar. 

“Great Balls of Fire, look at my girl,” Goose whistled as you walked up to him. You blushed as he took your hand and twirled you around in a circle before bringing you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, as his hand slid down your back, resting on the curve above your ass, “How was your day?” 

“Good. Spent the day finishing up that quilt for Bradley,” You pecked his lips, “How was your day?” 

“Good, better now that you’re here,” Goose gives you that thousand watt smile and pulls you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You feel your cheeks heating up as his hand slips down to your ass, and gives it a squeeze. You jump back from him and he’s got a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Hands to yourself, Mister,” You point at him and he holds his hands up in defense. Even though you both know. . . he won’t keep his hands to himself. 

And you were right. Goose hardly kept his hands to himself, or let you out of his arms reach. He had settled your group into a booth near the back. He sat next to you in the booth, sitting on the outside so he could easily go and get you another drink if you wanted it. He had his arm around you, playing with the ends of your hair as you talked to Charlie about this blanket you were going to make for Viper’s new grandchild. That was one thing that Goose loved about you. Your love language was gift giving and you loved to make gifts for everyone. 

You were deep in your conversation when you started to feel the light brush of fingers up your thigh. You glanced over at Goose, who was looking down at you and gave you a small smile. You shook your head and went back to your conversation with Charlie. It was a couple seconds later that you felt Goose’s hand on your thigh. You sucked in a breath as you tried to listen to Charlie talking about some training plan that she was trying to execute at work. But the feeling of Goose’s fingers swiping against your inner thigh was pulling your attention into other places. Charlie excused herself from the table to go find Maverick, who was shamelessly flirting with another woman across the bar. When she left, you turned and swatted Goose’s chest. 

“Nicholas,” You scolded, “Hands. . .” You grabbed his hand, “To. . .” You picked it up from your thigh, “Yourself,” You placed his hand back in his lap, just by his crotch. Goose had that glint in his eye, that look that he got when he and Maverick were about to do something mischievous. He leaned down and pecked your nose, before placing his hand back on your thigh. 

“I don’t think,” He slid his hand up your thigh, “You want me to do that.” You let out a shaky breath as you tried not to let your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers trailed to the spot that you needed him the most. You were suddenly thankful that Goose decided to sit on the outside of the booth. Damn Goose, and the way he could make you melt with just one look. 

He leaned in, the scent of his cologne clouding your senses as he gently nuzzled against your cheek. You had learned to love the feeling of his mustache against your skin, and threatened to leave him if he even spoke of shaving it. The roughness of his palm sent a shiver down your body as he gripped your thigh, his fingers digging into the skin. 

“Goosey,” You sighed and leaned your head back against the cushion of the booth. 

“Be a good girl for me,” Goose said quietly, his voice getting that delicious rasp to it, “Let me touch you baby.” You bit back a moan as his finger ghosted over the damp spot that had been created in your panties. You nodded, letting Goose get what he wanted. He let out a sigh, and pressed his lips to your temple, “Thank you so much.” 

You audibly moaned at that. That was the thing about Goose, he was always so thankful that you let him touch you. He was always thanking you, before he slipped his fingers into your panties, or before his tongue lapped at your core, or before his penis penetrated your cunt. He would even thank you as he orgasmed, coating your walls with thick white ropes of cum. 

“Shh, gotta be quiet, honey,” Goose whispered, as he ran a finger through your soaked folds, “Jesus, you’re so wet, soaking my fingers. Bet, you’re always like this.” 

You nodded, “It’s the curse of living with you, Bradshaw.” 

“Oh you poor thing,” Goose chuckled, and you let out a sigh as he rubbed your aching clit, “Oh this what you needed, huh?” You nodded again, “I’ll always take care of you, honey, always.” 

“Goose,” You whined as he drew slow, steady circles on your clit. He moved his fingers lower, finding your soaked opening and easily sliding a finger into you. You bucked your hips up at the feeling and Goose looked around quickly to make sure no one saw anything. Everyone was too busy flirting, drinking or smoking to give a damn that he was knuckle deep in your pussy. You leaned your forehead against Goose’s shoulder to hopefully suppress the moans that were threatening to leave your lips. 

“Clenching around my fingers, honey,” Goose muttered, and curled his fingers to touch that spongy spot inside of you, “You close?” 

“Fucking hell, Goose!” You whined, lifting your head, “I. . .Fuck!” You grabbed his hand, and squeezed his wrist, the universal sign for him to stop, “I want you to make me cum, but. . .” You let out a breathy laugh, “We are in public, you know. And I can’t be quiet when I cum, you know that.” 

Goose smirked and pulled his hand from under your dress. He set his warm hand on your thigh and squeezed it, leaning in for a kiss. You kissed him back and gripped the collar of his khaki service uniform in your hands. He pulled back first for air and leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Oh boy do I know how loud you get,” He laughed, “Pretty sure you’ve woken up the whole dorm be-” You slapped his chest playfully and he pulled you to sit on his lap, still laughing. He grabbed your chin and turned your face to look at him. He peppered kisses all around your face; your forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, and then eventually your lips. 

“Take me home, sailor,” You said, putting your arms around his neck. He looked at you, that look of mischief back in his eye.

Somehow he had managed to get up from the booth, with you still in his arms. You let out a squeal and he kissed your lips before finding his way out of the O Club and towards his awaiting Bronco to take you home and love you properly.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow my library page for notifications on when I post:) @cortezslibrary

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[baestruly]

i’m crashing down, crash into me ━━ jj maybank

❝won’t stop until you’re safe.❞ 

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  jj maybank x fem!singlemom!reader

⤷ IN WHICH, after your ex rafe━━also the dad of your son, leo after an accidental pregnancy━━threatens you and your friends if you don’t let him see his son, you get too overwhelmed with everything that you break down. but jj is willing to do anything to help and protect you and leo.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - single parent, hurt comfort, fluff, mentions of threats, panic attacks, placed in s2 sometime after he framed john b and tried to drown sarah, they are 18, rafe is 20. you and jj aren’t dating yet but the type of friends that the whole friend group thinks is bullshit because of how stupid you guys are, i’m sorry i love dynamics like that especially in slow burn. 

a/n - i’m sorry to rafe lovers. this was for a fic i had planned, but scrapped so why not make some scenes that i wrote imagines. also send me requests bc currently i have none my heart is breaking. 

Nothing. There’s nothing in the world as you stood in this battered kitchen. Empty, and alone.

Gone. Nothing.

Then you’re pretty sure you hear your heart crack, because it stops, and everything comes crashing down. 

Whimpering as your lip quivers from the flow of tears streaming down your face━━this is the only sign that you know you’re really drowning.

Forgetting about your friends behind you, you have your back to them, hiding yourself in your hands. You have always had people there for you but you feel so alone━━as if you were the only person in the world, and you were the only person who could break yourself. 

“(Y/N)━━” JJ whispers softly. You’ve never heard his voice like that, he didn’t seem like the type. 

“I’m sorry━━I’m so sorry I━━no, I’m━━“

“No. No, (Y/N), you never apologize.” He shot back, concerned, before moving to face you as he held your arms in his hands. “You don’t apologize for this, alright?”

You could only shake your head. You couldn’t open your eyes and your hands were shaking. 

JJ knitted his eyebrows, running his hand up your arm to your shoulder swiftly before rubbing his thumb against your bare shoulder and pulling you into him. “C’mere.”

You sobbed harder into his chest as muffled cries for help tore through your whole body. “I'm a bad mom━━I can’t do this, I can’t━━”

You couldn’t fucking do this

You were so alone, nothing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck━━you were drowning.

You couldn’t, you couldn’t.

You couldn’t! 

Suddenly, JJ placed his hands on your shoulders━━backing you away from his chest so all you had left to do was stare at the ground in shame, trying to cover your red and glossy face from his view.

He placed his hands on each side of your head, lifting it as he forced you to look at him. “Yes, you can.”

You just kept shaking your head. You weren't listening or paying attention to what anyone was saying, you knew. No━━just no, you couldn’t.

He brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes deeply, as if everything he could say could reach your brain. Your eyes scanned his face━━sadness pooling deep into those waves, just waiting to burst and form the waterfall. 

“You’re strong, (Y/N). The strongest person I know.” He brought your back to his chest, and he felt your tension ease as your shoulder sagged before wrapping your arms around him.

The only response he got was a choked sob.

“What have you always done, huh? What was the one thing you told me that you promised yourself when Leo was first born?”

“But, you don’t understand.” You whispered, your voice high with emotion. “He’s going to━━”

“I know, I know━━and we’re going to help you.” 

“But you can’t! Okay? You fucking can’t because my life, Leo’s, and maybe all of yours is on the line! I can’t deal with this shit━━”

JJ’s eyes suddenly widened. “What’d you mean?”

Surprised you  let all that anger take over yourself, you blinked as if they could take back all those words. Instead, you let out a sigh and wiped the tear falling down your face.

You could do this.

Just tell him, he trusts you, (Y/N).

“I know he’s his dad, and I never want to keep him away from him━━but he’s just not fit enough to be one━━Y’know? It’s just, like it’s just about the thought of being one, but where was he these past few years! I was just raising him alone, and he hadn’t tried to contact me or find me, nothing━━he didn’t give to shits!” You swallowed the thick lump in your throat. Your voice was cracking and you were afraid you were going to break down again. The smallest touch would affect you now. “And now━━now he’s threatening me, and you guys━━and my dad, my house━━” yep, there it was, the tears. “And I'm scared. I'm so scared, i'm so━━”

Your shaken voice stopped as JJ pulled you in for a hug again, and the one of a million barriers crashed down behind your eyes.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, or Leo. None of us will let that happen.”

“He knows stuff, JJ━━he knows about everything we’ve done and he’s going to use that against us.”

He continued rubbing your back, sending shivers down your spin as your stomach swelled with the oh too familiar feeling of butterflies. “Well we have something against him too, right?”

You knitted your eyebrows against his chest, before stepping back to look him in the eyes. “What?”

“Just give me a day, I’ll get it sorted out.” JJ squeezed your shoulder, and was about to head for the door until━━

“━━Hey! What are you going to do? That’s Leo’s dad, remember━━”

“I’m not going to hurt him, not too bad. Shit━━but I am gon’ make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on you, or Leo.”

With that, he spun on his heel and ran out the door, leaving you alone━━but you didn’t feel like you did before. JJ was there and so were your friends, you lost sight of that.

It only needed JJ to get you back up again, and to help you find the way when you were starting to get lost. Only this time, it hadn’t been too late.

thanks for reading! request anything for any character in my masterlist

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#jj maybank #jj #outerbanks #obx #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank headcanon #jj x y/n #jj x you #obx imagine #imagine #writing #fic #jj maybank fluff

[ironspiderfics]

this is supposed to be a vacation

for @meilz

by @iron--spider

~

Tony loves this kid.

It’s a montage at the beginning of a movie—Tony was crazy about Peter almost immediately, couldn’t accept it, his own damn daddy issues courtesy of Howard Stark, then he had to accept it because the kid kept trying to die, then things settled, they worked together, then they unsettled and the kid dissolved in Tony’s hands, and a year of heavy-drinking and nearly exploding himself in the lab wound up with all the dissolved people undissolved and the kid back and Tony in a hospital bed. Three-week coma. Whole screaming celebration when he woke up loud enough to bust his eardrums and restart his heart.

But Peter was there. Peter was there. 

Time slowed to a crawl, sped up and slowed down again, and Tony tried to recover. He knew Peter and his friends went on that European trip—he encouraged it even though Peter was worried about leaving after everything. May and Happy chaperoned, and then everyone nearly died because Quentin fucking Beck decided to roll out of Tony’s past to try and kill off someone he loves. He failed, because Peter is Peter, and Fury and Happy shut down the false allegations Beck tried to put out there before he was arrested, and everybody came home.

It’s been about two months, since then. And Tony had just gotten back on his feet a week or so before Peter left, and he’s even steadier now. Getting steadier by the day. 

But he loves this kid. More now, than ever. The son he never had. He loves May, he loves the kids that come along with his kid, he loves everything Peter has to say and everything he doesn’t, he loves keeping an eye on his missions, he loves the way he fits so snug into Tony’s little family. 

And he loves him enough to know when he’s crashing. When his eyes are tired and his patrols aren’t as succinct and punchy as they usually are. When he needs a vacation from his recent vacation. As if nearly being killed by some asshole in London is the vacation any of them need. 

So, Tony makes a couple decisions. 

After all the shit they’ve gone through, what the hell could go wrong with a break?

~

Peter knew Tony was planning something, because he isn’t secretive when he’s excited, and he found out what he was planning when Tony asked if Ned and MJ’s families would mind if he took them out of the city for a few days.

And about a week later, they were heading upstate to Mohonk Mountain House.

And Peter hasn’t been complaining, at least not to Tony, but his tiredness has been bone-deep since he got back from London. Since before that, really. Coming back from the dead can do that to someone, and he doesn’t even like to call it dead, and apparently they were all tiny particle souls inside that infinity stone but it doesn’t matter because that’s a whole other can of worms and he gets more tired and more weary every time he even thinks about any of that. 

He swung right into a wall the other day. Slap right into it. He almost broke his nose again. He feels like that might have been the moment Tony decided on this vacation—Peter could tell by the look on his face when he told him that he’d crossed some kind of line. 

They walk inside the main lobby of Mohonk and Peter keeps hearing Ben’s voice in his head. You’re gonna catch flies, Pete. But he can’t stop gaping at everything. Like…he’s been in a Hilton and this is so much better than a Hilton. 

