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wandasfavreal · 1 month

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Endless

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been studying and doing your homework all day without breaks, worrying Wanda a bit. And once you act up due to the pent up stress, she makes you take it back.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader, dom/sub, fingering(r receiving), edging, spanking, humiliation & degradation, she’s so mean :((( but we love it

Noon came early as you sat on the couch, eyes fixated on the screen in front of you. You’ve been sitting there with your back arched in a terrible posture for hours, typing away on the computer situated on your lap. Every now and then you huffed out in irritation for not coming up with ideas quick enough to fit the minimal time you had left for this specific assignment. Luckily, it was due the next day and you had that sudden motivational rush that usually wouldn’t have come until the last minute. But of course you were still stressed for doing it so late when you previously had two weeks.

Your girlfriend, Wanda, was sitting beside you, reading over some of the emails on her phone as she found the sound of your keys being pushed down almost every second help ease her mind. However, she only felt that way when you first began this homework session… 5 hours ago.

For so long, she watched your concentrated expression with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth as your eyes barely blinked. Sure she could never get tired at looking at you, but seeing you in this state of pretty much rotting as you sat made her worried and uneasy. Wanda set her phone down beside her once she finished replying. She then sat up, facing and looking at you in a small attempt to get your attention.

You still didn’t notice her, despite the movements from her causing the couch to shift you as well and slightly shake the screen your eyes were glued to. Her arm stretched across as her hand comfortingly grasped your thigh. Sighing loudly, she spoke, “Honey, why don’t you get up and walk around or something? Or atleast go to the bathroom?”

Your head perked up as you heard her voice. “What? I’m fine, I’m almost like more than halfway done with this,” you replied, dismissing her and only moving your head back down to return to the engrossed writing. Her words went in one ear and out the other. Wanda wore a sullen expression since you’d usually always listen to her. So trying again, she softly rubbed your skin with her thumb.

“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. You’ll finish it in time with a small break.”

This time as she spoke to you with a silky tone, she was only met with more vexatious typing and the side of your face. The response irked Wanda as you completely ignored her, so deciding to take matters in her own hands, she stood up before her fingers made its way to the edge of the device and pushed the screen down. Then swiftly taking a hold and lightly tossing it to the other side of the couch out of your reach. It happened all so quickly that you couldn’t have even move your tired body to prevent it.

“Wanda, what the hell? I told you I was almost done,” you said as your voice rose, looking up at her with glower. She returned the look as the way you spoke made her feel worse about the situation. She tilted her head to the side, responding to you in a deep undertone.

“Almost done? You said that like an hour ago too.”

“Ok well whatever, just let me-“

“Fix your attitude before you talk to me,” Wanda interrupted you, her voice also rising and her mouth slightly gaped in disbelief because of your behavior. You’ve never really talked back before, so this was an utter shock to her. She noticed you cower a bit and become quiet upon hearing her scold, and it only made her want to take it further. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Just listen to me,” she said, aggressively yanking you up by the arm and dragging you through the house to your shared bedroom. You helplessly followed Wanda into the room before getting pushed onto the bed as she slammed the door. “Take off your clothes.”

Afraid of what she’d do if you didn’t listen, you did as she said. Wanda sat at the edge of the bed next to you with a glare, and waited for you to be done stripping. Once you were bare, she immediately got ahold of you, and roughly pulled you onto her. “Face down on my lap.”

Again, you listened, positioning yourself across her lap as your backend was faced up to her. You nervously looked back at her, wondering what she wanted to do with you… or to you. Soon enough she spoke, only staring at your tense body instead of your face. “You’re such a brat today… thinking you know what’s best for you. Do you think you can tell me right now what I should do to you?”

You turn your head back forward, ashamed to look at her. “I… I don’t know,” you timidly respond. Wanda found it amusing, how your voice shifted so quickly and easily once she had you.

“Of course you don’t. Your dumb little head can’t even think straight. Which is why mommy has to do all the work for you huh?”

You blushed profusely as you looked down, your mind becoming fuzzy already, and you squirmed slightly as she called herself that name. Wanda looked over to you, only to be met with the back of your head. She reached with one hand to make you turn, a loose grip on your face as she squished your cheeks a bit. “You think 30 is fair?”

The question obviously pointed you to the direction that she meant spanking, and you couldn’t help but pout. You nodded slowly, accepting your fate. And the moment you signaled yes, you squeaked as there was a quick slap to your bottom.

“Count for me.”

—————-

As you progressed to finishing 30 hits, each one became worst. You weren’t sure if it was Wanda intentionally going harder, or if it was just your ass becoming more sensitive. You shakily mumbled out every number as you let out small yelps, trying your best to not miscount and have to possibly start over. However, you couldn’t help but become aroused from the pain too. And Wanda noticed that.

Your final spank caused you to cry out, gripping onto the sheets beneath you. “Mm! T-Thirty…” you felt her hand begin to rub your heated flesh, soothing it as it stung. You caught up with your breathing, tiredly resting your head on your arm as Wanda kept her hands on you. It became oddly silent besides your small pants. Waiting for her to say something, you looked back again, this time seeing her look further down with a dark look in her eyes.

“Did you get off from me spanking you?”

The question caught you off guard and made your face heat up. She then took her hand that was closest to your end to your center, gently pressing her fingers against the warm soaked area. It made you gasp shortly, and Wanda’s following words didn’t make the fuzzy feeling in you any better.

“You’re so wet, and from what? Mommy hurting you?”

You whined as she teased your pussy, probing your entrance yet not fully going in. Being desperate, you wanted to agree and convince her of giving you what you wanted, but embarrassment filled you as she spoke to you that way. “N-No…”

She smiled tightly at you, letting one finger slip in and making you moan aloud. “So what did?” She continued asking, focused on the way your pretty hole swallowed her finger. You didn’t respond, not knowing how to as you already denied the truth. Another finger went into your wet cunt and made your head pathetically fall down against the mattress as your jaw fell.

Wanda took note of your silence, letting you off the hook for now. Her fingers moved incredibly slow for your taste. You began to squirm, making her to pull out and slap your ass again. Another cry came out of you. “Stop moving,” she sternly said. You listened with a sad look, only for her to put them back in you with that same torturous pace.

“Mommy…” you whined slightly, turning your head so your cheek rested on the comforter as you looked up at her. Your face had an adorable frown, your eyebrows pulled upward together. Wanda looked down at it, and the corner of her soft pink lips came up.

“What? You want me to go faster?”

“Mhm…” you responded, nodding your head shamefully. She still didn’t go faster though, just stared at you with a certain look as if she expected to hear something. Your brows raised as you realized and corrected yourself with a meek voice, “Please mommy.

She then quickened her movements, enjoying the way your body reacted to her. With your arms in front of you, you buried your face into the crevice of a limb, between the arm and forearm, as you moaned and breathed heavily. Her fingers pistoned into you, curling from time to time and hitting that spongey spot within you. You got louder and it wasn’t long until you needed to cum, especially since you were so turned on from both the spanking and the way Wanda talked to you. As if you were just a dumb little toy to her.

Wanda kept going, never once faltering until she felt your walls tightening around her. She looked over at you again, tearing her eyes away from the view of your pussy she loved so much. “Aw are you close baby?” She questions, sounding a lot more like her usual soft self. You nodded eagerly in response, your moans getting higher pitched. “Well hold it,” she spoke blatantly, the previous tone coming back in seconds. Despite her words, she didn’t let up her fingers pounding into you, as if she wanted to see you break and cum without her permission.

“M-Mommy, no i can’t- please,” you reply with a weak voice. Your body laid over her lap still, due to her other hand’s increasingly harsh grip to your side. But letting go, she trailed across your back and down to your chest, cupping your breast before squeezing roughly. The action made you even more dizzy, fisting the sheets once again. Wanting to cum so badly you got closer and closer to that euphoric feeling without thinking of the consequences up until Wanda pulled out of you swiftly. You mewled as she slapped you again, this time directly to your drenched cunt.

“You poor thing… can’t even listen to me. Just a selfish little whore.”

Your stomach couldn’t help but flutter hearing her vile words after hitting you repeatedly. And immediately after, she thrusted back into you, and your orgasm built up again. You attempted to push your hips back for her to stay inside and apply more pressure. The act had you shakily reach an arm behind you towards Wanda’s hand, trying to get a hold of it desperately to remain in your pussy, leading to her grabbing it aggressively and pinning it down against you back. She did keep herself inside though, just not moving a single muscle. Even as you got what you wished for, it felt even worst than being empty. Your tight walls squeezed around her, trying to milk out any sort of pleasure, but it was futile and your climax flowed away.

Wanda continued and every time she denied you, your hole ached more and you wailed from the growing pain of needing her. She kept this up for what felt like hours, over and over and… over again. It was endless.

By your sixth one, you grew more submissive with your clouded head and mindless begging. Tears tried to dry on your cheeks, but more just kept coming out. “T-Too much mommy… it hurts…” you whimpered as she hit a nerve inside your sensitive walls another time.

“Yeah? It’s too much for you? Too much for your needy little pussy?” She continued, her voice faking pity as her expression mocked yours. Her lip pouted while her brows furrowed, an innocent look for someone who was spilling such dirty words into your ears. For the past six edges she kept that contradiction going. Yet, you found it so attractive.

Her voice rang in your ears as the gasping and unsteady intake of air was becoming more intense. You clenched your teeth before opening your mouth and biting on your wrist instead to muffle your sounds and focus on the pain anywhere else but the area Wanda fucked. As she noticed you doing so, she reached out with her free hand to grasp your reddened face again, the force on your cheeks a lot harder now as you stopped sinking your teeth in your skin. She tapped on one side of your face to make you look at her. “You wanna cum?

“Please, please mommy- wan cum so bad for you,” you hiccuped, responding as quickly as you could. You looked up at her with those pleading eyes, glossed over from all the constant denial and spanks. Your body was burning from need.

She smiled sickly, tilting her head before saying, “I’ll let you if you tell me the truth… admit you love getting spanked by me and that you got wet from it.” Her voice dripped with sweetness in spite of what she was really saying. You whined once more, embarrassed and flushed at the thought of saying something like that aloud.

“But that’s-“

“Hurry before I change my mind and leave you like this.”

With a sheepish and red-faced expression, you shyly mumbled within Wanda’s hold, still feeling her fingers hit your favorite spot. “I-I love it when you spank me mommy, I love it so much…” Your eyes then shut as she suddenly jammed inside, seemingly lost control of herself from how you obeyed and just said it so prettily.

“Uh-huh, good girl…” she praised, looking between where you were taking her and your cute flustered face which soon scrunched up as your orgasm was finally going to be given to you. Wanda felt your walls trap her digits inside again. The tight feeling made her groan and slam into you harder. “Mhm, keep going baby.”

“I got wet from you hurting me mommy.. mm! P-Please mommy please M’ so close,” you stammered, no longer caring about what you were saying, just so incredibly needy. All you wanted was to please Wanda and release the pent up feeling within your shaking body. Wanda looked down at you with an open mouth, turned on with how obedient you were being now.

“There you go, princess. So so good for me… you can cum now. Yeah, cum all over mommy’s hand,” she cooed, going impossibly harder and curling at your g-spot. With her permission, you squealed and finally let go. Your body spasmed as heat traveled through and made you feel bundles of nerves bursting. Needing to hold onto her, one hand came down and gripped onto her leg.

She bit her bottom lip, finding the scene in front of her so hot. Her little girl sobbing into the sheets, cumming as your body was covered in marks from her inflicted pain. She loved it.

As you came down from your high, small pants and whimpers fell from your lips. Wanda’s hand soothingly rubbed your back, calming you down more. You turned to face her and saw how heart eyed she was. She smiled down at you before helping you get up as she lifted you from her lap. You pushed yourself up shakily with your arms and got to your knees beside her. The two of you shared a look as both set of eyes glanced down her stained thigh. You embarrassed, looked away until you heard a small laugh coming from the woman.

“Come here sweetie,” she said softly as her gentle gestures pushed you to get on her lap again, except now straddling her. Her hand was to your ass again, lightly pressing into it but still making you hiss from the sting. “How are you feeling?” She asked with a loving tone matching her expression.

“I’m okay mommy…” you replied quietly, feeling a little nervous under her stare. She grinned at you, cupping one side of your face, and kissing you in a gradual manner. You reciprocated the kiss, moaning against her lips which was curved upward still.

“See? Not so stressed anymore now, huh?” She questioned once her face pulled away. You pouted at the removal, but then frowned as guilt rushed through you from the reminder of earlier when you had upset her. You nodded your head timidly to her question until your eyes parted away from hers and muttered.

“I’m sorry…” you apologized. And even though your voice was barely loud enough for Wanda to hear, she knew what you were saying. Her hand from your bottom moved up to your waist as the other one gently moved to your face to signal you to look at her.

“Look at me when you speak,” she sweetly ordered, her voice lingering in your hazy mind. Your eyes came up to directly make eye contact. Her beautiful light green eyes softened, taking in your adorable state.

“I’m sorry for talking back and not listening mommy,” you repeated with a slightly pursed lip. You shifted on top of her a bit too.

“It’s okay, I know you were just trying to do your work,” she starts, gently applying pressure to your side. “And you’ll still finish before it’s due, don’t worry. You’re my best girl.” She leans up to peck your nose, making you melt from the cute action and reassurance. You shyly smiled and wrapped your arms around her neck, kissing her again. You loved how she was being, now not worried about anything except being good for her from now on. Though, you wouldn’t mind misbehaving once in while for a punishment you loved.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #lesbian #mommy!wanda #elizabeth olsen #top!wanda #please please please #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you

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praisethesuuun · 10 months

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First of all, I would like to say that I love your art! 🥺💕

Second, can I request how Buddha, Poseidon, and Hades would react if the (gn) reader teases them under the table in the middle of the gods meeting? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Thanks in advance because I know I'm going to love what you're going to write.🛐

You're really sweet anon☀️❤️ comments like this really melts my heart and lights up my rainy days💞 I really hope I did a good job, sorry if it's not good🙏

RoR characters being teased by their s/o under the table!

BUDDHA

🍬Okay, Buddha really didn't want to go to that meeting. But you forced him to go: it's been some time now that you've had the intention of spicing up your love life, something more risky, exciting. Buddha knows how to be lazy when he wants and often you have to keep the libido high, it was time to teach him a good lesson.

🍬Buddha always sits in the back, dark seats whenever the gods have one of their big gatherings: he doesn't want to stand out and wants to nibble on his snacks in peace. But not that day...poor Buddha didn't even know what he was getting into...

🍬You sat on his lap, your place of honor, eating a candy you'd stolen from your lover without showing up. Buddha wasn't entirely interested: he kept yawning, throwing some paper at the head of the minor deities, in short, the usual. But not for long. It wasn't too long before you shifted your position to straddle him directly. "What are you doing, bunny?" he will ask you, intrigued.

🍬His response came when your hips started to move slightly, using the excuse of getting comfortable. For a second, Buddha's eyes darted around him to see if anyone was watching, and then he thanked himself for choosing a fairly secluded spot; so, she decided to relax and let you do it, even though it was nearly impossible to hold back the moans.

🍬"Little bunny...someone may see us..." he whispers in your ear, breath hot and short against your skin. But in reality, he didn't mind being caught, on the contrary, perhaps the idea of being seen would prompt him to give the gods one last slap in the face, bragging about his fun with a grin, as his hands rest lazily on your hips.

POSEIDON

🌊The Zeus of the Sea had already left the temple annoyed: meetings between the gods were never one of his favorite ways to spend the day, especially if it meant enduring the shouts of the noisiest deities. You too seemed bored, especially given the judgment that others had of you, being a nymph and not a diety.

🌊Boredom was starting to set in, which wasn't showing up on the other Olympian deities, too busy arguing and gossiping among themselves to notice your arm moving slowly up and down under the table.

🌊Poseidon, sitting next to you, had his eyes closed, beautifully ignoring your soft hands wrapped around his penis; all he thought about was how long it will finish before you get tired. If you ignore her she will get tired, right? No, not this time.

🌊Your fingers danced gracefully, taking their time as they went up and down, again and again. Poseidon kept his eyes closed so as not to open wide them wide and glare at you, but what the hell were you even thinking? He hated performing romantic acts in public, even less sexual acts, but if he stopped you, the others would surely find out something's wrong.

🌊Once you return to his temple, as punishment the god won't even touch you with a finger, waiting for you to crawl back to him with an apology worthy of your crime. "Next time think about it twice, I won't repeat myself"

HADES

💀Hades sat serious, ethereal and focused on his throne. His gaze moved to everyone present, while he let his little brother Zeus take the reins of the meeting. The lords of Olympus had gathered as usual to discuss their realms; you and your husband had arrived early and Hades was about to turn around, before seeing his wife dive under the table.

💀He didn't even have time to ask you what you were doing, that the door of the huge hall swung completely open, announcing the entry of his precious brothers. Hades was shocked, but he pulled himself together instantly, sitting in his seat without saying anything to avoid embarrassing you. So, the king of the Underworld just decided to roll with it.

💀Everything was going well, at least until Hades felt the zipper of his pants come down. The god looked down, halfway between furious and frustrated, stiffening as your glittering eyes met his. He blushed noticeably as your lips began to leave soft kisses on his crotch and boxers, making him shiver slightly in anticipation.

💀"Brother Hades, are you all right?" asked Zeus, unaware of the other's difficulty in keeping silent. The king of Hellheim was biting his tongue, his cheeks were red and his breathing heavy, a light sigh sucked from his lips every time your lips massaged his cock; always leaving a trail of kisses behind. "Absolutely, dear brother..."