“This place looks straight out of a Hitchcock movie,” May says, and she knocks Tony on the arm.

Tony laughs, and Pepper turns around, raising her eyebrows at May. “Let’s just hope we don’t have any Hitchcock-type events happen while we’re here.”

“What would that mean?” Ned asks, catching up to the group and trying to whisper in Peter’s ear. “You’ve seen Hitchcock movies. I remember you watched that weird apartment one a hundred times.”

“I love that movie,” Peter says. Rear Window. He never wants his leg to be broken. He knows he’d go insane just like that.

“You haven’t seen Psycho?” MJ asks Ned, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder.

Ned hums a little bit. “No. I know about it though. No crazy Grandmas for me.”

“That’s not what happens.”

Leather couches and tall ceilings and intricate carpeting and columns and everything somehow looks really rich but really comfortable at the same time—

“No,” Tony says, turning around and pointing at them. “No, no, and no.” He points at May too. “No. No Rear Window, no Psycho, no Vertigo—maybe a little bit North by Northwest—no, you know what, no. Not that either. This is going to be the lamest movie you’ve ever—this isn’t even gonna be a movie, there’s no—there’s no plot, this is just—a family video. A home movie. That’s it.”

Family video feels warm, and Peter grins.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“It’s gonna be fine—”

“Absolutely nothing—”

“Listen, I’m hitting that buffet—”

“I’m just gonna sleep,” Peter says, as they approach the huge front desk. “Just the entire time.”

Tony smiles softly at him, and he winks. “You deserve it,” he says, and Peter can tell that he means it. 

They hear crashing, something that sounds expensive hitting the ground somewhere behind them, and they all turn around and see a bunch of employees running around to try and take care of it. A whole big production and two guys trying to hold up a big bear statue that’s trying to fall over.

“Okay, step to,” Happy’s voice says, and Peter hears him before he sees him, and then he breezes by, striding out in front of them. “Let’s go, come on, follow me, let’s get this in the books—”

“Oh, there he is,” Tony says, patting him on the shoulders. “There he is.”

~

Peter and May could never afford a vacation like this. They could never even afford to imagine something like this. Peter feels like they would have charged him if he’d even looked at photos of this place. A big, historic, mountain resort in upstate New York, on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lake? 

But now they’re here. They’re here with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Peter was able to bring two friends. Happy drove them all in a big plush rental van. They’ve got a line of suites on the sixth floor and they had steak and lobster for dinner on their first night. 

It feels unreal. But things feel unreal a lot. Especially things involving Tony, involving Spider-Man. Any of it. Like he’s having a long, prolonged dream before Ben wakes him up for school.

Peter stands on one of the terrace balconies with Tony while the others are arranging activities for tomorrow, and he stares off at the lake and the way the moon hits it. Light rippling on the water. 

“You really think you’re gonna sleep the whole time?” Tony asks, leaning on the railing. “Because nobody would judge you for it. Kayaks can wait. Ballroom dancing can absolutely wait, as can all of May’s Dirty Dancing comparisons, because I can feel them building up, like an aura around her—”

Peter snorts. “No,” he says. “But I probably will mostly just…relax. Take it easy. Just sleeping, no alarms—”

“You deserve it, like I said,” Tony says. “It’s thrilling to me that you’re even giving yourself a break.”

“Look who’s talking,” Peter says, giving him a look. “You were trying to get down to the workshop when your arm was still holding on by one string of muscle.”

Tony’s entire face contorts. “That is a terrible, disgusting image, Mr. Parker—”

Peter snorts again, choking on his laughter. 

Tony knocks him on the arm. “You’re awful, a menace, making fun of an injured old man—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Peter says, swatting him back, and still laughing. “You’re the one who needs—needs this. Like Happy always says, I’m a ‘spring chicken’, I—I can bounce back.”

“I had enough bedrest for the next ten years,” Tony says, and he’s giving Peter that look again. Concern. Like he’s trying to read his mind. “You—I know you like to act like it all doesn’t affect you, but you were going through hell on the daily before that purple asshole snapped his fingers. Then there was all that, and the right after that, and the coming back from that, and me wasting away in front of you—and then Quentin Beck flaunting his dickheaded tendencies on your school trip—that was supposed to be your relaxing time and it got away from you too and I just—like I said, you deserve your time. You need it. Don’t—you’re not selling yourself short if you say you need some rest. You put everybody first all the time, yourself last—you deserve to relax, that’s all.”

Peter blows out a breath. He doesn’t even really try to deny it in his head anymore. He doesn’t try to compare himself to other people who have it worse. He’s tired. He’s beat. He feels older than he is. 

Tony clicks his tongue and looks out at the lake. “I know this place is kind of old, kind of dated, rooms kind of look a little bit like grandma was head decorator, but—I, uh—I’ve got fond memories here. Mom used to bring me, when Howard was, uh…in some of his dicier moments. And sometimes we’d just relax, too. Recover from…knowing him.”

Peter is just kind of staring at him, because it always takes him off guard when Tony starts talking about Howard. They’re close enough now that he hears stories about his personal life all the time—his growing up, his insane college years with Rhodey, meeting Pepper meeting Happy and everything in between, but Howard is still…something they don’t really talk about, past flippant comments about Tony striving to be a better father figure than he ever was. 

“Then I’m glad you brought us here,” Peter says, his voice cracking a little bit. “I’m glad you brought me here.” And in his head he hears I’m glad you brought me back. Because he thinks about that all the time. 

Everyone’s back because of you, Peter. He never gave up on bringing you back. It was about saving you.

Tony looks like he’s about to say something else when there’s a bunch of rustling in the trees below them, and a loud thump, and more rustling. They both peer over the railing, and Peter can see the trees moving, but not anything else.

They share a wary look.

“Probably just a skunk,” Tony says.

“Oh, great.”

“Or maybe a band of feral cats.”

“Okay that’s better. Hopefully not too feral. Like, I hope they’re receptive to petting.”

They keep staring down at the trees, but it all seems quiet again.

~

Tony and Pepper have one room, Peter, MJ and Ned have the one in the middle, and May and Happy are on the end in a single room together even though Peter is refusing to acknowledge what that means or what might be going on in there. Tony mentioned that the rooms were dated, but they feel more like what a royal castle might look like inside, and for the longest time Peter is worried about wrinkling up the sheets. And then eventually it’s Ned’s snoring keeping him awake.

And then, when he’s finally mostly asleep—

“Peter.”

MJ’s voice. Peter’s in the bed with Ned and she got the other huge bed all to herself, but she sounds like she’s right next to him. He turns over onto his side, towards her voice, and then she’s—

On the ground right next to his face—

He startles a little bit, and she grabs his hand.

“MJ what—”

“There’s someone in the room.”

She’s whispering, and his heart speeds up a little bit. What the hell? There’s no way.

“Are you sure it’s not Happy?” Peter asks, as Ned lets out a rip of a snore. “Sometimes he likes to do perimeter checks—”

“It’s not Happy!” she whisper-yells.

Peter blinks, and she’s already pulling the sheets off him and yanking him out of bed, and he feels like he’d be more paranoid if something was actually happening, like he’d feel it pulsing and burning in his head, and she’s tugging on him and they’re stumbling over to the wall and—

“MJ—MJ—”

She flips on the light—

And Peter only sees him briefly—a man, standing over by the bathroom, and Peter barely gets to see what he looks like before the lights go out again. 

But he wasn’t Happy he wasn’t Tony he wasn’t supposed to be here, and Peter’s heart rockets into his throat and he hears MJ gasp and he hears feet moving and Ned is still snoring, and Peter rushes towards where the man was and tries to catch him tries to fight, but he only meets open air. 

MJ yanks the door open and she’s already running out into the hallway, yelling Tony’s name, yelling for Peter to follow her. And the hall light is streaming into their room now, and Peter looks around, breathing hard, trying to find the guy—

Nothing. Nothing.

Nobody’s here.

Ned is still snoring.

~

Tony stands next to Peter while the manager shows them the video footage. He watches their doors, completely still and closed from the hallway cameras, and then he watches MJ race out, and Tony and Happy run in a few minutes later. Followed by Pepper and May a few minutes after that. And then Ned finally looming out into the hallway, still half asleep.

“As you can see,” the manager says. “No one entered the room.”

Peter can feel Tony’s anger simmering beside him, and he takes it as a compliment that Tony is all-in on believing that they saw someone, even though he didn’t see him himself.

“Can I get the outside view again?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

They switch to the outside view again, which they’ve already seen about three times. The cameras aren’t great out there, and Happy found out they’re in the process of an upgrade. Peter can see their floor from a distance, he sees a little flash of light that they can’t identify, and then nothing else. No one scaling the building. Not in a way they can see, anyway.

“When will the upgrade be complete?” Tony asks, his tone clipped.

“After your stay, sir, unfortunately.”

Tony huffs, and doesn’t say anything else, and he turns and takes Peter’s arm and leads him to the door. They walk out into the hallway, where MJ and Ned quickly back up.

“Don’t need to listen through the wall,” Tony says.

“Uh, we weren’t,” MJ says. “We were just—”

“Looking at the wallpaper,” Ned says. “It’s—so cool.”

“Uh huh,” Tony says. He moves so they’re in a little circle, and he grips Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to leave?” he asks, looking around at the three of them. “Because we can leave. We can go somewhere else, figure something else out. Or we can move rooms, we can go down to the Grove Lodge so we can all be closer together—we can do whatever we want.”

Ned’s eyes go wide. “I mean, I didn’t see anything, I was sleeping—”

“It’s fine,” MJ says, fast, glancing at Peter. “I feel like we—Peter and I must have been—I mean, we’re—everything that happened, we’re always thinking about it, and Mysterio was about like—making us think we were seeing things that weren’t there or were there but different—it’s fine. Joint hallucination. Or maybe I made him think he saw something because I was saying I saw something.”

That would normally be a Tony joke cue, but he just looks at her intently. “You don’t have to make excuses,” he says. “I don’t want you guys feeling…unsafe. Despite the presence of, uh—enhanced individuals. Unnamed.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, and she looks at Peter and nods. 

Tony looks at him too. And Peter knows that if he said anything about being worried, Tony would move them in an instant.

What the hell did he see? 

Were they really just tired?

Did he think he saw something because MJ thought she saw something?

“It’s okay,” he says, slowly, because…he isn’t entirely sure. But MJ seems sure and Peter doesn’t want to blow up the trip if they were just in a PTSD-addled nightmare. It is their first real vacation since that shit with Beck happened, it still feels like a knife in his gut sometimes.

“You sure?” Tony asks, and he shakes Peter’s shoulder a little bit.

Peter looks at MJ, and she nods at him. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I’m sure.”

~

They go back to bed after that without any more incidents, but Peter mostly stays awake, staring off into the darkness. MJ is awake too, through a lot of the night, and they text because Ned is sleeping and snoring like there’s nothing wrong and there’s never been anything wrong, ever.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. Nerd :)

Over breakfast, Tony lets them know that Happy is setting up Friday to do sweeps and is doing his own personal perimeter checks.

“I want him to enjoy his break too though,” Peter says, pushing his waffle around on the plate.

“He’s enjoying it,” May says, through a mouthful of eggs.

Peter frowns at her. “I don’t like that. I don’t—I don’t need—”

She shrugs. “Well.”

“Okay, Miss Kiss and Tell,” Tony says, laughing as Pepper sits down next to him. “But it’s good. He’s on it, and I’m on it too.”

“Here,” MJ says, coming back from the buffet and sitting down next to Peter. She puts a cinnamon bun on his plate, smiling at him. “They just brought them out. Ned is trying to barter for more.”

“They can’t deny him,” Pepper says. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Exactly,” Tony says. “And after last night, we should be getting extra—I still think they sent someone in to check on something and didn’t want to admit it. I’m not gonna go all I’d like to speak to the manager on them, even though I did—do that—but either way—”

Peter hasn’t landed anywhere on it yet. He keeps trying to think back on it, trying to remember exactly what he saw. His spider sense, newly minted, is usually pretty bang on if something isn’t right, if he feels like he’s in danger, but he’d just woken up, he’s foggy in the mornings sometimes—

He figures his mind was just playing tricks on him. But MJ too?

She rubs his leg, like she knows he's agonizing over it, and he reaches down and holds her hand.

“Okay,” Ned says, walking back over holding a plate. “They let me take five of them. They’re all really warm and gooey, I feel like this is a promising start to the day.”

~

Peter isn’t exactly a spa guy, so he doesn’t join May and Pepper when they decide to go there, even though he feels like it might help him if he ever figured out how to relax. But going there is supposed to help him relax, so how can he ever relax enough to get to the point of going there—either way, he goes out onto the lake with Tony and Ned and MJ.

MJ and Peter both get their own kayaks, and Ned and Tony are in a canoe.

“He wouldn’t get into one of these,” Tony yells. “Honestly, if Happy’s not still doing security shit, he’s probably golfing. He’s terrible at it and he never likes to do it when anybody he knows is around. I’ll message him in a little bit and make sure but that’s probably where he is. Ned. You have to keep that thing on just in case we turn over.”

Peter snorts, looking back at them, and he sees Tony adjusting Ned’s lifejacket on his shoulders.

“Happy’s just afraid of racing,” Peter yells, cutting his oar through the water. “MJ remember when—”

“Yes,” she says, a little out ahead of him, and she’s already laughing. “I don’t even know why he was trying to chase you in New York traffic. While you were swinging in the air above him. You didn’t have any cars in your way, nothing was stopping you—”

Peter snorts again, bending over and laughing a little bit. “He was so mad. He didn’t talk to me for a week. He made me talk to Friday specifically.”

“I gave him shit for that!” Tony yells. “He shouldn’t have been trying to chase you. The gas leak had nothing to do with you. He’s always tossing blame around willy nilly.”

“Yeah he still blames me for the time those columns collapsed on that old garbage building,” Ned says. “A line of code can’t do that, that building was old I didn’t do anything there was no way he should have yelled at me at all let alone for twenty minutes—”

“He’s just dramatic,” Tony says.

“He just gets worried,” Peter says, glancing over his shoulder at their boat. And Ned makes big eyes at him, because yeah, uh, they’ve seen why he gets worried. They’ve dealt with why he gets worried. And now, after last night, Peter feels like he’s making himself worried. He needs to stop, they’ve already moved past it, they’re still here, it’s all fine.

“Yeah, I imbued him with a worrying virus that will never be cured,” Tony says. “And now the next generation has to deal with it. Here we are.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. He’s gotta relax. The sun is shining on the lake bright and beautiful, and May is actually getting a massage for the first time in years and everything is fine. It’s fine. 

He hears Tony chastising Ned again about his life jacket, gently, and Peter starts rowing out and around the outside of the lake. They’re the only ones out here right now, and he wonders how long that’s gonna last. He wonders if that’s something the resort set up, because it’s Tony, because of what happened last night, because Happy’s been intimidating people, and Peter simultaneously appreciates it and balks against the special treatment. But he’s with Tony, he should know it’s gonna happen.

He feels like he’s going a little faster than he should be going based on the way he’s rowing, like he’s really moving along. He glances over at MJ and she’s even further away from him, moving in the direction of the hotel.

“We’re not racing yet!” he yells, and he feels like Happy—constantly worried. But he’s worried about her in a different way and actually starting things with her in Europe made the whole thing worth it in a way, and now they’re together and it’s amazing but he’s just so worried all the time.

And now he’s stopped rowing all together, and he should be slowing down, but he’s still moving. Moving….fast. Maybe even getting faster.

Should that be happening? He doesn’t really kayak. He shifts around a little bit and looks down, and feels a little bit tucked in here. 

“Hey!” Tony yells. “You’re moving like you have a motor on you!”

Peter’s brows furrow, because he is, and he’s not rowing, and he should have lost any propulsion at this point, and he looks up and he sees MJ looking back at him, and she’s not moving anymore, and he glances back and both Tony and Ned look concerned—

And he gets the worst feeling in his chest, like an alarm, like his spidey sense but more warped and panicked, and he tries to get up without toppling over, because the kayak is still moving for no reason, speeding along and it’s going faster and faster. He drops his oar, and balances precariously for a few seconds before he leaps into the water.

Bubbles all around him, and muffled calls of his name���

And he’s only submerged for a couple seconds, because of the life jacket pulling him back to the surface, and he comes up just in time to watch the empty kayak lift up into the air, careening into the forest and disappearing into the trees. 

And he floats there, treading water, staring.

“What the fuck?” Ned yells. “Peter? Peter?”

“Peter!” MJ yells.

“Pete, we’re coming!” Tony yells. “Hold on!”

But Peter is just sort of. Staring. Staring off, at where the kayak disappeared. He stares over there. He stares. 

No thoughts, just. Insane.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Peter asks, his voice squeaking. “Is that—MJ you should probably—you shouldn’t be in there if you’re not, uh, prepared to go—flying—did anybody see it explode? Did it explode? Or did it just shatter, uh, well, wooden—wooden kayak, was it wooden? Or plastic? Either way I bet it’s not a full kayak anymore—”

He feels himself being lifted out of the water, and it’s Tony pulling him into the boat. He doesn’t know how they got here so fast but to be honest a kayak just went full fighter jet on him so he can’t be that confused. 

His shock has him gripped and he just sort of lays there like a rag doll as Tony and Ned pull him up, and he sees MJ rowing over to them. Thankfully, she’s still in her kayak, and it’s not—flying through the air.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, once Peter isn’t in the water anymore. He’s got both arms around him, and Peter is laying against his chest, and Tony is patting his cheek and trying to peer around and meet his eyes. Ned has his hands on Peter’s knees and he’s just staring at him. 

“I just got a defective one,” Peter says, pointing over at the forest. “It’s okay. It was just—a flying one, we didn’t make sure we didn’t get a flying one. I hope MJ doesn’t have a flying one and it’s just not like. On a time delay I don’t know. MJ, just—hurry over here—” He waves her over. He wants her to hurry up. 

“Peter,” Tony says, and he pats Peter’s chest. “Are you alright? Did you twist anything when you jumped out, can you breathe—”

“Are kayaks supposed to do that?” Peter asks, feeling like he can hear his own voice echoing everywhere. “I didn’t think that was, uh, the case—”

“It’s not the case,” Ned says. “No. It’s not. It’s not the case.”

“Peter.”

MJ finally rolls up alongside them—

“I think you should get out of there,” Peter says, pointing at her. “It’s unsafe—”

“Something is going on,” MJ says, and she’s not looking at Peter. She’s looking at Tony.

~

Tony loves this kid, and this is supposed to be a fucking vacation. Tony loves this kid, and he believed him when he thought someone was in his room, even if the hotel was trying to sway them away from the idea. Tony loves this kid, and he just had to watch him abandon his kayak because said kayak was lifting off and destroying itself somewhere on the property. And kayaks don’t just fucking do that.

Tony stands close to Happy, well into his personal space. He’s got his hands on his hips, like a stern stance is gonna bring him any closer to an answer, and Happy sighs.

“I’ve done ten sweeps,” he says. “There’s nothing going on. There’s nobody here that isn’t supposed to be here. We even looked at the remains of the goddamn kayak and I didn’t find anything wrong with it.”

“There was something wrong with it,” Tony says. “It was flying. It was flying, speed wise, without Pete even rowing, and then it was flying, literally, after he had to abandon ship.”

“I know. It was in a million pieces.”

Tony sighs. They moved down to the Grove Lodge after it happened. Nobody told Pepper and May why, because Peter was insisting on not telling May, and he was also insisting on not leaving even though Tony wanted to leave, because if they left then they were leaving danger behind for the poor unassuming Mohonk guests. And if they leave, danger will probably follow them anyway, and Tony doesn’t know what move to make. 

He’s upset, because this was supposed to be a relaxing break for all of them, but especially for Peter, after everything he’s goddamn gone through. He’s upset because this place felt like his place, his haven, a place where he could get away and be secluded and safe, and now something is pursuing them here. Something is trying to hurt them.

“You haven’t found anything?” Tony presses. “Nothing?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Happy says, and he glances back at the front door of the lodge again. “I’m still looking, I’m not giving up, and I think we should be better located down here because we rented out the whole house and I told them not to come in for room service or cleaning or anything. I know we lose the nice high-up view—”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s afraid to even be discussing this in public. Anybody could be anywhere listening.

He doesn’t like feeling like he can’t protect these kids. 

“It looks like they’re targeting Peter,” Tony says, as quietly as he can. “And I can’t tell if that’s because of me, that they think—I mean the whole goddamn world thinks he’s my love child at this point, thinks May is my secret mistress or the sister of his secret mother, God knows, I don’t know what the most recent story is. But I can’t tell if they’re targeting him because of me or because of the other thing—”

“And the other thing is worse—the spider thing—”

“I didn’t specify on purpose, Hap,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Right, right—the innocuous other thing—”

“We’re lucky we got out of Europe with the other thing intact—”

“Yeah,” Happy says, shaking his head, and Tony wishes he had been there with him, had been there period. He would have torn Beck in half had he laid eyes on him. 

Why do they always target people he loves? Why not him? Blow him up. Kidnap him. But he guesses he’s been there already. He guesses they’ve done all that and it’s old hat to these assholes to go to him directly.

But this could be about Spider-Man too. There could be people that know who he is. People always find out, no matter how hard Tony tries, and Peter has made plenty of his own enemies. His own gallery of rogues looking to take him down.

“Just don’t tell May, if she asks,” Tony says.

“Oh, and don’t tell Pepper either?” Happy asks, in that stupid voice he uses to make fun of Tony. Tony glares, and Happy glares back. “They know by now something’s going on. They’re not dumb. They’re just not saying anything. But May will beat someone to death with anything she can get her hands on and so will Pepper, so maybe we should be sticking close to them.”

Tony sighs. “I just wanted—”

“I know—”

“And now—”

“I know,” Happy says. “We’re on it. We know it’s real, now, even if these people won’t cop to anything. I’m in their walls. Literally. Maybe I’m doing some things I shouldn’t be.”

Tony steps up onto the porch. “Don’t even tell me.”

“I won’t. But maybe I am.”

~

“Ned, why are you in here while I’m in the bathtub?”

“She’s in here!”

“I’m dating her.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Ned says, not making any move to get up from his spot on the gold lounge chair. “That’s great, I see how things are going. I see what direction we’re heading in.”

Peter scoffs. He warmed up a long time ago, and he’s getting really pruny, but he doesn’t want to get out just yet. He feels like something is gonna happen if he gets out. Like it’s all gonna start up again and maybe the house is gonna explode or their fridge is gonna grow arms and start trying to fight them or something. 

And he isn’t lazy. He’s always ready to fight.

Maybe he’s a little lazy. But not usually. He thought Europe was gonna be a Spider-Man free trip and look how that turned out. And he thought this was going to be calm and relaxing but now it’s become suspicious. And worrying. And he’s torn between leaving and staying and telling May and not telling May and he doesn’t know if she’s in danger too and sometimes he feels like everybody would be safer if he lived out in Alaska somewhere and nobody knew him.

Peter sighs, and MJ rubs his shoulder. Ned is still giving him that look and Peter ignores that look. He’s never been in a little claw-foot tub like this before. Tony doesn’t even have these in the compound. And a bubble bath? He hasn’t had a bubble bath since he was a kid and Ben was still alive. It almost distracts him from… whatever the hell is going on here.

“We’ve got two more days,” MJ says. “And we’re sticking it out.”

“We’re sticking it out,” Peter says. “I got my webshooters, I guess I’ll wear them if we go hiking tomorrow.”

“Someone is gonna push you off a cliff,” Ned says, raising his eyebrows. 

“We’re all going together, so nobody is gonna push anybody,” MJ says. She leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Okay let’s leave so he can—get out.”

They both get up, and Peter watches as they argue.

“Oh, you’re not gonna help him?” Ned asks.

“Oh, you’re not?” MJ replies, nudging him as they move towards the door. “I thought that was your job, guy in the chair—”

~

They have dinner in the main building, and Peter watches his back. He only jumps once, when someone drops a tray full of plates, and he winces at the shattering and runs over there to help clean it up before they usher him away. They visit the horses in the stables, and Peter checks every nook and cranny to make sure somebody isn’t hiding in there. They watch May and Happy bust into the late jazz class that’s going on in the ballroom and Peter forgets to do anything because he feels like his face is going to catch on fire from all the blushing.

And he remembers to be paranoid when they get back to the Grove Lodge, and he can tell May is suspicious and they’re all watching him like hawks and he gets worried that Tony is the real target of whatever is happening here and he’s just a distraction. 

He can’t let anything happen to Tony. He can’t let anything happen to any of them.

Or maybe nothing is happening. And nobody was in their room. And the kayak was just—Parker luck. Too much strength, or something. 

He wakes up around three in the morning because he can’t stay asleep, and he sits down in the ‘great room’ and stares out into the darkness of the night. 

“Don’t jump,” Tony’s voice says, but Peter jumps anyway, twisting around and seeing him on the stairs. “You jumped! I said don’t jump! You heard me, I said it—”

Peter snorts, shaking his head. “You can’t just tell me not to jump and expect me not to jump—especially if you’re stepping out of the shadows—”

“There’s no shadows,” Tony says, stepping off the landing. “No shadows. I’m fully illuminated—”

Peter sighs. “You can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Tony says, walking over quietly. “Sleep and I, we have a very contemptuous relationship.” He shakes his head. “I just feel like shit because you can’t have a normal vacation. Whatever the hell is or isn’t going on here. You just deserve—Jesus, a full day, at the least, without something happening you have to question.” He sits down next to Peter and lets out a sigh.

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

“I mean—it might be. We’ve seen Europe as an example of very much my fault.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “That wasn’t your fault either. You know it wasn’t your fault, idiots blaming you for their own stupidity is not your fault—”

A huge crash outside. It sounds like one of those big weird planters falling over and knocking into the other planters and then it sounds like a bunch of feet shuffling and this isn’t Parker luck, this isn’t a hallucination, this isn’t a kayak doing non-kayak like things—

They both leap out of their chairs. The noises don’t stop and Tony is immediately stepping in front of Peter and holding his arm out, as if to shield him.

“Kid, go back upstairs—”

“No,” Peter whisper-shouts, grabbing his arm as the two of them move forward very, very slowly towards the back porch doors. “You almost died recently—you’re wearing pajamas and a house coat—”

“You don’t even know what a house coat is—”

Another crash, more skittering feet, and Peter focuses—he can hear separate heartbeats from the hearts he loves in this house. Two of them.