💀At the end of the meeting, Hades will forcefully pull you out from under the table, lay you down on the table and grab your wrists. His breathing heavy and his eyes misty with lust. "Did you enjoy yourself, little one? Such a cute face, but we'll have to work on that attitude of yours...bad ones deserves a punishment..."

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gloomwitchwrites · 28 days

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Just Like Dad (1 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad

Word Count: 890

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad

“Daddy.”

A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.

“It’s for school.”

It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”

Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.

Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”

She groans. “But it’s about you!”

Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.

“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.

“You know my name.”

She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn��t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.

“Job,” she says, expectant.

Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.

“Military,” he answers.

She frowns. “How do you spell that?”

“Sound it out.”

She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.

Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.

When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”

Explain. Explain.

Explain…what?

That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?

How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.

Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”

She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”

Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”

She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.

“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.

She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”

Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.

She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”

“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”

“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.

Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.

Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?

“Daddy.”

Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.

He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”

“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.

Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.

“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.

“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”

Simon drags you in for a kiss.

“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.

“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.

You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”

“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”

“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”

“Had to wash it.”

Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.

It’s because she doesn’t know.

No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

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literallydontknowdontcare · 6 months

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idk if you’ve done this already bc all the vanessa fics r merging together in my brain, but maybe smtg where she has a very stressful day at work, and needs to take her anger out in a healthy way (by doing the reader!!!)

Taking It Out On You

a/n: I love this prompt but I was on a certain sleepy drug when writing (I'm sick as hell right now) so I have no idea if this is good LOL. Anyway, exams are officially over so MORE FICS! YAY! And thanks for the love recently, you all are amazing :) Enjoy!

Content/Warning: smut, choking, pussy slapping, fingering [all r receiving], exhausted/pissed off Vanessa, handcuff use, gun used on you to get you off, you being a good baker, side note I love the Elizabeth lail edits recently

w/c: 2304

You swayed your hips to the radio. Recently, there was more 80s music than new age, which you weren’t complaining about; sure, you missed hearing the newly hyped singer Miss Britney Spears, but even you had to admit Tears for Fears had a kick to it. Kneading into the last of the cookie dough, you conveniently hear the rumble of Vanessa's police vehicle pulling up to your shared home. Smiling, you pause the music, swiping off the flour that dusted the white countertops onto your apron just as the engine outside slows to a halt. The bench is now fairly clean, you wait eagerly as you see the faint outline of your girlfriend emerging from the car through the window.

The front door clicks open. You hear Vanessa’s footsteps thud a lot less carefully; usually, she would sneak up behind you from wherever you were in the house. She gradually got better at it, too, her dangerous job teaching her a thing or two. It was unlike her to come home after a long shift careless, thudding her jacket and gear on the ground before pressing herself behind you. She inhaled the scent of your freshly washed hair, groaning.

“Bad day?”, you ask, grabbing the pan of unbaked goods and placing them into the oven, Vanessa moving with you so she didn’t have to remove her grasp around you. She huffed as a reply. As you stood back up, she whipped you around, momentarily giving you whiplash. You took in her expression for the first time; her eyes were essentially dead, her pressed lips giving the smallest of indications that she was happy to be home as she attempted a smile when your eyes met.

“It was... Definitely a day”, she sighed. You tilted your head, lifting your hands to cup her face.

“Want to talk about it?”, you prod gently. It seemed that Vanessa was experiencing harder rosters more frequently than before: you presumed it was the pressure of her father, whom she almost never talked about, getting to her. Vanessa simply stared behind you at the oven, her dull eyes beginning to twinkle. “Chocolate chip?”, she questioned, avoiding your query.

You bit your lip and nodded. Her eyes met yours again and you pushed your face closer to hers, not quite reaching her lips but certainly leaving the possibility. Maintaining eye contact, you reach behind her head and softly pull on the hairtie of her ponytail, letting her short, blonde hair loose. She fluttered her eyes closed, groaning. You slide your fingers through the strands of her hair, pulling on them slightly to release any tension. Vanessa inhaled deeply. Pressing your lips against her jaw, you start to pepper her face with small kisses when you feel her take her hands off you, to your dismay.

*Shuffle shuffle*

Vanessa fiddled with her police belt, something that made your groin twist deliciously just from the sound of it. It usually meant one of two things: either she was about to take it off and with it her pants, or she was about to use something *from her belt*. As you attempt to part your lips from her face, she cuts you off.

“Don’t look”, she retorts. As much as you’d like to disobey those orders, there was no way you wanted to be her day even shittier. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you rest your head against her neck as you feel her take something off her belt. Smirking, she raises the object up to your stomach, pressing it deep into your flesh. You gasp and jump back, the coolness startling you. Before you could look down, she spun you around, slamming you against the sink. You whine, your knuckles gripping onto the counter. Vanessa returned to your behind in a flash, grinding her front against you. Disappointingly, you couldn’t feel a strap underneath her pants. You huff, which she notices immediately.

Grabbing onto your neck with a force that startled you, she brought you up so that you were standing straight up as opposed to being bent over. “With what I’m about to do to you, we won’t be needing my cock, baby”, she growled, her hand beginning to tighten around the sides of your neck. You gasp out, your hands rising to your neck to ease the grip, only to be yanked away behind you.

“Vanessa”, you cautioned, unsure of what she was getting at. You heard the jangle of the metal cuffs and froze. “You wanted to help me, yeah?”, she sang sweetly. “Baking me something, cleaning up the front of the house for me”, regarding the time you spent earlier today reorganizing and decorating the place for winter to make it homier.

“You want to make me feel good?”

You don’t hesitate to answer. “Always”

“Then let me use you”. You hear the clank of the cuffs being closed around your hands tightly, Vanessa's leg coming up between your legs that you opened just for her. “Let me see you come with my gun in your mouth”. At that sentence alone, you couldn’t help but let out a moan, jolting your hips involuntarily down on the thigh she had graciously given you. She laughed darkly behind you, removing herself completely from you, making you cry out and turn around to face her. You already missed her manicured hand that fit so perfectly around your neck, acting like a necklace you wished you could always have.

“Couch, baby”, Vanessa demanded, allowing herself to watch you as you made your way out of the room; God, you being in her handcuffs with a vacant, submissive look in your eyes made her want to double down on being rough with you. She followed you soon after, the only thing missing from her outfit being the cuffs that were around your hands and the gun... That was being held so confidently in Vanessa's right hand.

You shifted from your position on the couch, unsure. She laid it beside you, her mouth twitching at your confusion, before climbing on top of you to straddle your waist. She slammed her lips onto yours passionately, hot saliva mixing on both lips. Your moans gradually got louder as her hands attached to the back of your head, roughly pulling at your hair. Vanessa bites your lip harshly, grinning as you try to back away. Her hands leave your hair and begin to forcefully strip your pants from your body. Parting your lips from hers, you lift your legs up to assist her. The soft warm light from the living room lamp perfectly accentuated each other's features; Vanessa's eyes were completely focused on you, taking your sticky panties and flushed cheeks.

“Top off”, she leaned back, watching you rush to meet her demand, smirking as you fumbled with the buttons of your shirt. Now being completely naked, your skimpy bra and underwear being the only things covering your very aroused parts, she spread your thighs with an air of smugness.

“Vanessa”, you pout, jerking your pussy up. She trailed a slim finger along the top of your briefs, pulling them down slowly. Your breasts rise and fall rapidly at the sensuality of it all: the relaxed pace made you even more blushed. Moving her fingers around your folds, you lean your head back, closing your eyes in pleasure. Suddenly, Vanessa slapped at your pussy. Crying out, you snap your head back up and shut your legs. She didn’t like that. Narrowing her eyes, she yanked them back open, harshly slapping the inner side. “Keep them open. Don’t make me tie up your legs as well”. You squirm as she rubs her middle and ring finger quickly on your puffy clit, mewing out loud at the vulgar noises she was creating.

“So sweet like this, hm? Think you can last more than... What was it? Eight seconds?”, Vanessa snickered, recalling the time you came so quickly underneath her that it was actually dismal. You blush at her mocking tone. She swirled her fingers around your opening, her mouth twitching at the way your pussy spasmed when she pumped them in. You lay down, whimpering as she picked up the pace. With no regard to how prepared you were, she shoved two more fingers in. Wailing, you move your hips with her, remembering that she wasn’t doing this for you; she was doing this for her. The thrusts turned into a heavy pound, your moans making it known that you couldn’t take it. Vanessa feasted her eyes on your body, licking her lips at the way your arousal pooled on the leather of the couch. As you were distracted with the overwhelming urge to come right there and then, she reached for the gun. Too zoned out to notice, you felt her lips attach to your neck. “Don’t make a mark”, you plead as best as you can. She ignores you, licking at your sweet spot before sinking her teeth into the flesh. Hissing, you pull away before stopping dead in your tracks.

Pressed against your stomach was Vanessa’s gun. Just a Glock 22, you knew that much, as it was the same one every cop used around here. Though, the coldness of the frame stunned you, both from the Glock and Vanessas stared. She stared you down as she removed her other hand from your pussy, smirking at the yelp it caused. Your fluids glistened on her hand in the warm light. You wearily watch her stroke her hand up and down the tip of the gun.

Once satisfied, she pointed the gun at your stomach, tilting her head at your small gasp of exhilaration and fear. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. Are you sure about this?”, she asked sweetly. Her gun was completely empty, for she always took the bullets out at the office after a shift. You didn’t know this, though. You would be relying completely on her skill and carefulness in handling a gun. Vanessa's stomach twisted deliciously at your utter dependence on her. Sucking a breath in, you nod.

She trailed the cool gun up your body, stopping short at your mouth. Pulling your messy hair back, your face red, she tapped the tip of your swollen lips. “Open up for me baby”, she husked. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out and swirl it around the muzzle, breasts rapidly rising and falling from the thrill of it all. She forces the frame in, resting her finger on the trigger. You groan at the taste of your own cum. “See? Look how good you can be”, Vanessa murmured, shifting her body as she felt her own pussy thud. Unable to go slowly anymore, she began to roughly thrust the gun in and out of your throat, abusing it as she would with her strap. You gag as it passes your comfort zone, rolling your eyes back when you feel her other hand slap your pussy once more. She stands up, laughing darkly to herself at your obedience. Your eyelashes flutter, saliva dribbling onto the glock. Holding onto your head, she takes out the gun and pulls you up to turn you around. Your hands, still cuffed, grab onto the top of the back pillows, your knees digging into the seat.

“You going to punish me, officer? I thought you said I was a good girl”, you purr. You felt Vanessa’s hands wrap around your front. Your neck was snapped back as she gripped you, sliding the gun through your folds. “If you think this is me punishing you, you better hope you don’t disobey me”, she taunted. She plunged the muzzle into your pussy, groaning at how easily it slipped in. Almost immediately, she rammed it at a swift rate, choking you when your sobs went too loud. Widening your eyes, you lift your bound hands to your neck and grab onto her hand to ease the grip. “Enough”, she spat, fucking you faster and squeezing your neck harder. Your hips were slamming between the cushions and Vanessa's thighs, arousal streaming down your body. With a muffled cry, you tightened your grip around her hand, signaling your need for release. By some sort of miracle, she went even faster. The combination of Vanessa's grunts, the pressure on your throat, and the gun that was currently abusing your overworked pussy made you scream out in pleasure.

“Uh uh. Tell me what you want”, Vanessa asked, refusing to accept your nonverbal request to cum.

Swallowing once, twice, you manage to simper out, “Pl-Please officer. Let me cum, please please please plea-”

In a flash, she released her grasp from your neck and shoved her fingers into your mouth, her pace in your pussy unchanging. You cum with a scream, your body jolting at the stimulation.

“There's a good girl”, she cooed, slowing her thrusts before removing the gun from your destroyed pussy. You flop your head backward onto her shoulder, staring at the ceiling as the world around you doubles. You felt Vanessa softly rub your thighs, whispering words of encouragement as you faded back to earth from your high.

“Always such a good girl when you play sweet”, she smiled as you turned your head to kiss her. Deepening the kiss, she placed the soaked gun down and wrapped her hands fully around you, inhaling your scent. She moved her lips to your jaw, where she peppered soft kisses as you giggled.

“Vanessa”

“Mh?”

“The handcuffs”

Vanessa laughed on your neck, pulling herself away from you.

“Stay there, I’ll be right back”

As she walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, you remembered the cookies that were still baking. “And check on the oven as well”, you shout out, collapsing onto the couch with a small grin.

#five nights at freddys #fnaf movie #fnaf vanessa #fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanny #elizabeth lail #fnaf au #wlw ns/fw #vannessa fnaf #fnaf vanny #vanessa fnaf #vanessa afton #vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly smut

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boyfriendstevie · 7 months

Note

Idea: bf!!stevie who’s lovesick and has to Jack off after every date, and you who somehow get that information out of him

Something silly but sweet! <3

omg i'm so sorry this took me so long, i've been hella busy. but i finally got around to writing it and it got away from me!!! i hope this is what you were looking for hehe | gn!reader, handjob, kind of slightly subby steve? idk. 1.4k. mdni!!! 18+ only!!!

happy to help

“What were you doing when I called last night?” Your question is totally innocent, completely curious as to why Steve didn’t answer when you called his house, and yet, he flushes, pink crawling up his neck to his cheeks. “Thought you would’ve been home by then.”

“Yeah, I-I was—“ Steve stutters, suddenly nervous as his mind flashes to the memories of what he’d actually been doing.

You pout so sweetly it kills Steve, your bottom lip pushing out, brows furrowing, “Well then why didn’t you answer?” He knows you’re not mad with the way your fingers play with his as you stare up at him.

“Uh…” he’s not sure how to answer without revealing that he’d dropped you off at home after your date, went back to his own house, and immediately had to jack off to the thought of you.

It’s not his fault, okay? You’re perfect in every way — funny, kind, smart, and yeah, so fucking beautiful. The relationship is still fairly new, so you haven’t had sex yet, which is totally okay, Steve would never pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, but he’s still a man. He has needs, alright? So, yeah, he has to jerk off as soon as he gets home every time he sees you.

And last night, he hadn’t been expecting you to call so soon after your date — not that he would ever mind — so he was a bit preoccupied, with his fist around his cock, filthy sounds echoing in his room as he fucked up into his hand, wishing it was you. And then you called, pretty voice crackling over the answering machine, and Steve was done for. He’d called you back, of course, just as soon as he’d cleaned up, so you were none the wiser.

When he doesn’t answer your question right away, you giggle and tease, “What, were you jerking off or something?”

Steve’s eyes go wide at that, cheeks impossibly pinker as he stumbles over his response, “Wh-what? No, I—“

You quickly sit up from where you’ve been laying in his lap, your own eyes going wide as you giggle again, “Oh my god! You totally were!”

Even though he doesn’t have any reason to be, Steve is thoroughly embarrassed, head tipping back onto the couch with a loud groan, hands pulling from your grasp to cover his face. He speaks from behind his hands, voice weak and muffled, “Shut up! So what if I was. I’m not saying I was, but if I was…”

“Stevie,” you coo softly, fingers wrapping delicately around his wrists, pulling them from his face, “there’s nothing wrong with that! Hell, I got myself off last night, too.”

Steve nearly chokes at that, shifting uncomfortably, “Oh my god, you can’t just say that shit, babe.”

“Why not?” you know you’re being a menace now, but you can’t help it.

“‘Cause I’m gonna have to do it again!”

“Well, what if I wanna help?” you ask coyly, pushing your lips out into another pout as you lean in closer to Steve.

“Christ, baby—“ Steve’s chest heaves, eyes darting almost frantically from your eyes to your lips, “I-I don’t… don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with yet, and—“

“Stevie, I just said I want to. If you want me to, that is…”

“Shit, of course I do, honey, I just—“

“So let me,” you huff, cutting Steve off with a kiss as you shift up onto your knees. The couch cushions dip as you throw one leg over Steve’s lap and settle against his thighs, mouth still on his.

Steve’s breath catches in his throat at your sudden movement, hands moving to your waist to hold you close as you kiss. It’s a bit messy, your lips sliding against his as your hands make their way down his torso, fingers playing with the string of his sweatpants. You can feel him hard against your thigh, and fuck, you want nothing more than to touch him. So you do, hand slipping under the band of his sweatpants and underwear.

This is not how you expected your first time doing this with Steve to go, but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He fucking full-body shudders as your thumb brushes over the tip of his cock, fingertips trailing down his length until you can wrap your hand around his cock near the base. You stroke up towards the tip, though it’s a bit difficult with his boxers still on.

“Can you… ’s hard to touch you like this, can you just—“ you’re not even finished with your question before Steve is shifting you off of his lap so he can shove his pants down his hips. You know Steve’s big, it’s not exactly a secret, but you’re more than a little distracted at the sight of him, “Fuck, Steve, you’re huge.“

He’s already flushed, but the color travels to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth to say something, or maybe laugh, but it gets cut off when you spit in your hand before curling your fingers around him again. You pump him slowly, nearly painfully so, and he groans, a sound that makes you feel hot all over, “Ah, baby, f-fuck—“

“Like that?” you ask, finally pulling your gaze away from your hand to glance up to his face, and find him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyes fighting to stay open.

“Faster?” Steve pants, eyes meeting yours for only a moment. He’s mesmerized by the motion of your hand, how it looks around his cock. Your hand is so much prettier than his, and he wants to commit it to memory for when you’re not around.

You hum in acknowledgment under your breath and do as he asks, picking up the pace of your hand, twisting your wrist as you stroke up towards the head. Steve’s eyes squeeze shut, no matter how hard he’s trying to fight it, a stuttered breath escaping his lips as he presses his head to the couch cushions behind him.

The moles dotting his tanned skin that you love so much are on full display, and you can’t resist the urge to lean in and press wet kisses to the expanse of his neck, trailing them up towards his jaw. Steve whines as your hand tightens around him, thumb rubbing over the messy slit of his cock when your hand comes back up. He really is making a mess, precum dribbling from the tip and down the shaft, smearing across his tensed stomach, near his belly button.