“Tony I’ve got my webshooters on—”

“That doesn’t matter you’re wearing pajamas too you’re not prepared—”

And when they’re just close enough to open the door, there’s a flash of bright white light. And Peter closes his eyes against it, and he can feel Tony turning around, trying to block him from it, and it must be more than just light because he hears a loud bang and the windows are shattering and it feels like a cataclysmic boom is pushing them through the air. The two of them fly backwards, and hit the far wall, and the last thing Peter hears before his head snaps back too far is 

GOD DAMMIT ALFIE YOU’RE TWO SECONDS TOO EARLY WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS JUMPING THE—

~

Peter gasps awake. His gasp echoes, and he sits up, and looks around, and he’s…nowhere.

He scrambles to his feet. He’s alone, and he’s nowhere, there’s nothing but blackness and his ears are popping like he’s high up and he sees—

He sees—

A kayak? Flying through the darkness? 

He watches it, cascading like a majestic bird, and he stares at it, and then it just—blinks out of existence. Like it was never even there.

Maybe he’s just dreaming. Maybe he never even woke up and went downstairs and talked to Tony. Maybe none of that happened at all. Maybe he’s still asleep and Ned is snoring somewhere and MJ is saying not beets in the salad in her sleep again and maybe—

God dammit, Alfie, I swear. I swear I’m gonna whack you in the head.

Peter spins around, in the complete darkness. He can see himself, his own body and his hands and his pajamas and his webshooters, like he’s got a spotlight on him. “Hello?” he calls. “What the hell is—whoever that is—”

And then the London Bridge appears huge and massive above his head and he starts to duck, nearly collapsing in on himself, and there’s no way this is actually happening this isn’t real and he shoots a web at it and it goes right through it and it hits—somewhere—somewhere in the darkness, it sticks, it—

ALFIE I THINK THEY’RE BOTH—

I KNOW IT I CAN TELL OKAY I’M NOT MORONIC—

It clicks in Peter’s head. This is someone using Beck’s tech. It’s someone using Beck’s tech. That’s what this is. This is some idiots using his tech and not knowing how to use it properly and—

Peter starts yelling. “Whoever you are, you’re—you’re not good at this—this isn’t gonna work out for you—”

The bridge disappears, and Peter starts running. His spidey sense is going berserk, and he can’t tell where the danger is, what direction, how far. He can’t tell what’s underneath his feet, it feels—crunchy, and a little old, maybe? All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of this illusion. It feels unstable.

He starts shooting his webs everywhere, and most of them fly away without hitting anything, and that makes him wonder where the hell he could be with so much space—

STARK IS DOING SOMETHING WITH HIS AI—

Peter’s heart lurches.

“Tony!” Peter yells, still running, and he holds his hands out and tries to find something, anything, and he shoots webs fucking everywhere, and then—

SHIT—

He runs right into someone. And they push him off, and then he gets a brass-knuckled fist to the face before he can get a hit off of his own. He stumbles backwards through the sharp pain, wrestling with the instinct to just fight even though it’s only darkness all around him and he can’t see who the hell he’s fighting with. 

Instead, he spits out a line of blood and keeps running.

Pulsing, face pulsing, beating with ripped skin and metal—

A massive kayak blips into the air briefly, and then it disappears.

Peter narrows his eyes, shaking his head, and what the hell is with the kayak—

He runs smack into something, like a train going accordion against a wall, and he stumbles backwards again, clutching at his crushed nose and trying to stay on his feet. The punch and the goddamn running into whatever that was has him dizzy, has him mangled and seeing stars in this manufactured darkness and then he hears Tony hollering his name at the top of his lungs—

“Peter! Peter!”

He sounds like he’s behind him—

“Tony!” Peter yells, all nasally. “Tony! Hey I’m over here—”

He turns around, changing his trajectory. And the darkness blips, breaking in large pixels, and Peter keeps running towards Tony’s voice and the darkness blips again, turns bright white, and then—

The illusion, or lack of one, breaks all at once, and Peter can see—

He’s on the roof of the main Mohonk building—he can see the lake, and the forest, and the mountains, settled in the calm of the night that feels decidedly not calm for him in particular, and he skids to a halt because he’s nearly running off the roof—

And he feels someone grab his arm and tug him back, and he spins around and it’s Tony, thank God it’s Tony—

“Hey!” Tony yells, and Peter looks at him and grabs his arm and they both look up and—

There are just two guys standing there. Two guys, both on the shorter side, definitely unkempt, and they’re holding a little gray box and they’re both just hitting it and hitting it and hitting it—

Peter aims his webs and just starts shooting. He feels like he shoots the most amount of webs he’s ever shot. The two guys fly backwards and get stuck to one of the upraised red parts of the roof, and they’re both gritting their teeth and trying to get out like they’re Scooby Doo villains.

“They must be associated with Beck,” Peter says, trying to catch his breath. His entire mouth tastes like blood. “They’ve gotta be.”

“I figured, with their shitty illusion attempts,” Tony says, and he sounds angrier than Peter’s ever heard him. He glances at Peter, starts to glance away, but then he looks at him again, fast, his brows furrowing severely. “Jesus Christ, you’re—bleeding everywhere—”

“Yeah, it feels—it doesn’t feel good—they didn’t hit you?” Peter asks.

Tony takes Peter’s chin gently, tilting his head and wincing. “No,” he says. “They didn’t goddamn hit me—”

“Well, the nose was from—running into something—I think that, uh, I think that’s a chimney over there, I think I ran into it—you didn’t run into anything—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Oh, that’s great—”

Tony looks like he’s about to breathe fire, and he lets go of Peter and starts stomping towards the webbed bad guys.

“Why the hell would you be loyal to a moron like him?” Tony asks. “Beck? He couldn’t even keep a job at Stark Industries—”

“Yeah, buddy, because you stole his idea,” one of them hollers. They’re both still wiggling around, trying to get out.

Tony sneers. “He worked for my company executing an idea I designed and commissioned and decided to weaponize it when it was created to help deal with trauma and mental health—have you never had a job, an occupation—you know what, I don’t care, I don’t care—”

“Well he didn’t say that, he didn’t say any of that exactly,” the other guy says, the one with the longer hair. “He just said—”

“Nothing he says is true,” Peter yells, wincing when he touches his nose. “That guy is a liar, and a freak, and you believed him enough to follow us on vacation and—screw up every attempt you made to kill us—it was one of you guys in my room—”

“No, that was just testin’, that was just—we was just testin’, it was—you guys acted really dramatic—”

Peter scoffs. “Dramatic?”

And the two guys start giving each other nasty looks, even though they’re webbed shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe if you hadn’t dropped that dart gun in the lobby when they first got here—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t fallen out of the tree—”

“Maybe if you had made the goddamn kayak explode instead of fly—”

“Stop!” Tony yells, cutting his hands through the air like an angry teacher. “Stop. Stop. I’ve never wanted to hear Boston accents less. Stop. You’re arrested. We’ve arrested you.”

“You can’t do that, the Avengers aren’t cops,” the shorter one says. He’s got a tattoo on his neck that says GOLDBARES with a Haribo bear icon and Peter squints at it and he feels like his entire face hurts worse just from seeing it.

“You’ve committed several crimes,” Tony says, still pointing at them. “It’s—my personal security already—”

There’s a click. A very loud click. And both guys clam up real quick.

“What was that?” Tony asks.

Peter’s spidey sense is—ratcheting up, clear into his teeth—

“Tony!” he yells, because it feels like something is coming, and, just like in the Grove Lodge, there’s a big boom and they’re blown backwards by a seismic wave—

And they’re launched off the roof, and it feels like they’re moving in slow motion, through the dead dark of the night and the reflection of the lake, and Peter screams like a moron. He just screams, and then he shoots a web right at Tony and pulls him in with it, and then he shoots a web at the building and swings back around with him. 

They don’t land well, because Peter’s brain is on the backburner and there’s nothing on the front, and they roll in a heap, Peter tucking his face into Tony’s shoulder. When they come to a halt Tony pulls back, sitting up and touching Peter’s cheek.

“You in there?”

“I’m in there. Here,” Peter says, and he feels like he’s bleeding worse, somehow. “Did they blow up? Did those guys blow up? It sounded like they blew up.”

“We didn’t blew up we’re still over here but maybe I wish we woulda blew up because—”

And they start shouting at each other, but Peter tries to tune them out.

“Thank God you brought those things,” Tony says, tapping Peter’s wrist. “Thanks, bud.”

Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head and still just. Laying there. “Oh yeah, no problem. All good, just—completely normal.”

Tony sighs, and his eyes cut to the side. “Any other late traps ready to explode?” he yells, over his shoulder.

They stop arguing with each other. There’s a brief silence. 

“Uh. I honestly got no idea. We just brought the whole bag of tricks, I don’t know. There’s shit everywhere.”

Tony looks at Peter, slowly shaking his head.

“Fantastic,” Peter says. “Wonderful.”

~

“So, you weren’t in there watching us when we were getting our nails done in the spa?” Pepper asks. “I thought it was weird. I told May it was weird. That was these guys—”

Tony scoffs, and he feels like he instantly gets a headache, a migraine—

“Of course I wasn’t—of course—you thought I was just standing there? Staring at you in the spa? You didn’t think that was out of the ordinary—”

Pepper gives him a look, and Peter laughs from the hammock behind them.

“Yeah, when I went to get my nails done later you kept walking in and out,” Happy says. “But I thought you were just—I don’t know what I thought. But then you told me about the kayak thing later and I thought—well—I attributed it to that.”

“Happy went and got his nails done,” Ned whispers, somewhere behind Tony, too. “We could do that?”

“Who’s stopping you?” MJ says, quiet.

“Well, the whole—the whole situation stopped me, I guess, but I didn’t really think about it—”

“I’m glad it wasn’t you staring at us,” May says, standing near the railing and peering out into her binoculars. “Pepper said it was normal, but it was concerning me.”

Tony glares at Pepper, but she just bats her eyes at him like the picture of innocence.

“Sometimes Peter does that to me,” May says. “Just stares at me from behind a Lucky Charms box in the kitchen. That’s how I know something’s wrong.”

Tony snorts, and he turns around as soon as Peter starts protesting.

“I do not!” Peter says, shifting around in the hammock. “I do not do that.”

“It sounds like something you’d do,” Ned says.

“You’ve done that to me,” MJ says, clearing her throat.

Peter huffs, and everyone laughs at him, and Tony tries not to laugh too hard, because this started with his own wife acting like she thinks he’s capable of acting like some weirdo who stands around staring at people.

Tony sighs. He turns around, walking over and peering down at Peter. He braces his hand on the tree his hammock is attached to. “How’s the nose?” Tony asks.

“Broken.”

“It’s not broken anymore, we reset it.”

“It knows it was broken. I know too.”

He’s still got the butterfly bandages on the bridge of his nose, and it’s bruised and angry looking. He’s got a burst blood vessel in his eye, and the white part is dipped with red. Tony feels like shit because he got out of the whole ordeal relatively unscathed. Just a few bumps and bruises. Some whiplash. But Peter broke his nose again.

They hiked up to the Sky Top Tower, and the kids wanted to hang out once they got up here. They all thought Peter had earned the hammock. Happy refused to come, and he’s in charge of the security situation, anyway, so he couldn’t exactly abandon it to do a hike he didn’t want to do. 

They had to clear the whole damn resort out to get rid of any remaining traps and illusions. Tony had to bring in a whole team. Rhodey made fun of him on the phone when Tony told him, laughing for a good five minutes.

And sure, it’s stupid. Those guys are stupid and they had no idea what the hell they were doing, they couldn’t even attack properly. But that’s what happens when stupid people follow more powerful stupid people. They hold grudges. They make up shit in their heads. They cause problems.

And it’s never really funny when Peter is bloody at the end of it.

“I feel like I’m sinking,” Peter says, his brows furrowing.

He reaches out his hand, and Tony takes it, and he pulls him out of the hammock as MJ and Ned push on his shoulders. Peter groans like he’s a hundred years old, and Tony claps him on the shoulder.

May looks away from her binoculars. “How you doing, honeybunch?”

“Fine,” Peter says, letting go of Tony’s hand. “Incredible. Amazing.”

“Just a normal day for a hero,” Pepper says. “MJ, you’ll get used to it, May, you’ll never get used to it—”

“And Ned,” Ned says to himself. “You will be there every step of the way.”

Tony looks at Peter, and he wants to apologize. For all of it, for being a hero at all, for the goddamn radioactive spider at Oscorp and everything that came after. For stupid morons like Quentin Beck, who know the quickest way to hurt Tony is to attack this kid he’s nearly adopted as his own.

He doesn’t know what the hell to say, because Peter wouldn’t accept his apologies anyway. He never would. Peter is just appreciative of every moment. Even if the moments aren’t ideal.

“We’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” Tony says. “How about we have a pie bar when we head back down there? I can tip the kitchen staff two hundred percent when I ask. I don’t think anybody would be pissed off.”

He sees May smiling softly at him over Peter’s shoulder. Trust in her eyes, even after all this bullshit.

“Can there be…at least four key limes?” Peter asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Four or five,” Tony says, ruffling his hair. “Or six or seven. Depending on the number of ovens in the joint.”

Peter grins at him, still bright and lively, despite everything.

Maybe they can salvage this vacation yet.

#iron dad #iron man #irondad #irondad fic #marvel fic #peter parker #spider-man #tony stark #iron dad fic #works by iron_spider

[bendydudeinc]

Hello, it’s bendydude absolutely wasted and thinking about Atsushi in heat and fucking me senseless with the prompt “keep your eyes on me.”

Inspired off of:

Please bear with me uh

Atsushi x AFAB nonbinary reader

Warnings: smutty smut smut breeding kink, praising / I have a voice kink, …..slight daddy kink? I get called baby, mutt I think, and shit something else accidentally just deleted it

Not really proof read !

I claw onto his back to try and ground myself, legs locked at the ankles around his waist and head thrown back onto the pillows. I’ll probably be sore tomorrow from all the manhandling. He snaps his hips harshly against mine in response, growling quietly in my ear. He trails his fangs teasingly over my neck, letting the tips drag into my skin and leave red marks, then, sinking them into my skin. He had summoned his tigers arms and legs to give him more control and power behind his thrusts, and man forgets his own damn strength I stg. He grips my hips hard, keeping me at that angle that makes me start to cry from how overwhelming it is, his cock completely destroying my insides. He gasps, letting out a loud choked moan, crying into the crook of my neck as he cums hard inside of me, slamming his hips against mine one last time and growling as my walls clench around him. I lost count how many times both of us had cum after 5.

And oh man- his beautiful sounds and whines-

“F-fuck yeah! *pant* Take it! Take my cum! gonna- *pant* fill you up baby…fill you up so pretty..”

He has the tiger dwelling inside of him to thank for his almost unnatural stamina during heat. He kept his dick inside of me, definitely not done yet. He watches with a grin as I pant and tremble, legs feeling like they might just fall off. And just when I think I may be getting a real break, he sees the mark he left on my neck with his fangs, and lightly runs his finger across it. I whimper his name in broken syllables, eyes glistening, and he goes crazy again. I gasp and whine in overstimulation as he slowly starts to thrust again.

“Jus- one more? Please baby~? G-gotta, ngh! Gotta make sure you’re nice and stuffed~”

He bends me so my back is arched farther, and I swear I mewl at the way his dick nudges past what I thought possible. My eyes roll back and close in ecstasy. A deep tone from Atsushi snaps me back to his gaze as his thrusts become frantic yet again. His tiger claws dig into my thigh and his other hand grips my chin to make me look back at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” His yellow eyes glow, staring deep into mine, as if reading my soul. I nod, liking the idea of seeing my boyfriends feral expressions as he fucks me full. And that, he does. His cock twitches as he grabs both of my legs, pushing them up slowly to the sides of my head and thrusting again before I have time to be surprised. We both cry out in pleasure, and he smirks as he watches my face contort in bliss.

But oh, HIS face would be magnificent.

He whimpers again and again through clenched teeth as his eyebrows furrow in. He rests his forehead on mine and moans out, cursing loudly. He’s close again. He starts a brutal pace, gripping my ankles tightly and practically folding me. My gaze turns hazy as I stare up at the pussy drunk man in heat above me. I feel my face turning red as we make the lewdest faces at each other. The quick, slap slap slap slap of our cum meeting between our hips being the only thing almost as loud as our moans. He hisses, holding onto his orgasm and snaking a hand down, rubbing a pad against my clit. Im seeing stars, screaming as he forces me to continue facing him when we cum together.

We’re both a panting mess. He’s collapsed on top of me, giving his tiger form a rest as I plant a kiss on his nose, cheek, and forehead. Then, one gently on his lips. He smiles softly, staring down at my lips before capturing them in a slow, passionate kiss that has me squirming under him.

“Fuck. Kiss me like that again and we’re going again honey.”

I grin, “I think we both know we’re going again anyway.”

#atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima #atsushi smut #bsd atsushi #atsushi x y/n #atsushi headcanons #beast atsushi #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #Spotify

[foreverindreamlandd]

Paddles and Purists

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Librarian!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Summary: Steve begrudgingly goes with Dustin to drop off severely overdue books, but when he sees you lingering between the shelves, he quickly realizes that libraries aren't as lame as he thought. But can he keep his favorite librarian safe when Hawkins is under attack a third time?

Warnings: Canon level violence, mentions of blood, takes place before and during season 3 (with a few plot points/timelines muddled about because fanfic lol).

Note: This fic was inspired by Nat's amazing prompt here! I am completely gone for this man it's ridiculous.

------

JANUARY

“Listen Henderson,” Steve started, getting out of the car and resting his arm on top as he waited for his friend to gather his things, “I know that we’re buddies and all now, but you do realize that being seen here is going to hurt my already fragile cool status at Hawkins?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Harrington. You’re literally hanging out with a thirteen year-old. Your cool status is on the floor buddy.” He pulled his backpack over his shoulder. “Besides, I need whatever smooth moves you have left to sweet talk Marissa into forgiving me for borrowing those books in the fall.”

Steve’s left eyebrow shot up. “You mean the ones you stole-”

“For the last time I did not steal them! I just needed them for the curiosity voyage! I needed my paddles, Steve! And now that we fought and defeated the Demodogs, I can return my paddles.”

He turned and headed toward the Hawkins Library, ignoring Steve as he rolled his eyes and followed behind.

“This kid,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

Dustin’s steps slowed as he walked inside, hesitant to meet the wrath of Marissa. He kept his gaze on the books the two of them passed.

Steve didn’t care about the books, though. His attention was completely and unapologetically on you.

You were in the corner of the children’s section, handing a book to a young boy with a smile on your face that outshined the sun. The boy jumped to give you a hug and your laugh traveled all the way down Steve’s body.

“Marissa doesn’t seem so bad,” he whispered to Dustin with an awestruck smile.

Dustin looked over at you as you walked to the front desk. “Oh thank god,” he breathed, quickly walking over to you. “Y/n!” he called out.

Oh, Steve thought. This isn’t Marissa then. 

You looked up when you heard Dustin called your name and glared.

It was the fiercest, cutest look Steve had ever seen.

“Henderson,” you said, looking around the open room and over your shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here? Marissa is going to be back from lunch any minute and she is out for your head after the shi- stuff you pulled in October.”

“But my paddles-”

“You know the lame paddles metaphor doesn’t work on me, bud.” You sighed, arms leaning on the desk as you whispered, “Look, if you have the books, I can try to say that they had been misshelved and this was all some big misunderstanding. Do you have them with you?”

Dustin nodded, pulling out his bag and digging for the various textbooks. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/n. I’m naming my firstborn after you.”

You giggled, and the sound was so amazing that Steve started chuckling himself.

Your eyes flashed to him and his laughter died on his throat, and his face suddenly burned.

“Who’s your friend, Henderson?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Steve.

Steve stood straight, clearing his throat and holding out a hand while giving you his best, swoonworthy smile.

“I’m Steve Harrington.”

Your brows shot up, and Steve watched as you bit the inside of your cheek and he suddenly wished that he could crawl into the Upside Down and never emerge because of how unimpressed you were by his moves.

Still, you took his hand and shook it. The feel of your skin against his was electric.

“Steve Harrington, I’m Y/n.” You looked over at Dustin. “Aren’t you too old for a babysitter?”

Both of them groaned. “He’s not my babysitter-”

“More like his chauffeur,” Steve muttered, and the corners of your lips twitched. He shrugged. “We’re buds.”

You softened at that, giving Steve a genuine smile that made him melt. “Well, nice to meet you, Steve. Are you a reader?”

His immediate reaction was to lie in order to impress you, but he had a feeling you’d be able to read through his bullshit.

“Only when forced, and even then, not really,” he replied sheepishly.

He braced himself for judgment from you, whether it be a disappointed scoff, or a you’re such a loser cackle.

Instead, your smile widened and you bit your bottom lip.

“I bet we can change that.”

MARCH

Dustin plopped his finished books on the counter, a satisfied grin on his face as Marissa scowled.

“See?” he said, gesturing at the pile. “All five safely returned! Again!”

“You’re not going to win me over that easily, Dustin,” she said, taking the pile.

“Someday,” Dustin said, then ran off to find his next round of tomes.

Steve, on the other hand, kept his one book in hand as he walked by the shelves, scanning the area for the other librarian.

He stopped short once he got to the history section, smiling as he watched you carrying a massive stack of books in one hand, balancing it under your chin as you shelved one of the books.

You were standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out as you reached up to one of the higher shelves. At first it seemed like you had everything under control.

Then, the stack in your hand wobbled, and your eyes widened as they started tipping over-

Steve jumped forward, grabbing the stack from you and securing it in his arms.

You gasped from the smooth, fluid motion, staring up at him in surprise.

“Harrington,” you breathed out a relieved laugh. “Good catch.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, well, after years of being the star athlete of Hawkins, I better have great reflexes.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

A chuckle. “Nah, if I really wanted to impress you,” he lifted up the stack of books, “I would go home and spend the weekend reading these bad boys.”

Your nose scrunched in disgust. “That would be quite the feat, even for me Harrington. I’m more of a fiction girl myself.”

You tried to make a move to grab the stack but Steve just shook his head, so instead you just grabbed the book at the top, turning to the shelves and running your fingers over the spines until you found its proper home.

It was such a small, seemingly insignificant gesture, but Steve found himself mesmerized by the tenderness of your fingertips as they touched each book, as if you were handing precious jewels.

“I finished Hitchhiker’s Guide, by the way,” he said after a few moments of silence.

Your eyes lit up as you turned to him. “And?”

He nodded. “It was good! Gotta admit I got lost during a few moments, but overall I liked it.”

“Totally fair. I had to reread it a few times to fully understand some parts. It sure gets wild.”

“I’d definitely read it again. Kind of wish it was a movie, too. That would be wild.”

“Well,” you said, taking another book to the shelf, “I don’t know about a movie, but they did make a tv show a few years back.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “What! How did I miss that?”

“Probably all that athlete stuff you were doing,” you said, smile widening.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Alright, sassypants. Well, is it worth the watch?”

You shrugged. “Not sure, I never saw it.”

Steve barked out a laugh loud enough for you to whip your head around at him, clamping your hand over his mouth. 

The two of you went wide-eyed at the sudden and unexpected contact and you pulled away as soon as the realization of what you had done sank in. Your eyes then averted from his as you looked around for any angry glares from the loud noise.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just can’t believe you just gave me shi- crap about not seeing it when you haven’t either!”

You scoffed. “What? Maybe I’m a purist who believes the book will always be better!”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Steve’s lips turned downward. “We could….find out together?”

There was a pause as you shelved the next book, and Steve wondered if he had taken your witty banter too far, misreading the situation.

But when you turned to look at him, there was a light in your eyes that made his heart flutter.

“I’d be down for that.”

JUNE 

“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” you said as you approached the kid’s section, crossing your arms at the man sitting on the U.S. map rug reading a picture book.

Steve looked up at you with feigned annoyance. “Can you wait a second, please? I gotta find out what the hell this brown bear sees.”

“Harrington, you know you’re welcome to join me at storytime any Saturday morning you’d like. I’m sure it’s been lonely since Dustin left for science camp.”

He frowned, closing the book and standing up. “I’m not lonely!” he lied. “How can I be lonely when I have a million books and a stellar librarian to keep me company?”

You shrugged. “Or maybe it’s that you’ve now found better things to do and more interesting people to hang out with?” Though you were joking, he could hear the hurt in your voice. “Maybe that’s why you haven’t been here in months.”

Steve’s eyes widened, guilt and shame washing through him. “What? No way! I just-” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, Y/n. Shit- stuff with my parents haven’t been great and I had to get a job at the new mall and….” now I’m just some loser.

“Hey,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tried not to make a big deal about you touching him so as to not scare you off, and luckily, it worked. “It’s okay, Steve. Life happens. The books will always be here when you need them.”

He cocked an eyebrow up and smiled at the meaning behind your words. “Well, I’m grateful for the books’ support.”

A sudden boldness that Steve had not felt in months washed over him and he rested his hand over yours, squeezing it gently.

You smiled.

“Alright, Harrington, are you finished with the bear yet? I have a whole pile of books I’ve been saving for you…” 

JULY

Steve’s eye felt like it was going to pop out of its socket.

When he first got beat to shit in the underground Russian lab, the pain as numbed due to the adrenaline rush, replaced quickly by the crazy truth serum shit they injected into him and Robin.

Now, as the drugs slowly left his system, he began to feel the pain pulsing through his body.

But he couldn’t focus on that right now. He needed to focus on keeping his legs moving as he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica ran full speed down the streets of Hawkins.

“We gotta hide somewhere!” Robin said in between curses.

“The library!” Dustin offered. “It’s not far-”

“No,” Steve growled, shooting a glare at his friend.

Henderson sighed. “Look, Harrington, it’s the closest thing we got! Besides, it closed hours ago. No one will be there.”

Steve read between the lines of what the twerp was saying. You wouldn’t be there.

It was still too dangerous. He didn’t want any of this to go anywhere near any part of your life if he could help it. “If it’s closed, that means it’s locked. So we can’t get in anyway!”

“Not a problem. I’ve broken in multiple times.”

Steve groaned. “What do you mean you’ve broken into the library-”

“PADDLES STEVE. FOR THE PADDLES!” 

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let his friends get hurt any more than they already had, and an the Mindflayer army was readying an invasion through Hawkins any moment.

His brain was going fuzzy again from exhaustion and pain, and he had no more strength to fight.

“Fine.”

They continued down the streets, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for any approaching danger. Luckily, the coast seemed clear.

Until they made it to the main road where the library was, and Steve felt his heart stop mid-beat as they all scrambled to hide behind one of the buildings. 

He leaned over to look at the three figures on the other end of the street walking toward the library, bodies moving almost unnaturally, the expressions on their faces borderline lifeless.