You watch in awe as his tummy clenches, his cock twitching in your hand. It seems like he can’t help himself as his hips thrust up into your touch, another whiny moan escaping his lips, “Oh god, honey, you’re so— nngh— god, you’re so perfect, y’hand feels so good—“

“Y’gonna cum for me, Stevie?” you ask softly, nipping at his neck and his jaw, your hand trailing down to his balls to fondle them gently, “Gonna cum all over my hand?”

“Yes, oh fuck— fuckfuckfuck, baby, ‘m so—“ he’s babbling nonsense, you can only make out half of what he’s saying, and you have to admit you kind of like the way he’s at your mercy, whimpering and fucking himself into the tight grip of your fist.

“Please cum for me, wanna see you when you cum, baby,” you murmur, doubling down as you stroke his cock quickly.

When your thumb brushes over the tip again, Steve finally cums with a moan of your name, pearly white as it spills over your hand and onto his tummy. He looks so fucking pretty, too, eyes closed in bliss, cheeks pink and glowing, hair falling into his face as he chases his high. It makes your core burn with want, and you hope Steve’s up to the task after he comes back down.

You keep pumping him, a slow up and down, the wet, filthy sound of your hand on his cock filling the quiet of the room. Steve all but whimpers as his chest heaves, hand shooting down to wrap around your wrist in an effort to get you to stop, “Okay, okay, baby, christ, you’re gonna kill me.”

It makes you giggle and you finally pull your hand away, bringing your fingers to your lips. Steve swears he’s died and gone to heaven when he watches your pretty fingers slip into your mouth to lick them clean of his cum. You hum around them before pulling them from your lips with a small pop and give Steve a grin, “How was that?”

“A million times better than my own hand, honey, you don’t understand.”

“Well, I’m happy to help, Stevie.”

“Sooo… next time you call and I’m… busy, I can just answer anyway?”

“I’d prefer if you do.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve thots #kit writes #kit answers

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msgexymunson · 1 year

Text

Rumour Part Three: Roles

Description: as you and Eddie establish your relationship, it seems like no one can get in the way of it. Or can they?

Warnings: NSFW minors DNI or I'll poke you with a sharp stick, a trifecta of angst, fluff and smut, male oral receiving, fingering, slight switch dom!older!pierced!eddie x slight switch sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex, slight pain kink

A/N: I'm so glad you lot are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it, makes me very happy to see all your comments and reblogs, thank you!! Also I apologise to anyone called Estelle or Matt ;)

❤ If you enjoy this, please reblog the hell out of it, pretty pretty please! ❤

5.6k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Lying in bed with Eddie was everything. It was two in the afternoon, and neither of you wanted to get up just yet. A warm glowing bubble had settled over the both of you and you were loath to break it. Eddie's wearing a pair of black trunks, you're in an oversized t shirt and no pants, since Eddie had pulled them down three times last night and it seemed an exercise in futility to put them on again.

Your legs were tangled together comfortably, like a pair of puzzle pieces finding their perfect match. Stroking your hand over his chest, you were tracing the lines of his tattoos.

"How many do you have? Tattoos I mean," you clarify, circling a devils head and horns just by his mass of chest hair.

"Pass. I've no idea sweet thing. Dozens. A hundred? I dunno." His hand travels to yours, helping you trace around a scorpion on his abdomen, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

"Well, which ones the oldest?"

He shifts to show you his arm. "See these bats?"

You nod, fingers whispering over his skin to rub at the flock of faded bats on his forearm.

"Got them when I was 17. No real reason, just thought they looked metal." He snorted a little laugh at his past self.

You smile at the glimpse of the past he's allowed you to see. Gazing up at him, you ask "what's your favourite one?"

He grins and winks at you. "Oh that's easy. Shift over a little?"

You move backwards a bit whilst he switches positions to lay on his side away from you, displaying his completely tattooed back.

It's the only tattoo he has in colour. A full back piece of a monstrous dragon with five heads, wreathed in flame. The art is incredible, so intricate and beautiful. You run your hands over it, marvelling at the details.

"Its pretty awesome Eddie."

He rolls back over to face you, fingers fluttering over your figure.

"I love it. Its Tiamat, the five headed dragon Goddess, from Dungeons and Dragons."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You nerd."

He chuckles back. "Yup, 'fraid so."

Nuzzling his face into your side, you hear his muffled voice "what time is it?"

Nearly 2:15."

"Urgh, I need to be in the shop at 3:45." He sighs into your shirt, then sits up.

"I'm gonna take a shower." After pecking you on the cheek, he swings his muscular legs off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.

You sigh in contentment at the empty room, then pad your way out to the kitchen area to make some coffee for the pair of you. Once the pot is done you pour one for yourself.

Busying yourself in the kitchen, seeing if there were enough ingredients to make pancakes, you hear Eddie's voice from the doorway.

"Oh you made coffee, thanks sweets."

"No problem baby- oh."

Well fuck me.

There he stood, completely naked, roughly rubbing a towel through his wet mane of hair. Body glistening, steam rolling off his skin, tattoos darker and gleaming wet. His muscles shone in the light, taunt frame perfectly on display. Damp chest hair dripped deliciously down to his happy trail. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his impressive length hanging between his legs, slightly pink and heavy looking, piercing glinting, inviting you over.

Glistening in front of you, so effortlessly, he looked like some sort of heathen God. You'd happily get down on your knees and worship him forever.

"What you staring at? Something you like sweet thing?" Eddie tips his head at you, smug smile creeping across his face.

Your mouth is hanging open. Snapping it shut, cheeks glowing, you walk over to him.

"We had sex like, three times last night and you still blush at me naked? You're too cute." He chuckles at you.

He stops laughing when you reach him and drop to your knees, hands trailing up his thighs.

"Woah, pretty girl, what are you doing?"

You take his member into your hands, running your palms over his length, feeling it harden quickly from your soft touches.

"I wanna, I wanna give you head."

He smiles softly at you. "Sweets you don't need to do that."

You keep running your hands over him, one dipping to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your hand. He lets out a shaky breath.

"You always take care of me, you never let me." You frown. "But I want to. Please Eddie?"

He moans, eyes rolling back. "Always so fuckin' polite. Shit."

Running your tongue up the length of his fully hard cock, you cover it with open mouthed kisses, licking and gently sucking at his shaft. Eddie hisses; you hear the towel he was holding flump to the floor, large hand coming to rest on the back of your head, engulfing your hair.

Taking his tip into your mouth, you trace around each cold steel ball with your tongue, swirling around either end of the piercing, swallowing pre cum. Eddie groans loudly, thumb rubbing the back of your head with encouragement.

Rubbing your tongue back and forth over his slit, you use your hands to work his shaft, dribbling spit to help glide across him. His slippery hard length is pulsing in your hands.

"Holy shit, pretty girl, that's- fuck, that's really good."

You moan around him, humming at the praise, doubling your efforts. You need him to come. He makes you feel so good all the time and you need him to know.

Trying your hardest to please him, you take him into your throat as much as you can. Granted, it's only just over halfway down his dick, but from the noises he's making it's enough. You feel the strange bump of steel at the back of your throat. Using your hands for the rest, you stroke him firmly. Each movement conveying just how much he means, how much you want to worship him.

"Oh sweet thing, God that's- oh fuck, hmm." Eddie's lost the power of speech which you take as the highest compliment. He's listening to your prayers.

Releasing him from your mouth, you stroke him with your hand and gently take one of his balls in your mouth, suckling gently, running your tongue all over it. Eddie was clearly not expecting it; you feel his legs shudder and a high pitched whine expel from his mouth. You smirk, taking the other in your mouth for the same treatment whilst firmly stroking his dick, endeavouring to show him your devotion.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna- shit, please- let me cum in your mouth" he's breathless and twitching, flushed red, practically quivering at your reverence.

You take his cock back into his mouth and hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down his length quickly, squeezing his balls in your hand.

"Oh fuck, I'm, fuck-" as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and swallow around his length, not stopping until he's whimpering, empty, his fill of your worship well and truly taken.

Halting your movements you behold him through damp lashes.

"Was that ok?"

"Fuckin' hell sweet thing, it was a little bit more than ok. Jesus H. Christ, I've got to go to work. Fuck, how am I this lucky?"

You blush and stand up, placing a kiss to his full lips.

"You want your coffee now?"

"Yeah, and a cigarette, before I do anything else." He crumples onto the couch, grabbing the towel to hide his modesty.

You get his coffee, add sugar and creamer, and bring him his cigarettes. Beaming at you, he takes you into his lap.

"What's this all about? Being all sweet to me."

You hide your head in his chest, suddenly shy. No matter how much confidence you portray in the world, the minute you get a look from Eddie it dissolves.

"I dunno, I just, I wanna take care of you Eddie."

He flashes an soft grin and holds you close, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "You already have sweet thing."

********************

Later that evening you're wiping down tables at the bar and collecting stray glasses.

"Hey, you may as well go, I'll finish up tonight, it's dead anyway." Your manager shouts over to you.

"Thanks!" You deposit the glasses in the dishwasher, hanging up your apron.

You check the time, 11pm. I wonder if he's still at the shop?

Eddie works late sometimes, he never wants to get up before noon so his client base tended to be night owls like him. Deciding to take the risk, you throw on your jacket and march into the chilly night air, walking the couple of blocks over to the tattoo shop.

Turning the corner, you see the shutters are down but the light is still on upstairs. You give it a minute, stopping to smoke a cigarette that Eddie had pre rolled for you. As you smoke, you hear voices, and a woman's laugh, clear as a bell.

Your stomach drops out from under you. Feeling your heart skipping a sick thud, then rushing blood, faster; faster than should be possible whilst standing still.

Ok calm the fuck down.

You take a breath, trying to calm the anticipated anger that's buzzing in your system and clouding your brain. It's stupid, you know, entirely unwarranted. It doesn't stop your mind leaping to the worst possible outcome.

Suddenly the door swings open and some Hollywoodian goddess swans out the door, all blonde mane, bust and teeth. Eddie walks out with her, giving her an embrace.

"Thanks Eds, you're the best!" She keens; shooting you what can only be described as a Look, then sways off on her too high heels.

"See you sweetheart!" He waves. The nickname forces an angry blush to the tips of your ears. Eddie turns to go back inside, then sees you and looks surprised.

"Hey pretty girl! What you doing here?" His grin is sugary and warm at your unexpected presence, settling the angry rolling feeling in your stomach. The rage is still there; no longer an explosive boil, but a simmer.

"Came to check, see if you were still working. I got off early."

"Come in then sweets, I gotta tidy up before I leave." He takes large strides back inside and you struggle to keep up with him.

Making his way back to his workstation, he's throwing away leftover bottles and paper towels covered in ink splotches, whilst you try and act as normal as possible.

"So, who was that?" Voice quivering ever so slightly as you take your coat off.

"Oh that's Estelle, finished her lower back piece today." He says, not even looking up, removing his gloves.

Ah, tramp stamp, I knew it.

"There's a band playing tomorrow night, at a bar not far from here, she said. Not too heavy, you should like it. What do you think sweet thing?" He looks up at you, eyebrows raised.

"Huh? Oh sure, whatever. Sure she's got great taste," Shrugging at him, you look around the walls of the shop at the various artworks hanging up.

"Woah, you being a bit judgy pretty girl?" He smirks.

"Why? She a librarian or something?" You bite back, eyes narrowing.

He laughs, "no she's a stripper."

"Oh course she fucking is," you mumble, cheeks burning.

He perches on the leather chair, arms out. "Hey, c'mere."

You huff, but move closer, allowing yourself to be hugged, arms pinned at your sides.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He brushes your cheek and you flinch, jaw clenching. Concern fills his eyes, brows heavy with confusion.

"Don't call me that. You just called her that."

You see realisation dawn on that stupidly handsome face of his, and his gaze grows softer.

"Oh, pretty girl, are you jealous?"

You look down at your own hands sandwiched between the two of you, unable to meet his eye. A firm grip holds your chin, pulling you to face him, smooth smile with a hint of smirk pervading his features.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. That woman's got more silicone in her than a Barbie doll. Not my thing." You giggle slightly, a small smile threatening to push your mouth corners upwards. "I call everyone sweetheart, it's nothing."

You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? Why call me sweetheart then?"

He holds his hand to his chest, miming being hit. "Ooft, you got me there. Force of habit."

He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles.

"I don't call her sweet thing." He pulls you closer, "or pretty girl." His hands begin stroking up and down your sides. "Those are reserved for you." Slow, soft kisses are planted on your neck. "I don't call her my good girl. I don't call her my girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

He's not asked. And why would he, what are you, twelve?

"I'm your girlfriend?" You look at him with wide eyes and a wobbling lip.

"Well I fuckin' hope so, I've said you are to everyone I've seen today. I think Estelle was pissed at me for not shutting up about you to be honest."

You can't help but giggle triumphantly at that. Staring at him, you look at his neck, the side untouched by tattoos. Mischievous look adorning your features, you bend and kiss into his neck. Softly, at first, so he melts into your touch, then you grip him, and suck.

"Pretty girl, oh fuck, what are you doing?"

You release his neck with a wet suck, looking pleased with the purplish mark that's beginning to blossom.

"Marking my territory."

He puffs out a laugh "oh my little jealous girl," and strokes your head.

Somehow that's makes you madder. You're not a jealous girl. You're a woman.

You shove him a little. "Lie back."

He smirks at you, but he listens, lying fully in the reclined tattoo chair, eyes trying to work out your next move.

Clambering on top of him, you tug at the hem of his t shirt. He pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. You run your fingers down, finding spots to suck bruises into, taking small mouthfuls of whatever exposed, ink free skin you can find.

"What you doing sweet thing?" He chuckles.

"I'm trying to find blank bits to hickey!"

He laughs out loud at your frustrations. Until you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.

"Oh pretty- oh fuck!" He practically yelps, hips thrusting upwards.

You gaze down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, round eyes and heaving chest.

Oh.

"Wait, does that turn you on?" You raise your eyebrow at him, fingertips ghosting his sides.

"Is it that much of a stretch to think I've got a thing for pain?" He says it confidently, gesturing to his inky body whilst cockily smirking; yet this appears masked, false. Looking in his eyes you can tell how much you've affected him

Not saying anything, you merely pinch one of his nipples and twist it lightly. Eddie's mouth falls open, pretty little moan escaping those full lips, eyebrows knitted.

Grinning deviously, you bend over him and take the other nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, before nipping at it and pulling with your teeth.

"Jesus H. Christ! Fuck."

You look up at him. Eddie's flushing the prettiest pink colour, mouth practically drooling, eyelids heavy with lust. You've never seen him like this before, losing control. Wait, that's not it. He's relinquishing control, giving himself to you.

You stand up and he huffs at the loss of contact, until you begin stripping off your clothes. He hurriedly pulls his jeans and boxers down, not even bothering to take them off, just bunching them at his ankles. His dick looks painfully hard, almost dribbling, angry red at the tip. Swinging your leg back over you straddle him, sliding your pussy over his length, back and forth. Your nails drag harder down his chest than you ever would have dared before, leaving scarlet paths joining up his inked frame. He bucks, shaking underneath. You continue to glide your sopping heat over him, grinding over the shaft, relishing the tingle of his piercing when it flits over your clit.

"Please, sweet thing." His whole demeanour has changed, begging you, pleading with you. An idea pops into your brain.

Leaning forward, you whisper low and quiet in his ear, "are you gonna be a good boy for me?" The low groan he releases resonates from his chest and into yours, firm hands coming to settle on your hips.

You take his hard length in your hands and guide him into you, slipping gently onto him inch by inch. No matter how many times, it still feels like the first time. Your face scrunches up, discomfort evident.

"You ok sweets?" Eddie's rubbing your hip in consolation.

"Yeah, just... really fuckin' big baby."

He smirks, as always. "Never get tired of hearing that."

Stroking your hands down his chest, you hold onto his sides firmly, possessively, rocking into him. Each movement, each flick of your hips produces a ripple of pleasure. You grind down, rocking hard, back and forth, building up the rhythm, the pressure in your stomach building, your throbbing want intensifying.

Once you start bouncing up and down Eddie's done for. You see his face, desperately trying to keep some measure of control whilst he stares at your tits bouncing right in front of him, at his dick being swallowed up by your hungry cunt.

The noise of squelching sex surrounds you, moans and whines adding to the pornographic soundtrack. You can tell Eddie's barely holding it together, as he quickly reaches for your clit, rubbing almost vicious circles, eager for you to come before he does.

The tell tale tingle grips hold of you, a buzzing through your core and up your spine. The shattering of nerves; a delivery of white hot light spills from his fingertips and into your being, filling you to the brim with his rapture.

You throw your head back at the intense feeling, letting out whimpers of devotion to him, rocking back and forth, willing the moment to continue. You're barely aware of his own release, only realising when you finally snap your eyes open to see his slam shut, tensing beneath you, letting go in a gun shot, tension ripped from his body by your gripping walls.

Leaning forward, hot panting breaths mingling with each others, you press your lips into a searing kiss.

In between pants, Eddie manages, "not that I mind, but fuck, what's gotten into you today, pretty girl?" He chuckles, stroking your cheek with a rough thumb pad.

"You're mine." You simply say, protective hand laid onto the middle of his chest, over his heart. He grips your hand in his, and smiles.

********************

The next evening you're perching on a stool at a moderately busy bar, twisting a napkin in your hands. Nerves have you in their grip whilst you wait for Eddie to arrive, bubbling away in your tummy. It seems strange, but this is technically your second date, the first being when he took you to lunch. Eddie hadn't exactly courted you, he claimed you. If you were honest with yourself, you were his the first time he laid eyes on you.