Marissa was at the helm.

Panic rushed through him like a tidal wave.

Why would Marissa be heading towards a supposedly empty building?

Unless it wasn’t empty….

Steve turned to Dustin. “We need to get in there. Now.”

Dustin nodded. “Back door. Follow me.”

They crept behind the buildings until they reached the library. Dustin pulled out a key from his bag - because apparently he had a key to the library somehow- and unlocked it.

The door slowly opened with an aged creak to a dimly lit office space.

Steve stormed in, whipping his head around frantically as he looked for you.

“Stay in the office, run if shit goes down,” he said to the group before opening the office door.

He made his way into the library itself, jumping between shelves.

“Hello?” you called out, a hint of fear in your voice and Steve almost let out a whimper.

“Y/n!” he followed your voice to the classics section and didn’t stop until you were a foot in front of him.

“Steve, what the hell happened to you?” Your eyes widened and a hand reached up to his swollen eye.

He shook his head, hands grasping your arms as his eyes bore into yours.

“You need to go. Right now. It isn’t safe.”

“Steve we need to get you to a hospital-”

“We can’t-” the panic was unrelenting. “Please, Y/n. Please you can’t be here I need to get you out of here I need you to be safe-”

“Steve, breathe,” you whispered, caging his face in your hands. You took a deep breath in and out, wordlessly telling him to do the same.

He took one breath in-

BANG

The two of you jumped as the entrance door slammed open, Steve covering your mouth before you could scream. He pulled you deeper into the shelves.

“Ohhhhh Y/n,” Marissa called as if coaxing a cat from underneath the bed. “Where are you?”

You let out the tiniest cry, muffled by Steve’s hand. His other arm wrapped around your waist as he clung to you, ready to pull or push you wherever you needed to go in order to be safe.

Marissa’s voice echoed through the room as she continued, and Steve used it as a path to escape. As her voice went left, you went right. She came closer, you moved back.

“I just wanted to have a little chat. I just met the most interesting people. They’ve got some big ideas and dreams that you might really like. Doesn’t take that much to join.”

You and Steve were close to the entrance now. He looked over the corner of a shelf, his hand securely around yours.

Marissa was gone.

“All it costs is your soul,” the possessed librarian said from right behind him. He whirled around just as she wrapped her arm around your throat, you gasping while she ripped you away from him.

Steve moved to jump to your aid, but was suddenly restrained by the two large men Marissa had been walking with.

“Y/N!,” he screamed, using every ounce of strength to try and pull away. One of the guys punched him in the stomach and he keeled over.

“STEVE,” you screamed back, arm extending out toward him. Marissa slammed your body against one of the shelves, hand wrapping around your neck as she lifted you in the air with superhuman strength.

“Now, now, Y/n,” Marissa cooed, head cocking to the side as a smile crept up her face. “You know the rules. No. Yelling-”

The guys holding Steve back let out a simultaneous oof as their hold on him loosened and they fell to the ground. Steve looked at Robin, Erica, and Dustin, who were holding those large busts usually displayed at the desk.

And then, he launched himself at Marissa, slamming his body into hers. The momentum knocked her off her feet and onto the ground, and you fell back against the shelf, gasping for air.

Marissa growled, standing up and crashing her fist into Steve’s jaw. He fell onto his back with a groan and she took the opportunity to straddle his waist and wrap both hands around his neck and squeezing with all her might.

“Well if it isn’t Steve Harrington,” she hissed, her eyes nearly black. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble with the boss trying to keep these kids safe over the years. He’d love it if I took care of the problem by killing you now-”

A thunk echoed in the library as Marissa’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the side, unconscious.

Steve turned from her to see you standing over him, panting from adrenaline, a giant history book in your hand like a weapon.

He scrambled up to standing as you dropped the book. “Are you oka-”

His question was cut off as you lunged forward, crashing your lips to his.

Steve hissed in pain.

You pulled back in horror. “I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

His hands wrapped around your face and he smiled. “Nononowaitwaitwait,” he murmured as he pulled your mouth back till it connected with his.

A small sigh left your body as you leaned into him, and Steve felt like he was floating. 

When he finally pulled back, his eyes opened slowly, expression dreamlike.

Your eyes, however, were still wide and you bit your bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” you said again, softly this time. “I just…nothing like an unexpected near death experience to make you finally have the balls to kiss the guy you like.”

Steve chuckled, forehead leaning against yours. “Well, I hope it won’t take another near death experience for you to do it again. You can kiss me anytime you like.”

You smiled. “Really?”

He kissed you again in response.

“Uh, guys?” Dustin whined from behind as he continued kissing you. “Can we go back to saving the world again?”

AUGUST

Steve strolled into the library, plastic bag in hand.

As per usual, instead of being at your station at the front desk, he found you helping a group of young students pick out their last summer reads before school started.

He leaned against the desk, arms crossed as he watched you with a content smile on his face. It never got old, the joy spread across your face doing the things you loved most.

Nothing beat the way your smile grew as you looked up to see him there, the brightness in your eyes somehow becoming brighter. 

The way you scrunched your nose when he winked at you.

You handed the last student their book and patted them on the shoulder before walking over to him. He was about to say hello when you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the empty reference section, pushing him against the spines and leaning in for a deep, head spinning kiss.

“Man,” he said when you pulled away, the two of you a bit breathless. “I had no idea libraries were this much fun.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly slapping his chest. “Did you get the goods?”

He held up the plastic bag. “The first season of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Surprisingly easy to get my hands on, seeing that it apparently hasn’t been checked out in years.”

You shook your head. “Some people are such purists,” you muttered before pulling Steve’s smiling lips back to yours.

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Thank you for reading! :)

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #librarian!reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction

[flametrashira]

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!reader.

Summary: An ongoing friends to lovers slow burn between Captain Levi Ackerman and a medic reader.

Chapter warnings: Titans, peril, reader in danger

Taglist: @hiraethsdesires @alexkibutsuji @raginginferno267

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Over the Wall

Wall Rose damn near blocks out the entire sky as the squad approaches her base. No matter how long he’s lived on the surface, the scale of the world is a wonder. He was an adult before he truly saw the extent of the sky or felt the weather and the seasons change. Nearly two decades later, he still finds himself awestruck. 

The squad is nowhere near a gateway, so the only option is to use one of the unmanned Garrison lifts to get the team and the horses up and over. It’s a task which always makes him uneasy. If the lift got stuck with the horses loaded up there, they’d be screwed.

Short of using Eren’s head as a mallet to smack the shit out of the mechanism he doesn’t know what he’d do.

Since Connie and Christa are the lightest members of the team and use the least amount of gas, he has them stay back to operate the lift. Then they use their ODM gear to join the rest of the squad once the horses are unloaded on top of the wall. It’s just a case of reversing the process on the other side then. Easy. 

“You okay?” you ask, standing close beside him on the slow descent into titan territory. 

“Yeah…” You’re practically chest-to-chest with each other, your breath faintly warm against his neck in the cool morning air. With nine horses on the lift there isn’t a whole lot of personal space. Not that he really has any right to insist on it after last night, or any inclination to for that matter. Not when it comes to you.

God, he can’t believe he woke up snuggling you. He’s never done that in his life, with anyone… never thought he needed it. But apparently his subconscious had other plans. In that brief moment before waking fully, he’d felt so good, so comfortable and safe. 

Your mouth slants slightly as your eyes meet his. Sometimes he’s convinced you can read his mind; that you know he’s thinking about this morning and how well he slept beside you.There’s a heavy sort of pressure in his chest; perhaps nerves about the mission or… maybe the lift. Once they get off this damn thing he’ll probably feel better. 

“We’re going to be fine,” you say. “Nine going out, nine coming back. We’ll make sure of it.”

You know him better than anyone and always know whether he needs quiet reassurance or gentle teasing to get him out of his own head. But there’s a lot you don’t know; things he worries might put distance between you. You don’t know much about his childhood or adolescence, only that he grew up in the underground city and that things weren’t always as peachy as slogging across the titan-infested surface. 

You also don’t know what he keeps in his left breast pocket, the little good luck charm he’s kept there for the past five years. And honestly, he knows you as well as you know him but he still isn’t sure how you’d react if you knew. Hell, you might not even remember giving him the cornflower the day he felt as though he couldn’t keep fighting. But he kept it, pressed it dry, and folded it in the paper confirming your transfer to his squad.

He clears his throat and gets out of his thoughts. “All of you keep a lookout. Until we get to the trees we’re not going to be able to use our ODM gear efficiently. Our best defense right now is avoiding the big, ugly bastards altogether.” He doesn’t need to say any of it. The squad have been out here enough times that they know the drill by heart. But it’s almost a ritual at this point, as if the simple act of telling them to be careful will somehow prevent anything from happening to them all. 

They reach the ground and Connie and Christa join the rest of them. 

But Levi doesn't give the order to move out… not yet. “Sasha? You hear anything?”

The girl shakes her head, her big brown eyes wide with anticipation as they lead their horse out onto the field. Her hearing is so good it’s almost creepy. 

Connie's, on the other hand, is terrible, but the idiot still puts his hands around his ears and listens with slack-jawed intensity. "I don't hear anything either."

It appears they're safe for now, and at present, that's all they can hope for. “Alright, let’s get a move on.” 

He leads the charge, followed by the thunderous rumble of hooves and snorting horses’ breath. It isn't long before your group encounters their first titan; a three-meter which Mikasa quickly disposes of. They’re few and far between out here in the open but his gut tells him that once they reach Eiche there will be more. It always seems as though they gather around built-up areas, perhaps smelling the lingering traces of humanity even in the long abandoned villages. 

Your presence at his side draws his attention as your horse gallops level with his. At first he assumes you’re riding beside him to speak, so he turns his head to face you. His stomach lunges. The wind ruffles through your hair and blows out your green cloak as you ride. He knows you’ve always found a strange sort of joy at being out here in the open, titans be damned. You flourish under the open sky like a flower finally allowed sunlight to bloom. 

For a moment he lets himself imagine that this is all normal; that the two of you are charging out into the vast world without a care, free to live however you please. The determined look in your eyes cracks when you glance toward him and smile, and an unfamiliar lightness flutters in his chest.

Dammit, why is he so jittery all of a sudden? You’ve ridden out with him so many times; he knows it isn’t rational. You’re competent, experienced, you’ve trained as hard as anyone. But you being here with him causes as much anxiety as it does comfort. In times like this, all he can do is trust his instinct, and right now it’s telling him to keep you close, to do everything he can to keep you safe.

It’s around an hour before sunset by the time Eiche finally comes into view; a small farming village, half ruined by a combination of titans and looters during the early days of evacuation.

 “Alright,” Levi says, addressing the whole squad. Be on the lookout; we don’t know what’s waiting for us out here. We’ll do a lap of the perimeter to assess the situation, then Mikasa and I will head up the chapel’s bell tower to get a vantage point, take out the big ones, and grab the document. The rest of you spread out. We don’t want to attract the titans by clumping together. There are plenty of alleyways and obstacles for the smaller ones to ambush from so stay alert. Take out as many as you can so we can get the fuck out of here once we have the paperwork. Understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Eren answers, eager to get started. Damn kid. 

Glancing toward you, he meets your gaze for a moment. He sees it all; your anticipation, your anxiety, your faith in him. He can only hope it isn’t misplaced, but he’ll do what he can. He always does.

The squad splits into two groups on the approach to pincer around the village. Of course you’re at his side; that doesn’t even need to be discussed. You stick by each other habitually, heading counter clockwise. And as you ride on the outside of the formation, he can’t help but notice the way the sun shines behind you, how the light dances across your features and catches in your eyes when you meet his gaze. That uncomfortable weight in his chest returns.

Focus. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“Captain!”

His heart lunges as someone– Jean– calls out. There’s no time to hesitate as a six-meter titan crashes through a nearby wall, showering the party in rubble. That familiar burning drive ignites, firing through every cell of his body as he turns in the saddle and leaps through the air toward the grinning monstrosity. Fight. Protect. Kill. That’s all he knows, all that propels him as he streaks through the air and slashes at the titan’s nape. Steam hisses as blood showers over him, evaporating the moments after it touches his skin. 

It’s a small mercy that titan blood doesn’t last long after they’re dead. Still, he never quite feels clean even after it has vanished. 

Another titan barrels toward him, ungainly with its enormous head flopping around on an underdeveloped neck. The hiss of the squad’s gas tanks surrounds him as the kids take to the air, ready to fight and do whatever it takes. Another titan appears, and another, and another. He can only hope you’ve withdrawn as the fighting continues; a seemingly never ending horde of grotesque, uncanny giants.

Levi fights; it’s all he knows, it’s the reason for his damned existence. Whether it’s for food, turf, dignity, or survival, Levi has always fought and he always will. The battlefield is where he belongs, not curled up and comfortable in bed beside you. War is familiar… the feeling he has when he looks at you, that terrifies him more than any titan. 

But Levi never learns. Time and time again he’s let himself relax and get close, made friends, cherished comrades. And time and time again he’s watched the people he cares about die in the most horrific ways imaginable. 

He can’t let that happen with you. 

He can’t. 

He lands on a rooftop, buying himself a moment to survey the scene and ensure you’re nowhere near this madness, when he hears a blood-curdling cry. It’s a sound he’s heard a thousand times from a thousand different scouts. A cry of desperation and ultimate fear which sounds more animal than human. The world stands still. His blood runs cold. 

Jean. 