Still wanting to impress him, you'd decided to dress up. Kitted out in a short black dress with a cute cherry pattern, lower cut than you would usually dare, fishnet hold ups and ankle boots, you were confident he would be pleased.

You had certainly attracted the attention of a few men dotted around the bar, lone sharks circling. Paying them no mind, you sipped your drink and waited on Eddie.

It was a pretty decent looking place, certainly nicer than the dive where you worked. The ceilings were high, with huge light fixtures hanging almost like art pieces, letting out twinkling light, bathing the crowd in spots of colour, sparkling on the red linoleum floor. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming band, people smiling, waving at friends, rushing back and forth to the bar to get drinks. You sat on a stool at the end of the bar, neatly tucked in a corner. The light was good here, and it was opposite the main entrance, perfect for spotting Eddie when he eventually got here.

Looking up to check the door again you lock eyes with another man. He smiles and starts walking over.

Well that's typical.

You roll your eyes, but as he gets closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of the regulars at your bar. At least you may not have to wait for Eddie alone.

"Hey Matt!" You smile as he walks over, giving you a brief hug.

"Hey darlin! Never see you in here, you're always working!" He grins at you. Matt always chatted to you when you were on shift, checking how you were doing. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. Broad shouldered, with a mop of messy ashen blonde hair and perfect teeth. He looked like he was around his mid twenties, and definitely a former jock judging by his physique.

You usually saw him with his girlfriend, an almost frightening replica of him in female form. In your head you'd nicknamed them the Cheer Clones since they reminded you so much of the cheerleaders in your high school.

"Where's-" don't say cheer clone, don't say cheer clone, shit what's her name-

"Jessie? We broke up." He frowns, looking down for a second, then waves at the bar tender.

"Oh, so sorry to hear that, you ok?" You pat his arm in consolation.

"I'll be ok, really. You want a drink?"

"Sure, bourbon and soda please."

He orders and pays for the round, sitting on the bar stool next to you.

"So, hot date?" He asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands, "yeah how did you know?"

"Er, girl, you live in jeans! He must be pretty special." He grins at you.

You flush at the mere thought of Eddie. You can't deny, these past few weeks had been pretty spectacular.

"Wow, you've got it bad, huh? Pleased for you." He says, sipping his beer, looking just over your shoulder and flashing a small smile.

Before you can turn, an arm is thrown over your shoulder; rough stubble and soft lips touch your forehead.

"Sorry I'm late, sweet thing."

"Eddie!" You smile, looking up at him, but his stony glare is cemented on Matt.

"Baby, this is Matt, he comes to my bar. Matt this is Eddie, my boyfriend." You gesture between the two.

Matt sticks his hand out. Eddie looks at it briefly as if it offends him, before staring back at Matt's eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you." Matt puts his hand down but still flashes a winning smile at Eddie.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too Mike." And he motions his hand at the bar tender, immediately getting his attention and ordering a beer, arm never leaving your shoulders.

"Its Matt, actually-"

"Yeah, sure thing champ." Eddie says dismissively, slaps a note down to pay for the beer, and nearly drags you to your feet.

"Bands about to start, let's go my pretty girl."

You move, being pulled by the wrist, and mouth a 'sorry' at Matt. He just smiles and salutes you as you go past.

Eddie stops once you are free from Matt's gaze, stepping back to pull your arm in the air above you, making you turn for him so he can admire your outfit. You cannot help but admire his.

Eddie's dressed up for you. The first thing that grabs your attention and refuses to let go is the fact that your very sexy boyfriend is wearing eyeliner. That fact alone has you weak at the knees.

He's wearing a black button down, undone to the point of unholiness, exposing his chest tattoos and a thin silver chain just kissing the tops of his pecs. His black jeans are tight, hugging every muscle, leading down to chunky army boots. There's no other way to describe it; he exudes sex. It's as if every fibre of him was made to ooze this animalistic aura; you could nearly smell it in the air.

"You look really great Eddie."

Meeting his eyes, you see his pupils are blown, drinking in every ounce of your figure with blasphemous intention.

"Sweet thing, you look incredible." He pulls you close to wrap his arms around you. "Remind me never to let you wait for me inside a bar again."

You laugh, love drunk eyes roaming his face, "you jealous Mr Munson?"

He kisses you full on the lips, a fiery kiss, hot and messy in its delivery, tongue chasing yours. When he breaks away, you lean forward in hope, missing the contact.

"Why should I be? I already have you." He winks, then pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, manoeuvring you both to face the band who have just come on stage.

The band are indeed decent, and pretty soon the heady atmosphere, the bourbon, and the warm glow of Eddie's arms around you have you grinning and swaying to the music. You're moving your hips, ass against Eddie, enjoying the moment.

Eddie's large hands never leave you. If he's not wrapping his arms around your neck, he's holding you protectively by the hips, keeping you close to him. If anyone in the crowd got too close or rowdy, he was there, keeping you safe.

The band takes a break and Eddie whips you around to face him, hands rubbing up and down your sides, predatory gaze fixed on you.

"If you're gonna keep dancing like that pretty girl, I may just have to take you home." He smiles, biting his lip.

"Hmm, I think you can wait a couple hours." You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.

"Ok, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he fishes out a note from his pocket and hands it to you, "go grab us some drinks on me."

You take the money and peck him again, scooting your way back over to the busy bar.

The crowd has merged and flowed, making their way to the bar, dam about to burst with the influx of people wanting the same thing.

You queue, waiting for service, when you notice a friendly face next to you.

"Hey Matt, how's your evening going?" You say, touching his arm.

"Great thanks, the bands really good. Look, sorry if I upset your boyfriend there."

You giggle and roll your eyes "don't worry about it."

"Seriously, I didn't mean to offend him I just-"

Suddenly, Matt has disappeared and you are staring at Eddie's torso.

"Come here sweets. Say goodbye to Mark."

You here a small voice say "it's Matt, actually-"

"Whatever kid" Eddie growls, leading you away from the bar.

"Eddie, what are you doing I haven't even got drinks yet-"

"Just come with me."

You allow yourself to be lead, pulled helplessly by the wrist. Eddie snakes around the crowd, leading you past the backstage area and into a small bathroom. It's strange that he seems to know the layout of the place so well. You stop him in his tracks, annoyed by his behaviour.

"Eddie, seriously what's up with you? You know I'm not just gonna leave you right?" Soft eyes meet his.

"I know sweet thing," and he presses you against the wall so fast it makes your head spin.

"I just need everyone else to know that."

Without further warning his hand is stroking up your thigh, fingers grazing your clothed pussy. Given his urgency, his clear need for you, his touch is soft. His other hand snakes to the back of your neck, forcing eye contact. The eyeliner only focuses how intensely he looks at you, dark circles drawing you in.

"Can I make you feel good sweet thing?" Fingertips fondling your heat, hot breath asphyxiating. Eddie overwhelms you, exuding heat, passion making it difficult to breathe.

"Yeah" you manage breathily, devastated by his presence, trying to keep some semblance of self. It's so difficult to when Eddie tears you apart by simply being there, in your space.

Rough fingertips pull your underwear aside and massage across your slit, finding your clit immediately. Your breath catches in your throat, shock of delectation pervading your senses.

Eddie slides two thick fingers deep inside you making you gasp. He rocks them into you, setting a ruthless rhythm, eyes never leaving yours.

"Now, I'm going to make you come pretty girl, twice in a row, and you're gonna enjoy it, ok?"

You mumble some semblance of yes, ability to concentrate considerably lessened by the sure movements of his hand. He curls his digits into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes your toes curl inside your boots.

"Eddie, fuck, yes" you keen and writhe against the wall, eye contact stripping you of any modesty, any thought.

Eddie's relentless movements continue as he sucks bruises onto the tops of your breasts, purple colouring blossoming against your chest, a blooming floral display of blood soaked skin.

"Oh my God Eddie," you moan, his sure hands coaxing pure bliss from your core, sopping wet noise of your arousal echoing through the small space.

"That guy out there, your friend, what's his name?" Eddie's eyes bore into yours, hand not stopping.

You're pulled out of the pleasure pit he's thrown you into, visibly confused. "You- you mean Matt? He's just-"

Eddie doubles his efforts, curling his fingers into you harder, palm rubbing hard against your clit, reigniting the fire in your belly.

"Oh my God Eddie, fuck-" you grind yourself unabashedly against his thick fingers, immense feeling towering over you, threatening to topple at his very command.

"You gonna come pretty girl? My pretty girl?" He says, dark eyes piercing into your very soul, "come then, come on my fucking fingers."

His gravelly voice and confident manoeuvres are pushing you over that edge, emphasis on his swear word singing through your nerves and into your cunt. Unable to process such feeling, such unbridled ardour, you moan loudly into the air without a care of who could hear you.

Your release pushes through you with all the force of a natural disaster. Whipping through your soul like a hurricane of sensation, cunt throbbing with the complexity of feeling. It rips away any insecurities, making you moan as loud as your body needs without fear of repercussion.

But it doesn't stop, not yet. Eddie's not through with you. His movements continue, coaxing you through the orgasm and into the other side, relentless and unabating.

"Fuck Eddie, please, its too much-"

Eddie's free hand grips your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"Do you want me to stop." The question is real, but your commitment waivers, enjoying the relentless hold he has on your pussy.

"No, please-" you moan, your flower continuing to open to him, flesh yielding and soft as putty in his hands. A fuzz settles over your brain; you mind clouded, filled with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your eyes roll back, unable to control your gaze. Eddie shakes you lightly by the chin, forcing you back to reality.

"So what's that guy's name?"

You look at him through damp lashes, tears building in the corners of your eyes, utterly incapable of speech.

"I said, what's that guy's name?"

"Eddie, fuck I- wha?" Words a slur, body limp against the wall; the only thing keeping you upright is the burly hand firmly between your legs, fingers deep inside; your Eddie's marionette.

"Good girl. That's what I thought." Eddie smiles smugly, running his thumb over your clit in swift motions, fingers continually hitting that spot inside you.

Your second release feels even more powerful than the first, ripping a passionate whine from your throat. The noises you're making are incomprehensible as your whole body seizes up and your slick shoots out, coating Eddie's hand, your thighs, and even the floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are the devil." It comes out as a rush, almost one word.

Laughing deviantly, Eddie moves his hand and you nearly crumple to the floor. He catches you, pushing you against the wall with his body. Your eyes are drawn to the deep v in his shirt, to his inky muscled chest.

"Eddie?" You look at him and he stares back, faces impossibly close.

"Yes sweet thing?"

"You've ruined my underwear."

He laughs deeply. "What can I say, it's a talent. Can I take you home my little super soaker?"

You flush with embarrassment, hot cheeks aflame. "Eddie!"

Straightening your clothes and attempting to sort your hair out, you look down, taking in your love bitten chest for the first time. Purple red welts adorn the swell of your breasts in a low necklace of ownership. You'd be mad at him if it didn't make you throb inside.

He leads you back to the bar and towards the main entrance, attempting to get you home as quickly as possible to finish what he's started, when you're stopped in your tracks by cloud of perfume and blonde hair.

"Hey Eds!"

"Hey Estelle, you good? This is my girlfriend I told you about."

You smile at her dutifully, and spot a familiar face yet again, hovering by, his eyes trained on the marks on your chest.

"Estelle, nice to meet you! Hey, have you met Mark?" You gesture at him to move closer while Eddie snickers next to you.

He sticks his hand out to her "it's Matt actually."

Oops.

Masterlist

Tag list part 1- rest will be in the comments

@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog

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exhaslo · 1 month

Note

Have you ever tried writing yandere!beast!miguel x chubby!female reader? I'd imagine it'd go something like beauty and the beast.

Your work is amazing!

Ohhhhhhhhhh, the IDEAS THIS IS GIVING ME IS UNHEALTHY!!! BUT LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

I'll do this one as fluff, but DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE SMUT I'M ALREADY THINKING OFF OHHHHHHHHHOHOHOHOH BOY.

Warning: Fluff, Possessive

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The city of Nueva York hid many dark secrets. There was always something new in every corner. One could live in the city all their life and still not know what dark, hidden truths that were scattered throughout the city that never sleeps.

But, the rumors spread.

You couldn't keep track of everything you've heard. You've only just moved into the city and it felt overwhelming. City life was nothing compared to the movies.

"Did you hear about Alchemax's CEO? He has locked himself in his mansion."

"Again? But...does it matter since the company is always booming?"

You couldn't help but overhear the chatter on the train. Funny enough, you had started working at Alchemax. You had heard a thing or two about your CEO, but never once met him. Funny enough, it was always the rumors you hear first.

But, it mattered not to you. It wasn't like you were ever going to meet the man.

-------------

"Sir, could you please tell me again why I have to be the one to drop off these packages? Wouldn't Mr. O'Hara's assistant be a better fit?" You asked nervously.

"Funny enough, his close staff went on vacation. Besides, you would be in and out. He won't pay mind to you."

Why? Because you were chubby? This wasn't the first time you've heard a backhanded comment like that. It urked you. You came to the city for equal opportunity, but everyone only saw your weight.

"Good luck."

"Wait, how will I-" You gasped as your supervisor left you.

Oh, how you were ready to file a complaint to HR. You were left alone in front of your CEO's mansion with no way back home. You were abandon and you hated it.

Taking a deep breathe, you approached the main door and rang the door bell. The paperwork in your arms nearly crushed by your own frustration. Waiting for the door to open only angered you more. You huffed and kicked the door slightly, gasping as it opened.

Cussing quietly, you slowly entered the mansion. It was dark. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked for a desk, table, anything solid to place the file down.

"Um, excuse me. Sorry for the intrusion, but I have some paperwork from Alchemax, sir."

--------

Miguel let out a low growl as he laid in his bed. This beastly form giving him very little motivation to do much of anything. His glare shifted from his phone to the door as he heard the doorbell. Another poor soul has come to give him his paperwork.

Ready to scare the fool away, Miguel rose from his bed. His feet dragged with each step, causing an echo throughout the mansion. His low growls and hisses, giving him an eerie effect.

"Um, I-I'm just...going to drop this off....here." You stuttered.

Miguel's eyes light up as he heard your voice. Stopping his scary demeanor, he poked his head from the corner wall. There you were, shaking as you looked around his mansion. Miguel's breathing shuddered as he felt a fire lit inside of him.

"Wait," He called out, "Who are you? You're not the usual sender."

"Oh, um, hello, sir. I'm (Y/N) from marketing! I was asked to drop off from files for your approval since the usual sender was ill today." Your voice was so sweet.

"Ah, well I didn't mean to startle you. Please, help yourself to the room on the right. I should have some water in the fridge."

"Ah, thank you, sir."

Miguel withheld a breathe as he watched you walk into the room. Your hips swaying and curves calling out for him. How perfect of a treat you were. The only question was, would you be frighten by his form?

---------

You cooed softly as you drank a bottled water. Sure, this place was creepy as hell, but finally hearing a reassuring voice calmed you. Yes, you were surprised by the sudden voice, but who would have thought that the CEO sounded so charming.

"Ah, I don't wanna go back to work now." You whined quietly.

"Then don't,"

You gasped, jumping in place from the voice behind you. Catching your water before you dropped it, you sighed heavily. How could someone be so quiet? Turning to confront your CEO, you froze at the sheer height of him.

"Someone as cute as you shouldn't be working so hard." Miguel spoke, slowly approaching you.

"Cu-" You were at a loss for words.

For one, your CEO was a giant beast standing before you. Second, he called you cute. This was a first.

"Are you scared of me?" Miguel asked, stepping into the light. Your jaw dropped,

"I'm...more surprised," You whispered, staring at the tall beast, "I'm wondering if I'm even dreaming."

"You aren't. I won't hurt you either."

You were hesitant to his words. Who wouldn't be? You were surprised by how calm you were actually. This was your CEO in front of you. You've seen pictures of him, but never like this. It was strange, but you felt almost at ease.

"You would've by now," You said with a soft chuckle, "Um, if you don't mind me asking...How-"

"I do mind," Miguel hummed, his eyes sparkling brighter, "Would you take my proposal and work for me instead? I could use the help."

"Um-"

--------

It didn't take much to convince you at all. Miguel enjoyed how obedient you were. Miguel enjoyed your presence. You were kind to him. You were normal to him. You belonged to him.

Miguel made sure that you stayed by his side. He gave you a room in his mansion and kept you close at all times. You were oh so helpful to him in more ways than one. Miguel never thought that he'd have such feelings towards someone.

But you were special.

"(Y/n), come here." Miguel hummed, watching you hurry towards him.

His grin grew as you 'accidently' tripped and landed against his big, fuzzy chest. His arms wrapped around your thick waist, humming in delight as he held your thighs. You squeaked, but didn't complain as you fixed yourself on his lap.

"Sorry, Miguel!" You apologized. Miguel kept his smile,

"Quite alright." Oh, how he loved holding you, "Did you need something?"

"I must have forgotten. Holding such a beauty seemed to have distracted me."

Your face flustered as you looked away from Miguel. Ah, that look was so adorable. Miguel loved keeping you all to himself. Stroking your cheek with his claws, Miguel brought your attention back to him. Oh, how you belonged to him.

"Oh! Before I forget, you received a letter. It seems like you're needed back at Alchemax. Shall I go and inform-"

"No!" Miguel hissed, holding you closer, "You aren't allowed to leave! You are staying here, with me!"

-------

You felt your heart racing a mile a minute as Miguel held you so firmly. Despite being a beast, you were enjoying this warm embrace. Miguel treated you so kindly. Yes, you didn't get to go outside, but you didn't mind.

"Okay, I won't go," You whispered, calming Miguel down.