Two titans have him, one on his left, the other on his right, their grinning mouths drawing ever closer, ready to tear him in two and devour him.

Levi’s killer instinct kicks in, his reflexes honed from countless battles as he charges off the rooftop and swings between the houses, propelling himself forward toward the kid. 

It isn’t enough. There isn’t enough time to cover the distance. Every instinct is telling him he won’t make it. Jean is going to die. He knows it. 

The blood drains from his chest at the realization that he’s going to witness it again. The endless cycle of crying children devoured by monsters. 

Not again not again not again!

Levi’s heart nearly bursts from his chest as he sees you swoop between the two titans, slicing through their arms with both blades, sending Jean plummeting ten meters to the ground. Fuck, he could kiss you.

Hope surges and shatters in the same second as a titan's jaws snap shut. 

Around you.

----------------------

Next chapter

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #aot levi #captain levi x reader #levi attack on titan #attack on titan levi #captain levi #slow burn #slow build #aot

[808airsoftbros]

My Girlfriend is a Mafia Boss Pt.III (Shen Xiaoting)

Author: To check out more of my stories you can take a look at my Masterlist

Xiaoting’s POV

Once I’ve gathered all of my best guys into my office, I briefed them all of their mission, and their objectives. At first, they were surprised to find out that I’m hiring them to kidnap a simple boy for the sake of his safety.

“Are you sure this is necessary, madam? He’s just a boy,” One of my men questioned.

“I’m paying you all to do a job, not ask questions. Is that understood?” I sternly asked and he nodded.

“Welp, as long we’re getting paid, who cares?” One of the men mentioned and I grinned.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you, but remember I want him alive, and if I find a single scratch on him, I’ll deduct half of your shares,” I warned and they nodded.

Leaving my office, I looked at the photo that I took of Y/N while we were eating at the restaurant yesterday.

I don’t know what came over me when I first saw him at the grocery store, something about him drew my attention, and I felt the need to protect him from all dangers of society.

Please forgive me, Y/N, but this is for your own good...

Y/N’s POV

Yet another boring shift at the store as it was very slow because it wasn’t a busy hour as mostly everyone was working.

Taking this free time to work on the back stock, there was little to do there as the shelves were full and I didn’t want to cram them or else I’ll look ugly.

Anyway, I sat in the back out of camera range going through Instagram on my phone to pass the time.

That was until I heard multiple footsteps walking inside the back but I paid no mind as it was probably my co-workers... Or so I thought.

Glancing up, I got a glimpse of a group of men wearing trenchcoats and sunglasses and they were walking around like they were searching for something or someone.

“Fan out! Once you’ve got visual confirmation of the package, call us, and will converge to your position!” One of them ordered and they split up.

Shit looks like they’re seeking something and they do not look friendly at all. Hiding behind one of the shelves in the warehouse and I see a man examining the area.

“Hmm... No sign of the target here, moving on,” The man confirmed and left me alone making me sigh in relief.

Peeping out of the shelve to make sure the coast was clear, I quietly get out of the shelve and head to the nearest fire exit.

Unfortunately, the fire exit was closed to two of the thugs keeping a sharp eye out, so I needed to create a distraction or find some sort of weapon.

Looking around the warehouse for any objects I could improvise as a weapon, I examine the tool drawer and grabbed the hammer.

“Yes, now I might stand a chance,” I said to myself.

“Hey, stop right there!” I heard a man bark and I turned around to face the man.

“You’re coming with me!” He said and I swung the hammer at his head.

The impact of the hammer made him crash into one of the shelves making all the can goods collapse onto his body.

Making a run for it, I was stopped by two more thugs this time armed with brace knuckles.

“Hold on, we cannot hurt him, not even a scratch, you heard what the boss said, right?” He asked and he sighed.

“Fine, but this better be worth all of the trouble!” He replied.

The boss? Who the hell are they talking about? I didn’t do anything to anyone so why are they sending thugs to kidnap me?

Anyway, I swing the hammer all over the place and they backed away at a safe distance and I continued to run.

“Stop him!” One of the men yelled.

Bursting through the fire exit, the fire alarm automatically went off grabbing the attention of everyone including the thugs pursuing me.

Fucking hell, I gotta lose them or else God knows what’s going to happen to me if they catch me.

Taking the car keys out of my pocket, I unlock the car, got inside the driver's seat insert the key into the ignition switch but the damn rust bucket wasn’t starting.

“Start you pile of shite!” I yelled as I kept turning the key.

However, it was no use as the windows busted open as the thugs swung a baseball bat at the window and dragged me out of the car.

“Enough games, kid... Tie him up,” He ordered and the men tied my arms and legs.

They carried me to their van, opened the back doors, and threw me in the back. I started to fear for my life as it was over and I wondered what I did to deserve this.

Hearing the engine turn on, we were on our way to who knows where, probably someplace that is far from civilization.

“Good call sabotaging the engine. Otherwise, we would have to charge the boss more,” I heard them.

“Haha! Piece of cake and easy money grab,” He replied.

Damn, so that’s why my car wouldn’t start in the first place because one of them must’ve done something to the engine.

About twenty minutes later, the van stops, I heard the men step out of the vehicle and open the doors.

One of them dragged me out of the back, untied my ankles allowing me to walk, and they harshly pushed me signaling me to get moving.

Following the group of thugs to what appears to be a luxury mansion surrounded by a garden and a security gate.

The leader goes up to the gate and hits the doorbell, the security camera focuses on him and the gates open.

Greeting us, was another group of men dressed in all black, wearing security earpieces, and sunglasses as one of them held a briefcase.

“Hand over the package,” The guard ordered.

“Nu-uh, money first,” The thug replied.

The guard holding the briefcase comes forward, unlocks the hatches revealing millions of won to verify it was all legit, and closes it.

“If that’s enough assurance, hand him over, and will take it from here,” The guard ordered and the thug pushed me towards them.

The guard hands over the briefcase full of money to them and shuts the gate in front of them.

“This way, Mister Kim,” The guard directed and I followed him.

Walking through the garden, it was well kept, and surely whoever the owner is, must be hella rich.

Once we reached the entrance, the standing guards opens the door for us, and we walk through.

I was mesmerized by how fancy this place looked, chandeliers, maids working in the mansion, and of course a staircase.

We walked up the stairs, passed by many doors that lead to all sorts of rooms I assume, until we reached a double door.

The guards opened the door, gestured for me to go inside, and I did what they say as there were no escape routes.

At first glance, it was a huge office, there was a fireplace, bookshelves, and even a large window giving a view of the garden outside.

“Please have a seat,” A feminine voice said.

Taking a seat in front of the strange dark figure sitting in the shadows, I was deeply unsettled as to what this woman has planned for me.

“I hoped my hired bodies didn’t leave a mark on you bringing you here... Did they?” She creepily asked and I gulped.

“N-No, I’m perfectly fine,” I answered.

“Great, now that’s out of the way, next would introducing ourselves, but won’t be necessary in this case... Right, Y/N?” She asked as she came into the sunlight revealing her figure.

“N-Noona?! Y-You did this?!” I exclaimed and she giggled.

“Yes, I did, but it was the only way to keep you from harm's way of my rivals, it was my fault to drag you into this situation, I should’ve known that those scumbags are always watching me and I was certain that they about you so I’m taking responsibility for my mistakes by bringing you here for protection.” She explained.

“W-Why from them? What are you?” I frantically asked.

“Because... I’m the boss of the biggest mafia clan in the entire country! Many want me dead so they can take my place and have all of the power to themselves. I have enough manpower to start my criminal empire and not even the government can’t stop me since they’re so easy to bribe.” She answered and my eye widened.

“N-No way! You’re lying!” I accused and she scoffed.

“Ever heard of the notorious criminal, the Death Angel?” She asked and I nodded.

“Y-Yeah, it’s all over the news,” I answered.

“Well, you just so happened to be talking to her~,” She replied as she reveals the tattoo on her chest and it’s the same one that I saw on the news.

“I-Impossible...” I softly said and she sighed.

“Right, I’m sure this is a lot to take in so will things slowly but for now, I promise you will be safe here as long as you do exactly as I said, understand, darling~?” She asked and I gulped.

#Shen Xiaoting #xiaoting #kep1er Xiaoting #kep1er scenarios #kep1er #kpop #kpopidol #kpop yandere #Kpop yandere oneshot #x male reader #bxg #kpop oneshot #yandere

[din-miller]

To Be Without You

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gn!Reader

Word count: 715

Summary: Comfortember day twelve – dreams

Warnings: nightmares, mention of child death, hurt/comfort

A/N: you can’t get Comfortember without pain. That’s my justification for this. Also this is a day late by 13 minutes and that’s because I spent the usual three hours trying to name this shit.

You’ve been here before, on this desert wasteland, air dry and lungs full of sand, but it wasn’t like this last time. You weren’t staring down at the broken bodies of your husband and son.

No, they didn’t die then, before, you had saved them. So why are you screaming for them to wake up? Begging for them to open their eyes, pleading with the Maker to take you instead.

No, they hadn’t died that day.

So why does this feel so real?

Then, after a heartbeat, Din’s yelling your name but his lips are closed and cold. Blue like the beach you got married on.

The yelling became louder, more persistent, more determined and you closed your eyes, letting your mind focus on the words circling the air around you.

Arms wrapped around you, strong and unwavering and you don’t understand how you’re being comforted when there’s no one around you.

The arms tighten and your eyes fly open, four walls surrounding you; a soft white, nothing like the red specks across the desert sand.

“Cyar’ika you need to breathe.”

It’s Din again. His lips are open as words flow out of them, mute to your ears but they look nothing like the cold ones burned on the back of your eyelids for decades to come.

But look is not enough, no you need to feel the warmth. Which is what you do, the desperate reassurance has Din gasping in surprise, body flying back onto the bed and you wasted no time crawling on top of him.

He lets you lead the kiss, understanding that you need this. You let the anguish inside you bleed into his mouth, letting it mix with the love he’s pouring into you.

It’s enough.

Din pulled back but the warmth of him never left as his forehead touched yours, “We’re all okay. Whatever you saw, we’ll get through it I promise.”

You believe him. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this dream and you know it won’t be the last. You fold yourself against his chest, matching the slow breathing pace he’s set for you. In and out, in and out, once more before a horror creeps up your body and settles in your mind, stealing all the air in your lungs, “Where’s Grogu?!”

“In his room,” Din sweeps his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears you don’t remember letting fall, “I’ll bring him to sleep with us once you calm down.”

“No, no I need to see him now!”

Din sighed but didn't try to put up a fight with you. He’d lose and you both know it. He kept you tucked against his chest as he sat both of you up, “Do you want to bring him in here or should I set up the pull out couch in his room?”

His arms don’t let go of you as you leave the bed and mumble into his shirt, “His room. I don’t think I can sleep in our bed right now, it’s too much.”

“Okay, I’ll set up the futon for us.” Din said softly, guiding you to your son's room.

You don’t fight off his hands but you do shake your head, “You should go back to our bed. It’s better for your back.”

Din huffed, almost offended, “I’m not leaving you.”

You’re first to enter Grogu’s room, needing so desperately to see him alive, unharmed. You crouched down beside his bed, careful not to wake him as Din started setting up the futon for the night.

“Hey,” Din whispered, hand landing on your shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion, “The beds set up.”

“He’s so tiny,” You whispered back, tears building back up but you won’t allow them to fall, “I always forget how tiny he actually is.”

“Knowing our little guy he’s probably bigger than most kids his age,” Din pressed a kiss to his tiny green head and then did the same to yours, “You need to sleep, cyar’ika.”

His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you to the bed as he held you protectively against his chest, letting you breathe in the scent of his person and the soft chamomile that fills Grogu’s room.

“Don’t let go?” You asked.

“Never.” He promised.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x gender neutral reader #grogu included fic #justice joy writes #tw child death #married couple | the mandalorian #din is my original husband and it’s a shame I haven’t posted more fics #tbh they are all wips currently #comfortember

[rxgirlie]

The Girl Next Door part VII

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: dubious content, affairs, sexual content, alcohol consumption, my improper use of commas, JFK references (a warning within itself)

A/N: I can’t remember who posted that photo up there^ but BLESS! Up until this point, this entire fic has been a slow burn. I hope everyone had fun while it lasted because it’s finally about to kick off. Big thanks to @vivalafae for talking me off the ledge multiple times while writing this chapter and @runningwiththefoxes for being the love of my life. Also, there’s a cutesy little playlist I made for this entire shit show, if anyone is interested in it, lemme know.

WC: 2539

I became more delusional the further we drove. Each mile marker was an omen, a declaration of how removed I was from real life. Our premeditation personified when he insisted I leave my car parked at the university after class on Friday.

“It’ll look weird if we leave together with multiple bags,” He told me. He was right, after all, but the notion still didn’t put me at ease.

The more secretive he became about our destination, the antsier I became.

“I don’t like surprises,” I told him as I gazed out the passenger’s window.

“Lighten up, Olive,” his hand on my inner thigh squeezed reassuringly, bunching my dress up even further under his fingertips, “just trust me.”

Trusting him was also easier said than done, but I did it with the type of ease that made me feel gullible, diminutive. Like I had folded myself up into delicate pieces to fit into the intricate, hollow spaces containing all the lies I had told and would tell in his name.

Nevertheless, he drove on, and so too did my desire for him, stretching endlessly like the highway laid out before us.

By the time we arrived in town, four whole hours later, I was content to continue spinning the web.

A fly does not struggle in a web in which its very wish was to get caught.