It was strange. Some might say that you were being held hostage by a savage beast. Some would say that you were insane. You could not deny those claims, but you didn't care since Miguel cared for you. He didn't mind your body and he gave you such sweet compliments.

"Shall I make you your favorite meal?" You asked sweetly. Miguel exhaled and buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hands still holding your waist,

"In a moment."

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel spoke in your ear. How strange would it be to want to kiss him? You had seen his human form, you knew that he was human underneath the beast...But you still wanted to kiss him even as so.

How strange would it truly be?

To kiss a beast?

---------

It had been a couple of months since you've stayed at Miguel's mansion, helping him. You had grown feelings for him and wondered how strange it would be to act on them? Miguel was currently a beast, not human.

Hearing the sound of loud typing, you made your way to Miguel's office. You smiled as you watched the tall beast working diligently. It was funny since he was a CEO but hasn't stepped foot in his building.

"(Y/N), come in." Miguel chuckled. You smiled brightly, hurrying to his side,

"How'd you know it was me?" You teased. Miguel glanced down at you, easily picking you up and placing you on his lap, "Miguel! I'm heavy!"

"You're not," He hummed, nuzzling your neck, "You're perfect just the way you are."

"Hehe, Miguel, you're too kind." You cooed, feeling your heart race from glee, "Miguel?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," You chirped and pecked his cheek, "Is it okay for me to like you?"

--------

Miguel felt a rising heat from within. He hid his smile as he turned your head, chuckling at your cuteness. How delicious this was. You were right in his claws. You belonged to Miguel and no one else. You were never going to leave his side.

"It should be the other way around."

Miguel chuckled darkly as he brought you in for a kiss. Your body trembling under his touch as his tongue ravished your mouth. You smelled so sweet and you were all his. Swirling his tongue inside your mouth, Miguel hummed towards how sweet you taste.

"You're mine forever, (Y/N)"

Mine and no one else.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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milf-murdock · 6 months

Note

Can I make a request? 🥹 Ghost when you joke to him about joining the military hehe. Thank you!

A/N: Okay wow thank you beautiful anon for sending in this ask and inspiring the FUCK out of me. I was really in my feels about not feeling up to writing anything (the imposter syndrome can be so real even in fandom spaces), but this ask set my brain ablaze. so thank you, dear <3 let me know if you like it!!

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Civilian!Reader (Established relationship)

“Who knows, maybe I’ll just say ‘fuck it’ and join the military,” you half-joke, before taking a sip of your tepid earl grey.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Simon’s abrupt growl catches you off guard, causing you to briefly choke on your final sip.

“Come again?” You manage to get out between coughs, raising your eyebrow in confusion, thoroughly taken aback by his rigid body posture and brash response. You both had been enjoying a quiet Saturday morning together, a treasured treat that were few and far between. The empty plates from the morning’s breakfast still sat between you two as you both enjoyed the last of your tea, the conversation veering from your typical work complaints to the casual idea of starting over fresh in a new career field.

It had all been rather pleasant, but you sense the mood shift, a familiar tug in your stomach telling you a fight was brewing.

“I said,” Simon continued in that deep voice, his tone taking on a bitter edge. “Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”

Your stubborn side flares up in indignation and you suppress a bitter laugh, finding yourself digging in your heels at the idea. You mentioned it as a joke, not even really thinking twice about it, but like hell you were going to be told no like that.

“And why, pray tell, the fuck not?” You shoot back at him from across the table. You practically slam your teacup on the table, the satisfying thunk emphasizing your question. “What? You don’t think I can do it? You don’t think I can handle myself?” You don’t slow down—oh no, you’re on a roll now. “Or is it that that specific role is only reserved for you? And I’m just supposed to stay home and be the doting housewife that sits around and waits for you to get back?”

At that final remark, Simon rises out of his seat, his dark gaze meeting your own as he steps around the table to you. You’re not even close to done though, quick to rise up out of your own seat to meet him.

“You have some real balls, Simon, acting like you get to just say no like that. I swear to god I will march down to the nearest recruiters office before you so much as finish your tea and I will—“ your thrown off mid-sentence as Simon’s hands embrace your face, his thumb tracing against your cheek bone in a gesture of pure tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to your fiery words, and you can practically feel the fire start to wane at the sweet touch.

Simon takes a step closer to you, and you find yourself inches away from his burly chest, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him.

“I will—“ you try to continue your argument, but even you have to admit your words are wilting at his closeness.

Even after so many years together, you never get used to the way your body responds to him. Your heart rate picks up, your breathing ever so slightly unsteadied, and you find yourself leaning in even closer, drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

Simon’s thumb moves from your cheek down to press against your lips, silencing your argument.

You blink in response.

“You would make a fine soldier, darling,” his tone is low and even now, in clear opposition to your red-hot spirited words. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you would be pure dead brilliant and rise through the ranks."

Your rage starts to settle as you practically preen at the compliments. The tension leaves your shoulders, just enough to keep Simon going.

"It’s absolutely nothing to do with you, love. It’s me.”

“You?” You mutter against his thumb, brows furrowed in confusion, and he slides the digit down to your chin and caresses your jawline.

“Yeah...me,” Simon’s tone has a note of finality in it, and you know that he doesn’t want to explain further, but you need more than that.

“Explain.”

Simon’s exhale follows your demand, but he knows you well enough to know you’re not going to let this go.

“I do some pretty hard shit, yeah?” He starts, and you nod in response. “And I’ve trained for it. And I’m good at it. But it can still be pretty fucking brutal.”

Simon’s gaze trails to the side, and you recognize the far-away look in his eyes. You know specific memories are playing back in his mind, ones that he only mumbles about in the dead of night as you do your best to root him in reality from the night terrors. You’re scared to even breathe too loud at the risk of shattering the moment.

Simon takes a steadying breath before he continues, his gaze coming back to yours.

“The one thing that gets me through all of that shit is knowing that you’re here. That you’re safe.”

“What you do—waiting for me, not knowing if I’m okay, not knowing what’s going on, being in the dark like that. I can’t imagine that. I don’t think—“ he breaks off, swallowing hard before continuing. “I don’t think I could do that.”

His words hit you like a blow to the stomach.

“Simon,” you sigh, your shoulders deflating, all of the fight leaving your body at his admission.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” he soldiers on, “And I know I sound like the world’s biggest hypocritical prick right now. But please, love,” his tone takes on an exasperated edge and his hand leaves your face as he runs it through his hair. Another sigh falls from his lips, and you wish you could take back every word of this stupid spat. “Please just think about it for a while longer. For me?”

Simon’s pleading eyes fall to yours and you can’t hold back anymore. You rise up on your tiptoes, though even still he has to lean down to meet your lips. The kiss is a tender, soft thing. Simon’s hand rises to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling you even closer to him.

You break the kiss first, tilting your head back only slightly, giving yourself just enough room to utter your acquiescence.

“Okay,” you mutter breathlessly, at a loss for words after such a pure proclamation of affection from your otherwise indomitable lover.

“Okay?” Simon asks, relief dripping from the singular word, and you silently curse your stubborn streak for causing such unease in the man you love, even if only momentarily.

“Okay,” you sigh into his lips as you lean in closer.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon “ghost” Riley

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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months

Text

Courting Spider

Pairing: Spider x Na'vi Male OC

Masterlist AO3

Summary: It's time that someone takes care of Spider for once. Zhali is up for the task.

Warnings: aged up Spider/Sully kids, explicit, MDNI, male x male, size difference, Na'vi x human pairing, oral, insecurities, angst, trauma, injury, blood, perfectionism, Spider just needs to be loved, etc.

A/N: Wow, this took a while but it is finally here. Not too confident with some of the writing style for ths one but hopefully it still makes sense.

“What about the back panel?”

“Useless.” Zhali quickly interjects, weaving the soft fabric together with practiced precision. Lo’ak huffs slightly, titling his head as he watches the male work on the small piece of clothing.

“He’s not going to wear it with his ass out, brother.”

Zhali rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. He will never understand the Sky Demon’s obsession with modesty. Clothing should allow one to move freely and if it shifts from one way to the other, so what? Who would truly notice, anyways?

Well, he supposes, were it Spider he himself would notice.

And suddenly all that Zhali can think about is getting a glimpse of the little Tawtute’s bum, just another peek at that beautifully soft and squishing form of his. As tempting as the idea is, however, it does have him editing his original claim. If he has interest in seeing that sculpted ass, surely other Na’vi or even Sky Demons could have the same intentions.

He decides to weave together a back panel after all. Besides, once the small Sky Demon has been courted and agrees to mate with him, it may be more rewarding to have that area of his mate revealed to his eyes only. That thought has the slightest curve of a smile lacing his lips.

Lo’ak, as always, is one to notice the shift in demeanor, but he pays the other male no mind. After all, there would have been no chance of executing this courting properly without Lo’ak’s insights. Zhali thanks the Great Mother that he has close enough ties with someone Spider considers his best friend. Otherwise, how else would he know how to make a loincloth for the boy in the first place? Or not to leave dead kills at the outpost’s front entrance as a courting gift?

Lo’ak’s information is irreplaceable. It’s hard enough to wrap his mind around the different customs and concerns of a small tawtute, let alone court one without any insight in the first place.

Although it may seem unconventional to some Na’vi, opinions that he has heard personally from some friends and family, Zhali knows that there is no one else for him besides Spider.

He can still recall the spark of interest that had been there during their adolescence, watching the small boy with golden hair saunter across the forest confidently. He had moved with a grace and agility that Zhali had never witnessed from a Tawtute. Back then, his small crush was poorly nourished as his parents tried their hardest to keep him from spending too much time around Sky Demons. Searching to become a warrior and clan member that would make his parents proud, Zhali had refrained from stepping out of bounds.

There were small moments he had caught with the so-called monkey boy, but it was always in the presence of others.

The night of Spider’s capture had been a core memory for Zhali. He recalls it as the night he truly began his path to adulthood. Regret and dread had laced his gut as he realized his own cowardice had broken any real chance at connecting with the other male. It shifted his perspective, pushing him forward until he had made himself a promise that night.

Never again would he let criticism and judgment keep him from following his heart’s desires.

It was only the direct command and even surveillance from the new Olo’eyktan that had kept him from storming Hell’s gate as a one man army.

Those years apart had been painful, but they had shaped him into the man he is today, the man he needed to become. There had been slight relief that came from hearing of Spider reuniting with the Sully family across the sea. However, he could never erase the sting of missed opportunity.

Following the footsteps of his father and other warriors, Zhali had channeled this pressing emotion into his training. The sun would barely be upon the horizon before Zhali began his daily grind. He had excelled in every aspect that a young warrior could, spending extra hours training alone with only the glowing light of eclipse for aiding sight. When he had pushed himself in every aspect of hunting, fighting, and gathering possible he had moved on to homemaking skills.

Now, sitting here with only a few months of weaving underneath his fingertips, he’s proud to find the garment an attractive item thus far. A surprising fact considering how his discipline and attention has slipped upon the Sully family’s return. Or rather, Spider’s return.

Seeing the small tawtute advance from behind the Sully family, hair somehow turned a lighter shade of gold and arm adorned with shelled jewelry, Zhali had felt like a child once more. The Great Mother had been kind to him, advancing his form into that of a true muscled warrior and adorning him with skills that were far beyond anything the could’ve dreamed about at fifteen, but none of that seemed to matter when faced with Spider once more. His stomach had tightened into a million different knots, tail swinging and ears flickering desperately as he took in the beautiful male before him.

Although taken aback and slightly nervous, something he would never admit, Zhali had expressed these emotions in the best way he knew how; hard work. The family had only been home for little more than a moon cycle but the male’s courting plans were already underway. His consultation with Lo’ak had informed him that the beautiful tawtute was in fact still unmated. He figured that the Metkayina Na’vi knew nothing of real value placed in their laps if they had somehow managed to miss courting such an exquisite creature.

Nevertheless, he is grateful for their insolence.

The yearnings of his heart have never ceased and Zhali would have his soul taken up to Eywa before he’d let this chance slip away again.

“You’re sure about this color?” He murmurs, concentrating on the intricate trim to lace the sides. Next to him Lo’ak lounges along the marui floor with one leg propped as he bites into the delicious fruit he missed oh so much. Golden eyes flicker over to the intricate pattern of green material, different shades popping out in precise patterns.

“Well he did complain about there not being enough green on Awalatuu.”

“I asked you what his favorite color was.” Zhali huffs out, finally letting the unfinished garment rest on his lap. Lo’ak hardly flinches under the glare he receives, simply shrugging his shoulders before continuing to eat.

“I know. Figure it must be green if he complained about its absence so much.”

It’s not fair to bite back at the hand that feeds him. Zhali knows this. He repeats it in his head over and over again. If there is one thing that he has learned about Spider it’s that no one treats the poor boy the way he deserves. Lo’ak and Kiri are the closest things that the small human has to friends, but even they have other parts of their lives that pull their attention away from him. There are always other obligations and personal problems that come first before Spider and to Zhali’s dismay, the boy accepts it.

Being left in the shadows is something that has become natural to Spider in his life. The Sully family takes him in, but never with the attitude of treating him like their very own. The scientists at the lab have watched over him since he was a child but not one of them was truly a parent. They too, have their own worries and concerns. Most are too focused on their own research and work to really prioritize raising a child.

That familiar lingering of guilt resurfaces when Zhali remembers that he too let Spider remain hostage with those Demons for months on end, not one rescue party sent after him.

It’s a fact that haunts him to this day, but he vows to leave all those mistakes behind. Spider will be safe and taken care of in his arms, by his side and treated with the love and respect that he deserves. For the first time in the boy’s life, he will know what it means to be someone’s first priority.

Spider can still feel Neteyam’s curious glances thrown his way as they walk silently back to the human outpost. With the small bundle of fine fabric carefully clasped in his hands, it feels like a small eternity before the human boy can comprehend the turn of events. Upon his return to the Omatikaya clan Spider had assumed that most outside of a few humans from the lab outpost would remember him, let alone receive a courting gift from one of the clan’s finest Na’vi males.

Is that what this is? A courting gift?

Although, Zhali had used all the proper words one would upon extending a courting gift and beaming at Spider’s acceptance, it’s still difficult to be one hundred percent certain that is what had occurred. The ogling he had done over the garment in front Zhali had been taken in with a smile bursting of pride that seared into Spider’s countenance. The blush that erupted over his tan skin wasn’t even comprehensible until the heat was enough to have him sweating underneath the glass of his mask.

Looking back, Spiders knows that his gratitude had been little more a stumbling of thank you’s and rambled thoughts that hardly finished into full sentences. It didn’t seem to matter, however, as Zhali had left the pair with a stride that made him look as if he was walking on clouds. Truthfully, Spider often makes that comparison when watching the male prance along the forest with ease. He wouldn’t necessarily call it ogling….just keen observations that he can’t help but make.

Neteyam had been almost entirely silent during the exchange and when Zhali had broken away, his only comment had been something about the smooth fabric being made of rare materials only present in the Hallelujah mountains. Spider had done nothing more than nod in response. Now, meeting up with Lo’ak once more, Neteyam jumps in to relay the scene to his younger brother. Lo’ak simply smirks and shoots Spider a wink.

It punches through his blood and once again Spider finds sweat gathering at the edges of his mask. He knows his friend better than he would like to at times, so he knows that looks like that always come with a reason from Lo’ak. He seems neither surprised nor reluctant to let that signature smirk show.

Perhaps it isn’t in his head after all.

A courting gift for him.

Made specifically for him.

It’s disheartening when Spider realizes that he never expected to receive one of these.

He makes an excuse about needing rest in order to get away from the Sully brothers as soon as possible. Once back inside the common area of the outpost, he flings the sweat mask off of his face and to the side carelessly.

“Spider.” Norm sighs from his work station. No words are needed to show that he does not approve of the boy’s disregard of the equipment.

“Busy.” Spider rushes out before practically sprinting to his room. That is if it can be called a room. It’s a corner of the outpost that Spider had managed to claim for himself with old drapes hung up messily for privacy and a hammock strung up that he had made himself. His greatest and most rare possession however was a floor length mirror. Spider had gone through Hell and back in order to get it here. And by Hell, he meant literal Hell’s Gate where the RDA had left their fancy gear behind the first time.

He rushes to throw the bag of fruit to the side and shuffles himself over onto the bed. The soft cloth is unfolded as if he is about to handle the rarest of Pandora’s diamonds and to Spider it might as well be. Perhaps even more valuable considering the rarity.

The fabric slipped along his fingers like the sway of a rushing river, a smooth effortless motion. His own grimy hands caked with dirt and a hint of blood from rough housing with Neteyam look horrifying next to the carefully crafted garment. In fact, it’s enough to have Spider setting the piece to the side and rushing to the bathroom so he can wash his hands. It would be a shame to ruin the loincloth so quickly simply because of his bad hygiene.

Stomping past Norm and the other lounging scientists he tries to ignore him.

“Kid, what have I told you about leaving your mask on the ground?” Norm huffs but Spider is already closing the door to the cramped bathroom.

He may have been a teenager when he was captured by the RDA but now has come into full adulthood. Something Norm seems to have a hard time understanding. Spider doesn’t care how much water he hogs in order to get every speck of dirt and grime from his hands. He only leaves the cramped bathroom when his skin is scrubbed raw and red.

Leaning back against the woven hammock he allows himself the proper time to just admire the details of his new gift. It’s a beautiful emerald green with precise stitching that works to outline patterns of leaves and greenery. Under the harsh light of the outpost bulbs, the boy admires the way the thread glimmers with the shift of light. He thanks Eywa that it has a back panel. It may be something he is used to seeing with Na’vi but Spider can not imagine having his own ass hanging out of his loincloth, especially without a tail for it to wrap around.

Once he finally wrangles up the courage to try on the loincloth he is amazed to see how perfectly it fits. The fabric is like silk against his rough skin. Or at least what he remembers silk to feel like from that one time another scientist let him touch her silk pillowcase. The band is woven of various colored threads and twine that come together to create criss cross patterns. His fingers brush them softly in a silent reverence.

Spider looks at the mirror and allows himself to drink in the sight. Most days, the boy uses the mirror to simply swat at his dreadlock hair or repaint the blue stripes on his skin, but never can he remember a time that he uses it to admire himself. To look at his appearance head on and feel something more than indifference or longing to be a version of himself that is blue and a few feet taller.

Being a human is something that Spider has learned to make peace with, but that doesn’t mean he particularly likes the look of himself. The blue stripes help slightly to cover the extra squish of his body that is normally nonexistent across Na’vi stomachs. With the beautiful garment now fitted perfectly to his hips, Spider notices for the first time how good a color besides blue looks on him.

The heap of leather that is his usual loincloth seems like nothing more than a discarded washcloth now. Jake had been the one to show him how to weather the material and fashion it into clothing but from there the job had been his own to update the garment in stride with his growth spurts.

The loincloth is so clean and pristine in comparison to the rest of Spider’s appearance that for a moment he considers putting it away for safekeeping. What would happen if he tore a hole in it or got dirt rubbed into the careful stitching? It’s too beautiful to take the risk.

However, when his fingers start to undo the carefully tied knots at the sides, he catches another glance of himself in the mirror and he hesitates. It looks so much better than before. He looks so much better than before. Maybe it has nothing to do with the loincloth’s quality at all. Perhaps it’s the careful thought and effort put into such an extraordinary gift. A thought for him. Just him and only him.

One simple reminder that someone thinks he is worthy of nice things.

Spider allows himself the privilege of wearing this reminder throughout the day.

Zhali does not have many opportunities to spend time with Spider, especially without the company of others. Most nights he only gets to share a few sentence exchanges with the boy before either him or Spider is pulled away by their responsibilities or nagging friends. It doesn’t kill his spirits, however, not when he notices how beautiful the tawtute looks wearing his courting gift. Pride swells to the size of a balloon in his chest upon seeing how perfect the fit is. This feeling only inflates to new bounds when he sees Spider wear the garment every day without fail.

Having been entrusted with leading one of the hunting parties on a daily basis, Zhali finds himself daydreaming about the male between patrols and petting down the direhorse. The other Na’vi in the crew do not fail to notice his shift in demeanor. Although some of them spread rumors that it has to do with Zhali’s unbridled affection for a certain golden haired tawtute, no one goes out of their way too complain. Controversial or not, Zhali is more forgiving of their mistakes when he is in high spirits. It matters not that it comes from a small Sky Demon.

Lo’ak continues to assist Zhali in preparing another gift for Spider. This time they settle on weaving together a simple but stunning armband. Surprisingly this requires more experience and skill than the loincloth but he has never been one to back away from the struggle that comes from picking up a new trade. Zhali’s fingers work tirelessly as Lo’ak chatters on about the Metkayina clan and what adventures he missed.

Later that night Zhali listens to the encroaching thunder that rumbles in the distance. Even his direhorse hesitates in his stride but he urges him forward. There is less than an hour left of his patrol and then he will return to his carefully crafted hut to get some much needed rest. However, now the sound of thunder and lightning is becoming more pressing and the male becomes less and less sure of how soon that sleep will come.

It comes as no surprise when the first drops of rain quickly picks up into a full downpour. Lo’ak grumbles next to him, but Zhali ignores the other male’s mumbled curses and directs them to split up so more ground can be covered. They might as well check up on the family huts and make sure everyone has the sufficient coverings and supplies needed for the storm.

It’s when he’s wading through the heavy greenery and wiping water from his eyes that Zhali catches sight of something peculiar. He follows the movement of bushes slowly, urging the direhorse to tread carefully. With the blanket of falling rain it’s difficult to identify the small creature wading through the greenery. Judging by the amount of rustle it creates, Zhali concludes that the creature must be either injured or panicking in the storm. He urges the horse to prowl closer as the rain pelts against his back mercilessly.

It becomes near impossible to see anything in the thick greenery but there is a series of snapping branches and he watches as the beast comes tumbling down the hill. It rolls and crashes along the greenery before finally hitting the bottom of a tree trunk with a grunt. Through the thick sheet of rain, Zhali finally catches a glimpse of golden hair flying in the wind.

Spider!

He’s off the direhorse within a heartbeat and racking through the thick leaves moments later. Spider is sprawled out on the muddy ground, limbs stretched in every direction. The boy blinks, seemingly trying to comprehend the turn of events.

“Spider.” Unintentionally Zhali words come out as a hiss. The Na’vi searches over the boy’s body frantically to see if there are any fatal wounds. With limited light it’s difficult to fully see where the sources of blood are so he shifts to use his fingertips to feel for wounds. Spider simply groans and stares up at him through slitted eyes as Zhali weaves through his hair in search of a head injury. He prays to the Great Mother that he won’t find one.

The Sky Demon’s small body is covered in mud and littered with a plethora of bruises and bleeding scrapes. Luckily, none of these injuries appear to be more serious than the deeper cut over his shoulder. It will require bandaging and a series of healing ointments to prevent infection. Zhali is already running through the list of healing procedures he plans to execute on the boy when Spider’s voice finally breaks him out of the trance.

“Hey.” Spider speaks in a gravelly hushed tone. “I-I’m ok.” He goes to sit up but a large blue hand covering half of his chest, gently pushes him back down. “Sorry I just lost my grip….got a little disoriented but…yeah sorry.”

“You’re bleeding.” Zhali says bluntly.

Spider looks down to see a smear of red painting his shoulder. Zhali watches his reaction with perked ears and pointed tail on alert but Spider simply knits his brows together and shrugs. However, the small being is unable to hide the grimace that flashes across his features. It has become a real effort on Zhali’s part to learn the ways of reading human expression, especially ones covered by those ridiculous masks. It can be incredibly frustrating trying to read one’s reaction without a flickering tail or ears to give away the boy’s state.

“Oh shit, yeah, I guess I am. It’s ok…the outpost has a first aid kit so…”

It’s then Zhali’s turn to scrunch his features in confusion.

A first aid kit? Is that another one of those Sky Demon inventions those scientists are so fond of? Once Zhali had snuck down with Lo’ak and Neteyam when they were teens to the outpost and he had caught sight of things beyond his wildest imagination…or rather wildest horrors. He had watched as giant trunk shaped contraption fold around a human before sucking him into the wall. Lo’ak and Neteyam had later explained that these were the devices used by the Avatars to dream walk. Zhali could never erase how similar it had looked to the coffins that Jake had once described, the constricting box made to bury dead bodies.

Would they put Spider in there too? Or something else? Perhaps this first aid kit would be even worse.

No. He would not be returning to the outpost for those horrors. Zhali is more than capable of patching up the injuries and giving Spider the care he truly deserves.

“No need, come. I will take you home.” Zhali says while carefully helping the boy to finally sit up. Spider’s lips purse for a moment as if he is about to say something but he must have read that wrong because it disappears just as quickly as it came and the small tawtute remains silent.

It is, however, when Zhali easily lifts the male into his arms that Spider strings together a nervous onslaught of objections.

“Oh woah, hey it’s ok. I can walk. I-I’m not really that hurt-”

Lightning strikes across the night sky. Thunder is quick to follow and by the sounds of deep rumbling, Zhali is confident that the storm is only about to get worse. Spider squeaks when he is easily lifted onto the direhorse without response. The other male makes quick work of sliding in behind him and reconnecting tsaheylu before the direhorse becomes too freaked out by the tawtute’s presence. It’s almost second nature to slip his forearms securely around Spider’s waist, keeping him safely atop the creature.

He can feel the boy shiver in his embrace, but it’s difficult to tell whether it is from his touch or the relentless onslaught of rain.

“Thanks.” Spider’s mumble barely rings audible over the storm’s fury. The small sound still manages to bring a smile to Zhali’s face as he nods back in recognition and they begin their journey back towards the village.

Despite the fact that Spider is conscious and not nearly as injured as he could’ve been, he is anxious to get the human to the healer’s tent as soon as possible. This urgency only increases when he can physically feel the boy’s body shaking like a leaf in the wind. His arm tightens around the small male, hoping to let some of his own natural body heat transfer over to him. It’s disconcerting to see how easily a little tawtute can be affected by the elements. It serves as another reminder of how fragile the pretty boy truly is. It’s easy to forget at times when Spider is swinging from branches like a monkey, but now all he can see in his mind’s eyes is the replay of his small body tumbling down the steep decline helplessly.

It’s then that Zhalie remembers the cloak he has packed away by the saddle. He manages to wrap the thick fabric around both of them. It covers Spider completely and to the male’s delight he finds that the human curls up against his warm chest. He’s satisfied to find that this solution keeps the pelting rain from attacking Spider any further.

Zhali is made for these types of elements but he can only imagine how Spider’s small fragile body could be reacting to such harsh conditions. He makes a mental note to learn more about human anatomy in the coming days. Perhaps Lo’ak could arrange some sort of meeting with one of the remaining medical Sky Demons at the outpost. He hates the smell of chemicals and sterilized metal there but it would be preferable to the real feeling of inadequacy he has now.

To his horror Zhali finds that the pathway to Tshaik’s tents has already eroded into a rushing stream and the tent itself is completely abandoned. He checks in with the Olo’eyktan over the throat comm and comes to find that Mo’at has fled to higher ground with the injured and sick to wait out the storm. With Spider barely conscious in his curled up position against him, Zhali decides that the only logical course of action is to bring the boy back to his kelku for the night.

No matter, there are sure to be enough supplies at his home to patch Spider up and take care of him before the condition gets worse.

Or at least, that is what he mentally assures himself over and over again until they reach the trunk of his kelku.

Zhali is forced to let Spider crawl up the trunk himself as the tawtute is less than willing to let himself be carried again. He considers overriding this decision but he figures it’s already lucky enough that the blonde hasn’t insisted on being dropped off at the outpost instead. He takes the tender mercy in stride and makes sure to be below the boy in case he manage to slip, constantly ready to catch him if needs be.

Zhali is in full action mode as he goes about efficiently securing the waterproof drapes. Spider hangs back, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. Once the task is finished he turns around to find the boy’s arms wrapped around himself, seemingly curling up in on himself as trembles still wrack his body. It is such stark contrast to the usual confident and sassy demeanor that Spider upholds. Whether it is from the cold or the slightly traumatic situation, Zhali vows to coax the boy into being at ease as soon as possible.

“I-it’s nice.” Spider manages to mumble out before audibly clearing his throat. Those hazel eyes roam over the darkened room as Zhali makes quick work of building a small fire and setting a pot of water over to warm. His own eyes stray from the fire to recall what state his kelku has been left in. Luckily, he has always had a knack for organization and creating a cozy environment in his home. Still, there is no saying what a Sky Person considers to be cozy when it comes to decor. He prays to Eywa that Spider’s preferences are not aligned with that of the suffocating and hard steel in the human outpost.

“Thank you.”

Spider tries to hide the wince that graces his features when he rolls his shoulder, but even in the dim glow of a fire, Zhali can clearly see the distress.

“Come. You are bleeding.” He motions Spider forward and luckily the boy does not protest.

Spider does, however, hesitate as those hazel eyes scan over the empty span thoughtfully. Zhali starts to think something is wrong but then it dawns on him. The boy’s body is speckled with mud and blood. Spider seems all too aware of this as he carefully squats over the clean woven floor.

Of course this must be just Spider’s way of trying to be a polite guest while in his home, but it frustrates Zhali more than he expects. The beautiful human squats over the woven material as if he is unworthy to touch it. This behavior extends to all aspects of their encounter in the space as Spider is more than cautious to let himself enjoy any of the comforting ambience that Zhali has created in the space. He creeps into the area like an intruder, waiting to be shooed away.

And it breaks Zhali’s heart. It shatters him to pieces to think that Spider would ever act in such a way when his presence alone is something to be celebrated. It’s borderline disappointing to think that Zhali has spent all this time over the past few weeks slowly preparing his kelku to become a welcoming place that Spider would be enticed to call his own someday, just for the boy to shy away from associating with it.

“Sit.” Zhali puts a little more intensity behind the words than intended. He mentally curses at himself when Spider flinches in response but the human is already setting himself down gently.

“The bleeding isn’t that bad.” Spider claims, but how would he know when the injury stretches across his right shoulder blade?

Zhali goes to see for himself, reaching his enormously large hands towards the small creature, but then he pauses.

“May I check?”

He idly notices that Spider’s breathing is no longer fogging up the glass of his mask? Has he stopped breathing? Was there something wrong with it? Oh Eywa, how does one fix that little thing if there is?

“Yeah.”

The response is more of a puff of air than real words. Zhali allows himself to breathe now.

Settling behind Spider feels natural and oddly comforting. He enjoys the way his body is haunched over the small blonde, as if he could create a Na’vi shield over the boy if any danger were to arise. The idea strokes his male pride for a moment until he remembers that he failed to shield Spider earlier. When…when he…

“How did this happen?”

“Well it was….you see….” Spider struggles before finally sagging with a sigh. “I fell.” Defeat is apparent in his tone.

Zhali can not decide if he finds this explanation better or worse than the images he had conjured up. The thought of thanator claws scraping at the small being was terrifying, but then again, is it not more concerning to see that a simple fall is all it takes to injure him? This beautiful tawtute truly is so fragile. A simple misstep is all it would take to put him in danger.

Spider appears to be thinking the same thing, but if the red cheeks and deep frown are anything to go by, it’s embarrassment rather than fear that rises to the surface.

“Tawtute, this cut is deep. From how high did you tumble?” He tries his best to clean the cut with the rag as gently as possible, monitoring every flinch and shudder that ripples through Spider.

“My bow got stuck up in the canopy. Thought I could get it down.”

“It is still there?”

Spider nods.

“We will get it in the morning.” Zhali concludes smoothly as he dips the soft cloth back into the now warmed water. He checks it against his own skin first. The male may not know much about human anatomy but it’s clear that their response to the elements is more dramatic than his own. He would hate to accidentally expose the boy to any more harsh temperatures for the night. Once it is sufficiently clear that the rag is at a soothingly warm degree, he begins to glide it over Spider’s back.

“Thanks I uh…I was kind of clumsy I guess. You don’t have to come with me in the morning though, I’m sure I can manage a bit better this time.” Spider rambles.

“I will not if you wish not for my company.”

“No no, it’s not that.” Zhali peeks around the boy’s shoulder easily, braids swinging down as he openly observes the male’s expression. Spider’s turn a brighter shade of pink. Zhali finds he quite likes that shade. “Of course I would love for you to come. I just uh don’t want to make you go out of your way for me.”

“You are never out of the way, Spider.” He sighs, tail curling in irritation. He shouldn’t need to make that clear, especially after efforts he has started towards his courtship. “You are the way.”

He surveys the boy’s expression, but without twitching ears and a moving tail to give him away, it feels impossible to sense the shift in emotion there. He slowly retreats, not wanting to scare him off any more with the staring, but he lingers just long enough to see Spider catch his bottom lip between those blunt teeth. It’s a cute habit that Zhali has noticed from him, but one that he is still trying to understand fully.

It’s obvious what his own response to the action is as his tewng grows uncomfortable, but that does little to help him decode Spider. Not to mention it makes him feel like an untrained teenager all over again, drooling at just about anything.

“Spider.”

He feels the boy straighten underneath his hands.

“Yeah?”

“What is your favorite color?”

“What?”

Zhali is pleased to find that the area around the wound is finally clean and ready for bandaging.

“Color. What is your favorite color?” He repeats. Spider only flinches slightly as he begins to lay the leaves covered in ointment over the small wound. He has to rip them into small pieces a few times so they don’t cover the whole expanse of Spider’s back. Doing so, however, draws his attention to the rest of the boy’s muddied and artificially stripped skin. Long fingers itch to reach for the warm rag again.

“I um…I don’t know. Never really thought about it before.”

Zhali’s eyebrows knit together. He is soon regretting his decision to sit behind the tawtute where he can’t even depend on the minor fluctuations of his small facial expressions for context. His tail thumps against the woven floor incidentally, but at least Spider can’t see that. When the urge becomes too strong, Zhali hesitantly starts running the warm cloth over the rest of Spider’s back.

“What do you say when people ask?” He takes Spider’s lack of flinching as a token of permission, scrubbing the dirt away from his tan skin with the gentlest touch he can muster. It’s interesting to see the way his skin turns a light pink after only a few strokes of the warm rag. It appears that Sky People’s skin is extremely sensitive and expressive to every substance it comes in contact with. He is pleased however to see that Spider’s muscles have begun to relax underneath each stroke and the shaking of his body has puttered out to a small vibration.

“Well I don’t think anyone has ever asked me before to be honest.” Spider tries to slip in a small laugh but it’s strained. Those tiny four fingered hands come to gather his dreads and push them to the side before fondling them absently.

Of course he knows that Lo’ak didn’t know the boy’s favorite color but for no one to ask? Never? By Eywa, what do the strange scientists at the lab that supposedly raised this male talk to him about? The negligence is infuriating and yet Zhali knows he shouldn’t be surprised. From the interactions he has seen between them, Norm acts more like a close friend than anything resembling a parental figure.

Spider pauses, head tilted as he ponders the question.

“I suppose red is not a bad one. Like the red from sunsets.”

Zhali’s lips turn down.

“Not green.” Disappointment lays heavy in his stomach, He should’ve known better than to trust Lo’ak as his source of information.