“I used to come here every summer with my parents before they divorced,” I told him, my wide eyes reflecting back to me through the window as I realized we were in Cape Cod.

“We’re going to Hyannis,” he said, squeezing my thigh as he continued to drive.

“To live out your Kennedy fantasy?”

“Which one are you referring to?” He glanced over at me with an impish grin, “The one where my brains are blown out of my skull or the one where I veer off this bridge up here and land in the pond?”

He jerked the wheel to the right, his car veering dangerously close to the edge of the road before realigning the wheel, crossing a small bridge as I grabbed onto his forearm, my mouth agape in a silent scream.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” I dug my nails into the tender flesh of his forearm to solidify my point.

“Can you swim, Olive?”

_________________________________________

“It’s beautiful.”

Settled on a bank directly overlooking the sea with unfiltered access to the beach, I stood back and took the house in with all its charm. Snowball hydrangeas teetered in the breeze, accenting the yard and picket fences, adding softness to the gray cedar siding. In typical New England fashion, the house was weather worn, but warm and inviting nonetheless. White adirondack chairs formed around a dining table on the concrete patio, only a few feet away from the entryway of the house.

“I used to think this place was a mansion when I was a kid.” He said as he came over to unlock the door.

He opened it, inviting me inside.

The house was swathed in navy blue linens, neutral shades, and pale pastels throughout, giving it a pop of warmth amongst the white planked walls. The living room and adjoining kitchen was bathed in natural light from the surrounding colonial style windows, spilling onto the natural wood floor, shining blindingly into my eyes as I made a right down a long hallway.

“Last door on the left,” He said from his place behind me, but I kept walking, stopping long enough to run my hands across the markings on the first door frame I passed.

‘JM’ and ‘JA’ had been etched in pencil along the door’s frame ranging from midway up my thigh, spanning to above my eyeline. A simple two digit year was beside every entry.

“Are you JM or JA?” I turned back to look at him as he made his way up to inspect the markings.

“JM.”

“Jeryd Motherfucker,” I joked and he looked at me with a grin.

“It’s French.”

I only nodded in response, running my fingertips along the scattered pieces of driftwood that hung along the hall’s narrow walls as I sought out the bedroom I would be sleeping in.

The bedroom was functional and simple, its shaker furniture characteristic of the quintessential New England style. A four poster bed sat against the far right wall under a bare window, a bookshelf directly across it on the opposing wall, with a dresser nestled into an alcove beside the windows leading out to a stunning view of the coastline.

“What a view,” I mused as my fingertips danced across the windowpane.

“Yeah,” He walked up to join at my side, never taking his eyes off mine, “What a view.”

_________________________________________

The rest of the day was spent in town, perusing the little shops that littered Main Street, fighting through tourist sludge, and a quick trip to a local market to pick up non-perishable necessities. It felt normal and fun doing such casual things with him. For a while I was oblivious to anything but the pleasure of being with him.

He chose Pain D'Avignon for dinner. We drank Belgian beer on the intimate patio, people watching, until my Dutch courage kicked in, willing my curious nature to take the lead.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Here, to the restaurant,” He asked, stopping long enough to take a pull from his pint, “or to Hyannis?”

“Hyannis.”

“Don’t question my motives, Olive,” he lowered his eyes at me, “Can we have dinner without an interrogation?”

“Sure,” I sat back in my seat and nodded, “Whatever you want.”

His eyes sparkled like crystalline snow, more gray than blue at that particular moment, possibly due to the beam of sun that had broken through a small sliver between two buildings across the street. I surmised, though, they reacted to my giving him the reins to do whatever he pleased.

At some point, after a hearty serving of Wellfleet oysters, I lost all interest in questioning his motives.

We both watched curiously as a small boy, no more than three, picked up a glob of cotton candy pink ice cream from its cone, lobbing it directly at his mother as they crossed the street away from us.

“We used to be able to sit and enjoy each other , too.” His mother looked over at Jeryd and I, laughing sarcastically as she combed her fingers through the sticky concoction leaking from her blonde curls. She grabbed the ice cream cone, now covered in fingerprints, and tossed it in the garbage can a few feet from us. All the while her kid screamed bloody murder as he was dragged away by, what I assumed, were his older siblings.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” She offered us a genuine smile and rejoined her clan.

“I don’t know if I’m fit for that type of nightmare,” he laughed, tossing his napkin on the table.

“Kids are gross,” I laughed out and he nodded in agreement.

“And codependent,” He added.

“I guess that’s why I’m an only child.”

“Surely you couldn’t have been that awful of a child, Liv.”

“There was no real reason for them to try for perfection a second time when they got so close the first time around.” I flashed him a big smile, and he reached across the table, dragging the palm of his hand down my forehead, slender fingers down the bridge of my nose, gripping my chin with a delicate squeeze.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a good dad,” I offered, obviously on my way to being drunk because why else would I have said something so out of pocket?

“You don’t know that much about me.” He eyed me over the rim of his glass as he finished his beer.

“I guess I don’t.”

I realized then and there that it would never just be dinner with him. My internal monologue would always fire on all cylinders, leaving me musing to myself about a future with him, his past, and everything between where we sat now and where we would go in the future. His mother’s words fueled my delusions even further, nowhere was safe, every place leading back to what she had said days prior. It was never just dinner. Every place led back to his arms, to his grasp. Him still virtually a stranger throughout, where I stood, open and transparent, ready to be sought out and read, cover to cover. Oftentimes I found myself desiring to be the painter instead of the muse. Thus, it was easy to see a future with him. To imagine things far beyond my scope. But it’s always easier to not see the forest for the trees, isn’t it?

“Where’d you go just then?” He asked, bringing me plummeting back down to earth.

He reached across the table, seeking out my balled up fist.

I hesitated, eventually unfurling my palm to him.

“Why are you so scared to touch me, Olive?”

His fingers danced across my palm, his nails following the trails of the deeply etched lines.

“I’m not scared to touch you.” A lie if I had ever told one. All I did was lie. But it came so easily when I was looking at him. That in itself should’ve scared me away. But it didn’t. It never did. Never would.

“What do you want from me?” I asked him.

He angled his head to the side, an inquisitorial look painting his features as his lips pulled into a smile.

“What do you want to give me?”

“You say that as if I have a choice in the matter,” I laughed dryly, pulling my hand back from him like a scolded child.

_________________________________________

A subdued energy overtook me once we were back in the cottage and I walked on eggshells contemplating what would come next.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth like I normally would that time of night, alone with myself and my thoughts just long enough to realize the gravity of the situation and let it all come crashing back down on me. Nothing like looking in the mirror and seeing the problem staring back at you.

When I exited the bathroom, he trapped me between his body and the wall, looking down at me like prey caught in a trap.

“You have a choice,” He grasped at the halter strap tied intricately at my neck, unwrapping me like a gift from the neck down.

“Do I?” I wriggled to accommodate him as he slid the dress down my stomach and over my hips.

He nodded down at me, grasping my jaw to tilt my head up to him.

“Everyone has a choice.” He worked my mouth open with his, enough for his tongue to find solace as it tangled with mine.

He broke away long enough to speak with his tinged sarcasm, “What’s your excuse going to be tomorrow?” He asked, “‘I was drunk.’” Parroting back the words I had said to him the night I embarrassingly apologized for kissing him in his car.

“I’m not sorry.” I looked up at him, reaching down to grasp onto his collar. “I wasn’t sorry then and I’m not sorry now.”

“Maybe I’ll be sorry tomorrow,” I shook my head and looked down, feeling transparent and small under his gaze, “Maybe I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life, I don’t know.”

He grasped my chin, pulling my face back up to look at him. We were still for a brief second, staring at one another as if we could read each other’s minds.

He was quick to hoist me up by the back of my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, and we bounced around the hallway, my fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck as we did a dance of sorts through the narrow hall and into the bedroom.

When he laid me out on the bed, I leaned up towards him, practically tearing him out of his clothes. He took his time undressing me, exploring every inch of my body as he removed the remnants of my dress. Each time I’d rise off the bed to touch him, to graze my hand across his chest, he would press me back into the mattress with a smirk. He went down and pulled off my panties as he kissed around my navel and teased my inner thighs with his lean fingers. Just when I least expected it, he dipped his head low, licking a stripe through my folds, never taking his eyes off mine.

I took a deep breath and laced my fingers into his while he worked his tongue, exploring places I had never imagined him. My other hand raked through his scalp, pressing him further into my cunt.

He came up for air as I felt myself on the precipice of an orgasm, crawling his way up my body to hover over me. When he kissed me, I tasted myself mixed with a flavor that was unmistakably him.

I wrapped my legs around him, letting my body follow his lead as he pressed himself into me. Usually he was quick and relentless upon entry, but that night, he took his time filling in gaps, touching places he had never been before, places he had never seen.

A sort of unfettered pleasure transpired between us. One born from pure, unbridled lust between two people who knew right from wrong, but chose the latter because burning out simply felt better than fading away.

He moved his hands over my lower back and ass, grasping for purchase, driving himself further and further into me. I laid there, clinging to him for dear life, as I plummeted into an intense orgasm. For a while, it was hard to discern where one began and the other ended. We melted together, and each time his face would end up in the crook of my neck, moaning and groaning into the sensitive skin, I would nod along, pressing chaste kisses to the side of his head and into his hairline.

That night, I would lose all sense of fear in regards to him. I would, instead, get lost in his sea blue eyes, the light freckles that littered his cheeks and chest, the scar on his chin. I would watch closely as his shoulders flexed with each thrust, my hands roaming over his flesh with amazement as his body worked its way into mine. The tiny part of me that longed for normalcy, a foundation in which I could build from, got tucked away when he pulled back to look at me with his icy blues. The intensity was there, it would never fade, but a longing that I finally understood and felt deeply myself, shone through then.

He drug the palm of his hand down my forehead, pointer finger down the bridge of my nose, crescendoing with a tender kiss on my lips.

I fell in love at the tender age of twenty-two, in Hyannis, at a cottage by the sea, under the weight of a married man. It was simultaneously one of the best and worst things that I would ever do in my entire life.

Tag list: @aurorag98

#jeryd mencken #jeryd mencken x oc #jeryd mencken fic #jeryd mencken fanfiction #jeryd mencken x ofc #jeryd mencken x original female character #justin kirk

[bestworstcase]

Do you get the feeling WBY are just dead weight at this point? It feels like they sped through their arcs too quickly and don’t know what to do with them anymore.

i mean this in the most neutral possible way but you know the social phenomenon where people perceive women as dominating the conversation if they’re contributing more than about a third of the actual talking? because we’re constantly inundated by cultural messaging that devalues what women have to say and consequently develop subconscious biases that distort our perceptions because our brains are horrible buggy meat computers?

and you know the thing where if you’re, say, really hungry you suddenly see advertisements for restaurants everywhere, again because our brains are horrible buggy meat computers and we, in a very literal sense, see what we look for?

and you know inattentional blindness?

horrible. buggy. meat. computers.

anyway, the point is this:

rwby v1-8 is structured, narratively, around ruby rose being cast into a role—the hero, the ideal huntress, the silver-eyed warrior, the beacon of hope—and then stagnating there for, again, eight entire volumes of slow boil as the pressure built up bit by bit. and nobody noticed, because ruby had been put on a pedestal and ruby was also really good at acting the part, right up until she wasn’t and the pressure cooker exploded in v9.

meanwhile, ruby’s teammates spent v1-8 undertaking monumental journeys of personal growth and self-discovery across those eight entire volumes while ruby stagnated on her pedestal. and then for the first half of v9, they kept on keeping on and looked back on how far they’d come and affirmed their senses of identity and glanced nervously at the clusterfuck of fears and failures waiting for them back on remnant and then the ticking time bomb of ruby rose exploded in their faces with almost zero warning.

their character arcs in v9 weren’t wrapped up so much as they were unfurled to achieve maximum shredding by the narrative shrapnel of ruby abruptly having, like, eight entire volumes worth of repressed character arc erupt like fucking krakatoa. it only feels like wby getting shelved because it subverts the narrative expectation developed in v1-8, wherein ruby was fairly static (because all of her character development was happening down, not forward) in juxtaposition to the dramatic changes her teammates underwent. v9 is ruby catching up to wby and wby running full tilt face-first into the brick wall of oh shit ruby is not okay.

this is one of the major components of the narrative turning point; all of team rwby is on a more or less level plane now as far as where they’re at in their character arcs, and importantly wby have been made to confront their reliance on ruby and consequent harm. the path ahead is about figuring out the new normal and dealing with all the things that were NOT dealt with in the ever after—namely oobleck’s question (no, that is what you do! i want to know why you do it!) which was evoked but pointedly not answered during the mountain glenn reprise in 9.4.

and speaking of the mountain glenn reprise—to drive this home—remember how such a particular point is made of highlighting that ruby doesn’t get questioned on why she wants to be a huntress? and how she’s consequently left out of wby’s talk about what being a huntress means to them and the gap between their expectations and reality? this divide is echoed in 9.4, of course, through ruby’s inability to articulate what she is or what she wants to be. but there’s a second, more important character beat for ruby that also gets reprised in 9.4

what does a huntress do, the herbalist asks, and ruby says “fight… monsters, i guess?”

i want to be a huntress, says ruby in the very first episode, and ozpin replies, clarifies that, defines it as, “you want to slay monsters?”

and then it took eight entire volumes for somebody to confront ruby with the idea that she’s allowed to be more than that.