“Green? Oh you mean cause of the loincloth. It doesn’t really-” Spider cuts himself off, turning silent as he looks down.

Zhali’s ear perk forehead, wondering if he has somehow missed the end of that sentence.

“Shit.” Spider whispers to himself.

Peering over the boy’s golden dreads, Zhali finally finds the source of Spider’s silence. A jagged rip through the side of the loincloth.

“Fuck I- Damnit, I didn’t realize and now….” Spider hunches forward inspecting it frantically. “I’ve ruined it. All for my stupid fucking bow.” He grits out. “You worked so hard on it and I-”Spider gulps, voice heavy with emotion.

“I will make another one.”

“No no, you shouldn’t have to…..I-I’m sorry.”

Zhali catches sight of glimmering tears welding over the boy’s eyes, ones that he refuses to shed. His heartbeat picks up more erratically when Spider allows his dreads to form a curtain over his face.

“Spider, it is fine. I will make a new one. This time red.” As it should have been from the beginning. This would be his chance to redeem himself and give Spider the courting gift he truly deserved. Hesitantly he reaches out to sweep that golden hair away but Spider reels back.

“Another one? N-no I cant ask that. It’s my fault I ruined it…it was…”

“The wrong color. I understand, tawtute.”

“No no no it….it was fucking perfect.” Spider sniffles and more than anything Zhali wishes he could see the boy properly, get that damn mask out of the way so he could wipe away the tears. “The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” It’s whispered so soft and reverant that the Na’vi almost questions whether or not he heard it properly.

It would be easier not to believe it.

Easier to believe that there were greater gestures the boy has received over the years than some simple pieces of clothing.

Zhali shifts forward, boldly sweeping the hair away so he can clearly see Spider’s sparkling eyes.

“You deserve so much more than this.” He can see the boy’s lungs still with air. “So much more than a courting gift in the wrong color. More than a simple garment that pales in comparison to your beauty.” Spider’s blunt teeth naw at those soft pink lips. “More than jewels and bracelets. More than all the beauties of Pandora combined.”

It’s as if the boy is frozen in time, air no longer passing through those lips. It’s borderline impossible to understand if this is a good or bad sign, but the truth is bursting from the seams, no longer willing to be kept prisoner.

“You deserve a mate that will care for you. One that truly sees you.” Zhali catches a golden strand, tucking it behind Spider’s ear. Oh how he wishes to bury his face in that hair, to fully let the beautiful tawtute’s scent to sink in.

His stomach twists into a bundle of knots but the words come regardless.

“I see you, Spider.”

Silence stretches between them but Spider’s eyes remain trained on him, pupils blown wide and breath stilled. A new form of anxiety settles itself as the seconds pass without a clear breath coming from him.

“You do not have to say anything. I have only begun courting you after all. I simply thought you should kno-”

Spiders cuts him off with a shake of his head, breath finally exhaled. Nothing, however, matches the horror Zhali feels as the boy reaches to lift his mask.

“No Spider-” He catches his wrist.

“It’s ok.” Spider gently pries the hand from his wrist before taking a deep breath in.

The mask is carefully slipped from his face but Spider gives him a reassuring smile when he spots the concern written over Zhali’s face. And then, the space between them decreases slowly, the boy’s face inching closer to his own until their noses brush. Those big doe eyes flicker between his own heated gaze and lips.

The first point of contact is hesitant and slow, but there is a certain tenderness to that gentle swipe of lips. Spider’s lips are so much smaller than his own, but ever so soft. So many moments have led to this one but his heart continues to race, ever so worried about hurting the small tawtute.

It is Spider, however, that pushes it forward, small tongue swiping at his bottom lip. Zhali allows him. He gives the boy of his dreams access, gives him the world because there is nothing else he can manage to do, not when his wildest fantasies are coming true. Leisurely they each explore one another and melt into the kiss.

He cups Spider face tenderly, hands easily covering each side of his head. He even allows his fingers to softly explore through the sunshine mane. Spider’s hands are more cautious, but every area they trace over has Zhali’s tail swinging back and forth exuberantly.

In some ways this kiss is nothing in comparison to the other sexual rendezvous Zhali has experienced and yet it feels more intimate. Like finally having access to a beautiful masterpiece kept behind glass for so long. Finally getting to cherish Spider’s beautiful face instead of observing from a distance.

At the first jerk of Spider’s chest, Zhali sternly repositions the mask over his face. His emotions swirl from pure elation to trepidation as he waits to hear that first breath.

Spider lets out a small gasp for air, cheeks tinting as his chest expands and caves rapidly. Hands on the boy’s thighs, Zhali leans forward, eyes darting across the mysterious mask to make sure it is working properly.

“Can you breathe?” He reaches forward to mess with the contraption, not that he has any idea how but he can’t help himself.

“Yeah yeah…I can.” Spider lets out an airy laugh. “Well, mostly.”

Zhali’s frown deepens urgency increasing but then he notices that dazed smile over the boy’s face. The giddy look in his eyes as that beautiful blush paints his cheeks once more.

“It’s ok It’s ok.” Spider laughs, small hands prying Zhalil’s own off the mask. “I’m alright. Just a little overwhelmed.”

“You promise, sevin?” Zhali sweetly pushes a few dreads away from Spider’s face, eyes studying him intently.

Once again Zhali watches in awe as that tan skin quickly shifts to a darker shade of red, even traveling over Spider’s collarbones and chest. He follows that blossom of color downwards, eyes caught on the boy’s small nipples now perked in the cool air. He doesn’t try to hide the ogling, not now that the truth is out.

“Y-yes.” Spider stutters.

“Good.” He breathes out, but his hands are already gliding over the soft skin of Spider’s sides. He takes in every reaction like a gift. The way the tawtute shivers when his ribcage is brushed, the way that blush only intensifies with Zhali’s darkening gaze, the way his nipples pebble under his long fingers as if they are aching to be touched.

For so long Spider has been forbidden fruit. For even longer Zhali has dreamed of how this beautiful creature would feel in his hands, the sounds he could draw from him. Sitting here feels like a dream, one beyond his wildest imagination when a small groan escapes Spider.

One hand dares to grip the boy’s left hip while the other swirls over one hardening nipple. Without a tail or ears it can be hard to read Spider but even Zhali can recognize the restraint his beautiful tawtute exhibits as his hips twitch and chest heaves.

Spider’s eyes stray away from the intimate points of contact when Zhali leans forward to rest his temple against his. Breath fogs up the glass.

“Spider”

“Yes?” He whispers.

“Let me take care of you.”

Spider’s thick lashes flutter rapidly as he visibly gulps.

“But I….w-why?” He stutters, as if unable to process the concept.

“Because you deserve it, sevin.” He squeezes his hip gently as Spider stares at him with big hazel eyes. A color that he could easily get lost in. Ones that goes greatly with Spider’s now swollen pink lips.

He has never been so desperate to please such a beautiful being.

“Let me make you feel good, yawne.” Spider’s eyes flutter closed when the Na’vi rakes his longer fingers through his hair. “Please, yawntutsyip.”

Spider melts in the touch, letting the Na’vi cradle the back of his head.

“Let me show you how I’d take care of you if you’d be mine.” His softly scratches along his scalp, delighting in the way Spider’s small form goes slack.

A new spice intertwines with Spider’s scent, filling Zhali’s lungs until it has become his own personal drug.

“Sevin?”

“Y-yes yes, ok yeah I-I…yes.” Spider exhales, words tumbling together.

Zhali grins.

Spider is sure he’s hallucinating. So sure that somewhere in that fall he hit his head a little too hard and now suffers from delusions. It’s the only explanation he has to explain how this god of a Na’vi has decided to please him. The only way he can comprehend not only being allowed in his kelku but furthermore have those sharp teeth tracing over his abs.

Looking down at the male who kisses and nips at his body like it’s art made just for him, Spider is content to let this hallucination continue. He will spend the rest of his life in this dream if it means staying cradled in his arms, if it means feeling that hot tongue explore his body intimately.

True intimacy can be hard to come by for Spider.

Kiri tries and Jake will occasionally ruffle his hair but it does little to satiate what he really needs. Now, however, seems to be the worst time to realize how touch starved he is. It’s embarrassing how difficult it is to keep himself from squirming or God forbid even bucking up into every touch and kiss.

It’s worse than being a teenager in his hammock trying to get himself off. At least then he was in the privacy of his own company but Zhali’s touch is like lightning in comparison to his own. His hands are so much larger that when the Na’vi goes to cup his head or slink down his chest, it covers the expanse easily.

It’s when Zhali pushes him down with a hand to his chest that Spider realizes he might be into their size difference more than he anticipated.

Neck craning to watch Zhali litter kisses along his lower abdomen, he burns in mortification when he spots his own boner through the green loincloth. He wants to believe that Zhali has not noticed this before but even he knows that Na’vi have greatly enhanced senses.

Fuck, he most likely already can smell his arousal, let alone see it.

His blunt teeth sink into his bottom lip harder as he holds back the jumble of moans that threaten to break loose.

It’s pathetic.

Already in adulthood and yet all it takes for him to rut like a hormonal teenager are a few well placed kisses and bites.

Open mouthed kisses are meticulously placed along his v line until he has reached his right hip. Something sharp draws along his skin and Spider sees the Na’vi’s teeth bared. Their eyes connect for a moment and it appears to be all the confirmation that Zhali requires before he takes the plush flesh into his mouth and sucks hard.

A shocked cry falls from Spider’s lips as his back arches.

Pain and pleasure dance together in symphony when those impressive teeth come into play. What has his legs shaking, however, is the knowledge that it will leave a mark. Even humans know what such a display means.

A marking to show he is being courted.

A marking to show that he is wanted and desired by a male prospect.

“Am I hurting you, sevin?”

It takes a moment for the words to register.

“Wh- oh no no. You’re not.”

“Hm, good.” Looking up through his lashes Zhali keeps their gazes pinned as he lays a tender kiss over the new mark. Those lips skate over his skin until reaching the intricate ties of his loincloth.

Hands holding the male’s thighs apart, Zhali carefully secures a tie between his teeth and begins to pull. Watching that knot unravel feels like the longest seconds of Spider’s life. He isn’t sure if he needs it to speed up or slow down because his brain can hardly process what is to come.

It isn’t his first time being bare before a Na’vi. Admittedly, other Na’vi, even among the Metkayina have had their curiosity sparked by Spider. Some shuffled him away with a rushed exploration and desperate touching that became all the sex life Spider had ever known. However, those had only left him unsatisfied and lonely again at the end of the night.

This is different, however.

Zhali, although curious, doesn’t explore him for his own pleasure but rather Spider’s.

He takes in every new discovery and change like a masterpiece meant to be worshiped. He watches for the slightest flinch to signal a change and the smallest twitches of pleasure to indicate what spikes the boy’s pleasure.

And when the silky loincloth falls away, the same one that Zhali had spent weeks carefully crafting especially for him, he doesn’t rush to grip or stroke. His heated gaze is the first thing to caress him, and then his voice.

“So magnificent, my tawtute.”

Spider can already feel himself trembling. This new emotion bubbling forward does not make it easier to gather restraint, to stop himself from appearing like a desperate lonely fool in front of this gorgeous man.

Zhali kisses right next to the base and Spider forces himself to look away.

This gentle worship does things to him that he could never have imagined and therefore could never have prepared for. He can’t watch this any longer without losing the reins.

He can feel himself twitch as soft kisses are placed one by one around the base until every inch has been covered. Toes curling, Spider attempts to slow down his heartbeat.

“Spider”

“Huh?”

He peaks to find Zhali looking up at him, large golden orbs taking in every flinch in his expression.

“I am not hurting you?” He checks again.

“No no, of course not.” Spider chokes out, ears growing hot at the tremor in his voice.

“Hm, I see.” He hums before his fingertips start drawing soft patterns over his hips. “You are tense, sevin.”

His stomach flips.

“Fuck, yeah I know, I-I’m sorry. I understand if-”

Zhali hushes him sweetly, crawling forward to cup his face once more.

“Spider,” His name from Zhali’s lips sounds like a song. “Do you want this?”

He doesn’t enjoy how fast he is nodding his head.

“Yes. I do, shit yeah I do. I’ll keep it together, I'm sorry.”

Zhali is shaking his head before he can even finish the sentence.

“Sevin, do not apologize.” Zhali’s slim tail wraps itself around his calf and Spider has to hide the tremor along his lips. “I only need one thing from you.”

Spider gulps, leaning forward and ready to take the criticism.

“I need you to relax.”

Spider flushes, fighting back the urge to gulp down the knot in his throat.

“Yeah o-okay.”

Zhali is less than convinced but a warm smile crosses his lips. His fingers intertwine with the boy’s hair once more before he is raking them through those golden locks. The reaction is immediate, pleasurable shivers dissipating through Spider’s body.

Never before had he realized how sensitive he is to this gesture but now with those gentle movements massaging his scalp, Spider feels like he could melt into molten gold. Zhali runs his face along the curve of his neck, marking him with his scent.

The hand in his hair is used to tilt Spider’s head back and give him better access. A breath wooshes from the boy’s lungs.

“Just focus on what you feel, sevin.”

Soft lips lay a kiss behind his ear.

“What feels good,” Zhali continues.

Another kiss, this time to his pulse point.

“What feels different.”

Zhali’s textured tongue drags along his skin languidly. Spider hardly registers his own groan as he lets his weight fall into the Na’vi embrace.

“What you want more of.”

When the male begins sucking a hickey into the side of his neck, Spider can no longer keep a cap on his noises. A string of whines and moans fall from his lips as he finds rest in the moment. Eyes closed and mouth agape, he forgets where he is.

He forgets who he is.

He forgets who he is not.

And Spider lets each exhilarating sensation guide his decisions.

“Good boy.” Zhali whispers warmly against his pulse, licking over the mark to soothe.

His hands firmly run down Spider’s sides, squeezing it greedily until his presence can not be forgotten. Taking control of every curve and line, Zhali plays him like an instrument. Spider lays back against the matt, golden hair creating a crown around him. Hazel eyes dilate before fluttering closed when soft kisses are left along his inner thighs.

Sounds erupt from him that Spider doesn’t recognize when Zhali’s tongue begins exploring his length. His body buzzes with a new energy, nerves a lit with every swoop and swirl of that talented tongue.

And even though his hips twitch in silent request for more, Spiders swears that he could live in the moment forever.

“Such beautiful sounds, oeyä tawtute.”

The compliment floods his cheeks and tugs at his chest. There is no longer room for self doubt as praises fall freely between the beautiful exploration of Zhali’s mouth. Every concern is hushed before it can fully bloom.

“You taste so good, sevin. Don’t know how I went without you for so long.”

And then warmth encases his member in a rush. Zhali sucks his cock with such enthusiasm and vigor that it becomes difficult to see which partner enjoys themselves more.

But it’s him.

Spider is sure it is him.

He knows that there is no other Na’vi or human out there that feels the things he is feeling, that reaches such heights of ecstasy and passion in one night. He can’t fathom anyone else knowing the warmth, pleasure, and relief that washes over him.

Nose to the boy’s navel, Zhali swirls his tongue around the boy’s base, easily able to take all of Spider within the warm cavern of his mouth. Spider’s hands shoot down and grab the Na’vi’s tied hair without thought. His fingers grip and tug at the neat bun until strands start to fall loose.

“Oh fuck!” He shouts, blunts nails digging into his scalp.

Zhali pulls back until his lips are sealed around only the bulbous tip. The point of his tongue runs over the slit brashly and Spider yanks on his hair. The action is rewarded with a carnal moan, the vibrations rocketing through the boy.

Zhali likes to watch. Spider can feel those eyes trained on him without reprieve, no matter which way he squirms and bucks. At some point he feels strong hands pin his hips to the ground, forcing him to take the pleasure in its entirety.

Spider isn’t used to the attention.

He isn’t used to the way Zhali mentally tracks his reactions and the actions associated with them.

He isn’t used to the honey eyes drinking in the sight of him.

But most of all, he isn’t used to being the center of attention.

It breaks him into a thousand pieces.

His climax crashes so hard into him that his small hands search for something to ground him. They circle around Zhali’s kuru tugging as he spills into the male’s mouth.

The sound that erupts from Zhali is unlike anything Spider has ever heard from him. So far from the polite, organized and formal male that he has known. It rings forth with a raspy texture and a deep serenade that sets his world on fire.

Not a drop is wasted and Zhali doesn’t release his twitching length until Spider is pushing back his head.

He falls limp against the mat, bowl pupils staring up at the world in a daze. He can briefly sense the careful precision Zhali takes to kiss every mark before running a warm cloth over him but it’s background noise to the symphony playing in his head.

“Thank you, sevin.”

That deep voice now with a raspy tint weaves into his consciousness as Spider revels in the tingling aftershock running through his body. He can only manage a lazy smile when Zhali comes up to check on him.

“Just give me….give one minute and then I….I can help.” He manages to get out between pants. Zhali’s brows furrow until he sees the boy eyeing his tented loincloth.

“You have done more than help today, tawtute. Given me more than I could have asked for.” And he grins so sincerely that Spider can’t fathom how the male could feel this way. In every sexual interaction he has had, there was always a return of the favor, that is assuming Spider finished in the first place. But Zhali looks at him like he hung the moon, eyes glimmering in delight as he wipes him down with a warm cloth.

“You…you don’t want me to touch you?”

Zhali traces idle lines over Spider abs happily.

“Of course I do, but how would that serve the proper purpose? I am courting you.” Zhali stands and begins preparing the hammock for them. He arranges extra pillows and blankets that Spider has never seen other Na’vi have before. In fact, there is a great deal of influence from Sky People culture present in the male’s kelku. Things that only a human would find necessary.

Before he can protest, Spider is carried carefully to the hammock and laid across the Na’vi chest. He tucks a blanket around the boy’s hips, making sure it isn’t too tight but still brings the wet tawtute some warmth.

“Although, I admit. This is out of order. It was supposed to be step twelve but do not worry. I will make sure not to skip over any. Fourteen steps to go.” He nods firmly, lips perking upwards.

Spider’s brain sputters, head still fuzzy from the best orgasm of his life. Tonight feels like a dream, an absolute horny amazing romantic dream that his subconscious has whipped up. He can barely process the night’s turn of events, let alone this handsome male wanting to go through an extensive courting process all for him.

“Fourteen? You….but…that is so much.”

Zhali’s hairless brows furrow.

“It’s hardly enough, sevin. It’s important that you have enough proof of my ability to provide, protect, and love before you make your choice. So you can weigh your options.”

As if he has other options.

Who would surpass this?

Who has ever even tried?

Zhali continues to run his fingers through the human’s hair as he sighs happily, watching as Spider shifts closer.

“I do not expect an answer now, sevin. But hopefully tonight is a start to convincing you.”

Rain pelting down on the kelku and wrapped in this amazing man’s arms, Spider’s eyes fill with tears again.

To call it convincing would be an understatement.

Thanks for reading. As always, I truly appreciate hearing your thoughts. It motivates me to write and update more. Love you all<3

Taglist: @tallulah477 @eywaite @itchaboi-itchyboy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang

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rougecreator1 · 9 days

Note

will you write Regina has anxiety

And shifty family as a bonus

Shattered Glass ||

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings: anxiety about weight and appearance, swearing, Ms. George being slightly pushy, mentions of toxic!Cady

|| Summary: Reader watched Regina get ready for school, comforting her when she had to end up wearing jogging pants because nothing else fit.

Requests open!

Started: April 21st

Finished: April 21st

I wrote this in one go 💪

~~~

Everything about her looks had to be perfect. Regina George was supposed to be the embodiment of an angelic figure who walked the Earth. Living amongst mortals. Perfect...

In her eyes, she was glass. Appears solid on the outside, beautiful, perfection. Inside? She was fragile. Like she could shatter at any minute. But she never let any of that show.

Today was no exception.

You were in her room, watching Regina get ready for school as you had stayed the night. You watched with a raised eyebrow as your girlfriend kept throwing clothes out of her closet every so often.

Regina screamed in frustration.

"Why does nothing fit?!" She yelled, your face shifted to concern as you got off the bed and joined her in the closet. Your gaze meeting hers.

You could tell she was panicking, there was a small difference in her eyes that gave it away.

"Baby..." You whispered, taking a step forward and cupping her cheeks with your hands. She leaned into your touch and sighed deeply. Hands resting on your wrists.

"Nothing fits." She whispered, looking into your eyes as one of your hands went down to her waist. Brushing your thumb against it gently as she continued," None of my clothes fit. What the hell am I supposed to wear?"

Her breathing felt quicker than normal. Your eyes widened just slightly when you noticed this. You knew you had to get her to relax first, the clothes could be a later issue.

"Deep breath, focus on me." You whisper back, keeping your voice soft and calm as the hand that was on her waist takes her hand. Holding it close to your chest.

She watched your movement, trying to follow your command. Regina did her best to pace her breathing with yours before looking into your eyes again.

The glass wall of perfection she had worked so hard to keep up had started to shatter. Her mind raced, appearance was everything to her. To the plastics. She shot a nervous glance towards her jogging pants.

It was Thursday.

Regina couldn't wear those.

But what choice did she have?

She knew it would be the only thing that fit her.

Your eyes followed her gaze and you gave her hand a comforting squeeze," G. They're your friends, right? I'm sure they'll understand." You tell her softly. Regina looks back at you, that anxiety lingered in her eyes. Even if she wasn't outwardly showing it.

"You're right. Yeah. Those rules are stupid and made up anyway. They don't actually matter." Regina convinced herself, you nodded in agreement and gave her forehead a soft kiss.

"Want me to leave so you can change?" You asked, Regina raised an eyebrow at that.

Momentarily distracted from her anxiety.

"What?" She replied.

Now you were confused," I just thought maybe-"

"Stay put." Regina cuts you off, not letting you finish your sentence as she makes you sit down on the seat in her closet," It's not anything you haven't fucking seen before."

Okay, she had a fair point.

Your cheeks flushed at her comment as she changed into her outfit. You did as told and stayed put.

Jogging pants and the blue zip up hoodie. She stared at herself in the mirror, you stood and wrapped your arms around her from behind. Arms wrapped comfortably around her waist as you pulled her in close. Thumb gently rubbing her hip in soothing motions.

"Angelic as always, baby." You assure her, kissing her jawline. You feel her relax and that's when you get an idea.

"Can we stop by my house before we go to school?" You asked.

"Yeah, sure. Forget something?" Regina looked back at you.

"Something like that." You nodded, an idea forming in your head.

The two of you hanged out in her room for a bit longer before getting ready to go, wanting to leave earlier than usual so Regina could get to your place with enough time to also go to the school.

As you both walked downstairs, hand in hand. Ms. George walked over and stopped when she saw Regina's clothes.

"Honey, no. It's Thursday." She states with a frown, looking directly at the jogging pants.

You felt Regina tense and gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Get off my back, Mom." Regina muttered, walking past Ms. George.

"Regina-" Before she could say anything else, you and Regina had already left and were getting into her jeep.

The drive to your place was silent, you wanted to comfort Regina but you also didn't want to push her further. You knew she reached her limit for the day already and didn't want to make things worse for her.

When she got to yours, you quickly rushed out and to your room. Doing a quick change of clothes, matching (sort of) with Regina. You wore a pair of black joggers, a white zip up sweater and to top it all off you did your hair up for the second time that week. Breaking two of the "rules" so Regina didn't feel alone.

Once changed and ready, you quickly ran back out to Regina's jeep. She took one look at you and a smile tugged at her lips.

"That's what you wanted to do?" She looks at you, her gaze shifting to the clothes you wore before coming back to your eyes.

You nodded and smiled," They won't kick both of us out, right?"

Regina nodded and relaxed more, you got into the jeep and she gave you a deep kiss to show she was grateful for what you did.

Oh, and they did kick both of you from the table. Fucking Cady.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader

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bunniesanddeer · 2 months

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HI <333

I was wondering if you could write an Alastor X insomnia!reader where like she wakes up in the night and overall just can’t get good sleep? And maybe she wanders around the hotel until she finds Alastor bc he doesn’t sleep often, and he offers to like go to bed with her and they cuddle? If you don’t want to that’s fine :)

Hi! I hope this is what you wanted? I like the way it turned out, even if it is really short.

Insomnia

Pairing: Alastor X Insomniac!Reader

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, insomnia, soft Alastor

Word Count: 966

Sleep has always dazed you. Some nights, it would wrap you up in its arms, embracing you like an old lover, and other nights, it shunned you entirely. Tonight, sleep left you cold and lonely in your bed, your thoughts your only company.

Your room was silent. It was that silence that made you vividly aware of the rushing of your blood in your ears. It made your skin itch. Eventually you got too restless, and sat up in bed. Your nightgown rode up on your thighs, and it drew your attention to your legs. Your claws lightly scratched the skin there, trying to think of a solution to your problem.

You heave a sigh, and decide that grabbing some water might help. (You hated the taste of water, in Hell. It all tasted like slightly dirty tap water. It was awful. But then again, you were in Hell).

The halls are quiet, the soft patter of your footsteps the only sound. You quietly make your way down to the first floor, and you intend on heading to the kitchen, when a light in the sitting room catches your attention.

Alastor is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, reading a book. The lamp closest to him was turned on, casting his face in a warm light. He looked softer, this way. You stood there, watching him for several moments.

Alastor had been an enigma to you since you arrived in Hell. You had gone to the Hotel quite soon after your descent, so you didn’t know much about Overlords and how they worked. You knew that Alastor was one, but he had always been gentle enough with you, so the idea didn't scare you at all. He made you feel things that unsettled you. Your skin itched in his presence, and your heart fluttered. Every inch of you filled with a bizarre joy when he smiled at you. And no, not his normal smile. There were times, when he wasn’t really focusing, that his smile softened at the edges, and his pupils grew wide and locked on you.

There was so much you didn’t understand about Hell, or yourself, but this crush you had on him felt like it was growing out of hand.

Alastor’s thoughts jarred you from your thoughts.

“What are you doing awake, dearest?” His voice was gentle, and his static was a mere murmur. His red eyes were watching you.

You sighed. “I can’t sleep. Feels like I haven’t in a while,” you say, while striding over to him. His eyes flicker over your form, his eyes snapping to meet yours when he notices your attire.

“Ah. I have been in much the same position before. I have come to find that not sleeping at all is the solution!” He laughs a little, but it trails off after a moment. “You do look dreadfully tired, my dear.”

“Ha. Thanks, Al. Just what a gal wants to hear,” you say, gently teasing. You can’t help but feel that exhaustion seep into your bones at his words, though. You are tired, and that feeling has come to you far too often.

His expression softens further, and he looks nearly sympathetic. It makes you feel something akin to discomfort, so you flick your gaze away. The wall looks incredibly interesting.

You hear the soft thud of his book closing, and then the shifting of fabric as he moves. “Come along, dear. Let us get into bed. Perhaps a bedmate will bring you enough ease to sleep.”

Your head whips around and up, so that you can look at him. He has to be joking. “You can’t be serious.”

One of his hands cups your cheek. “Come. You need sleep, and I might as well indulge. It has been some time.”

You wonder at his ease and the situation, and it makes you follow him, wordlessly. One of his hands clasps at yours, his claws carefully gripping, avoiding harm with dexterity. He leads you back to your room, and you are sure he has played some mean trick on you. He, instead, leads you inside, and gestures for you to lie down.

Alastor glances around the room briefly, before snapping his fingers. He’s in pajamas now.

“Ah, that makes me jealous. I wish I could do that,” you whisper. You don’t know why you do, but it feels like it would be weird to speak any louder.

His laugh is soft, and it makes your chest warm. Without any preamble, he lies in bed beside you, and pulls you in against him. You are both lucky the beds in the hotel are so large, because he’s much bigger than you. (Part of you wouldn’t mind, though. It would just require him to curl around you… you need to stop thinking).

Alastor lets one hand settle on your back, and gently rub there. Your head settles against his chest, and you can hear the heavy drumming of his heart. You feel like you’re dreaming. How can any of this possibly be real? Your relationship with him was in such a peculiar place, and you didn’t have any footing. You were so worried he was going to trip you up and let you fall, any minute.

Your heart starts pounding. As always, your overactive mind makes things hard for you.

Alastor’s hand squeezes you down. “Stop thinking, sweetheart. We can talk about this tomorrow. Just sleep.”

So, focusing on the heat he gives off, and the weight of the blanket he pulls around you, you force yourself to relax. Your mind slows, and everything settles.

You fall asleep in the arms of Alastor, who lets his eyes close for more than a moment, for the first time in a long while. And the two of you sleep.

I hope you liked! Remember, my asks are open, it just might take me a little while to get to them. I have two more requests I am working on right now. One of them is similar to my "Touch" works, and another is based on the hallway scene in "Dad Beat Dad".

Have a good weekend, everyone!

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #bun's short fics #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #insomnia

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theblueseassoul · 3 months

Text

“Exauhsted.”

It’s been a long day.

I might make a part two.

Song listened to while writing: “What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine”

Zayne x Reader

Love and deep space fan fiction

Talk of mental health.

No use of Y/n. Gender neutral reader. Read in the second person. Established relationship.

This past week has been hell. And the most annoying part is that you have absolutely no idea why. This happened once in a while, but it hadn’t happened in so long so you thought you’d be able to escape it for a while longer. Instead, here you sat curled up in your work chair, arms around your legs and gazing out of the window nearby once more. At least it had a nice view of the city, you thought, as you watched time pass. You sighed softly, closing your eyes for a moment. Not even a few moments later, you heard someone call out your name. You winced, hoping if you hid your head in your arms they wouldn’t see you, but you knew that isn’t how it worked. They called your name again.

When you looked up, you found Alexander. Alexander was your co-worker, and often took your kindness for granted. You worked hard, everyone knew that, you even took on missions that you weren’t even required to do. You loved your job. This was something you’d dreamed of for… you don’t know how long. So of course you put everything you had into it, you were protecting people by doing your job. It was worth it. However, Alexander made you hate it just for a moment. a brief moment but a moment nonetheless. He grinned, brown hair annoyingly messy as was his uniform. “Are you done with that assignment I asked you to help me with?” He asked, leaning against your desk.

You raised a brow slightly but offered your politest smile. You could have done better on a better day, however this was not one of them, so that was the best he would get. “I did. I saw you had a lot of errors though. You missed a lot of dangerous-“ as you pulled it up to show him what had gone wrong, he waved his hand and cut you off.

“It’s whatever. No one actually reads them.” Alexander’s tone was dismissive, not even glancing at the highlighted sections. You looked at the title of the document and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It was a complete overview of one of the sectors of the city getting more wanderers by the day, and metaflux’s. You knew people read them because you were people. These were given out to hunters for assignments to know what to expect. They were updated frequently and needed to be as accurate as possible for both hunter and civilian safety. You looked back at him.

“Yes, we do.” You stated, losing the patience you had to smile. “It’s actually vital for us hunters and the civilians who might come across these areas. You know that right? That lives depend on these reports?”

He scoffed, mumbling dismissive none sense and waving his hand in the air once more before saying “thanks for finishing it anyways. See you tomorrow yeah?” As he turned his back, you rolled your eyes and put your head face in your hands, mocking him under your breath.

“See you tomorrow! Whatever.” You murmured and once you knew he was out of the room, groaned in annoyance as you leaned back into your chair. “No one reads it anyways.” You mocked again, shaking your head. “Come on. It’s like you forgot the…” you went on into a nonsensical ramble and continued, until you noticed your phone buzzing next to your mouse. You sat up, picking up your phone and reading the caller ID. It read ‘snowy seal.’ It was Zayne, your doctor, and your boyfriend who didn’t call out of the blue often. You raised a brow and picked up, and he spoke almost immediately.

“There you are.” He hummed into the speaker, and as you started to question him, he continued “I texted you when my shift ended. Usually you’re done by now, are you working over time? You know you shouldn’t.” He warned you. You smiled softly. You knew he was lecturing you again, but it made you feel all warm inside knowing he cared so much. He was stern about it, but he was always that way. It was part of his charm.

“No, I was just..” you sighed, blowing a raspberry as you stood up. You turned off your computer with one hand while you held the phone up to your ear with the other “A co worker wanted to speak with me. Did you need something?” You asked, putting your jacket on your fore arm and picking up your back. He paused for a moment, the sound of a car rushing by before he started talking again.

“I’m waiting outside. Hurry, let’s go home.” Zayne said, and you swore you could hear the soft grin through the phone. Once you had everything and said goodbye to everyone, you left, and it only took a few steps before you heard your boyfriend’s cool voice calling your name. You smiled in almost relief, and wrapped your arms around him immediately. He hugged you back, one arm firmly around your waist and the other against your back holding you close to him.

At home, after you’d gotten changed and showered, you decided to do the dishes. They were piling up anyways. So you rolled your sleeves up, and started to empty the dishwasher. Usually, this task came easily to you. Of course you had your moments when motivation wasn’t at its peak, but if you forced yourself to do it, you would find yourself more content by the end of it. It was the same with a lot of house hold chores. You didn’t mind doing them, it was your house, of course you should take care of it. But it was just.. hard sometimes. You felt like a child because of it, how emotional you got over small things. Bouts of depression, Zayne called it. When it was hard to do anything at all. You forced your way through it though, with the help of your trusty doctor.

While you put the dishes away, you had dropped a plastic cup. You clicked your tongue softly in annoyance, “god..” you murmured and picked it up, rolling your eyes at yourself before putting it in its cabinet. Then, after a while, you dropped a spatula after letting go too early. This too made your patience wane. You felt the pricking feeling in the back of your eyes when you got frustrated, and got even more frustrated. You sighed and placed the spatula in its drawer, muttering “stay.” Before closing it. The last straw was when you were putting away pans, when they all fell out of the cabinet because they wouldn’t fit. At this point you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry. The clashing and clanging was more than enough to wince, and you had to step back for a moment and try not to absolutely break down then and there. You flexed your hands, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous to get upset about.” You told yourself. You headed to the fridge for a drink, and on the way.. you ended up ramming your side into the island corner.

Zayne had walked into the kitchen then. Just as you simply gave up, sliding against the island and to the floor, covering your face. He heard you muttering to yourself about something stupid, being annoyed, and such. He knew how you got. You must’ve had a hard day, he thought. Or week. Or month. And so he carefully knelt down beside you, hand on your arm. “Honey.” He called, softly, in a tone he only ever used with you to calm you. Usually you felt special. Right now you were just filled with conflicting emotions you didn’t really know what to do or how to respond.

“Not even something to get upset about. Just dishes.” You groaned to yourself as you pulled your head up from your hands. Zayne carefully pulled you up to your feet, and walked you into your bedroom, rubbing your shoulder the whole time. He listened to your nonesense words, talking about how “I don’t even know why they all fell out.” Or “I’m so clumsy today. What is wrong with me.” Sometimes it wasn’t words, just noises sort of mushed together. He understood anyways.

Zayne sat you down on the bed, and crawled in beside you. He pulled the comforter over the both of you and opened an arm towards you, offering a hug if you wanted it. You leaned into him almost immediately, and his arm wrapped around you tightly, to keep you firmly against his side. He was silent for a while. He usually waited for you to start talking about what bothered you, because he didn’t want you to talk about it if you didn’t feel up to it. You did this time, but you didn’t even know what the issue was. That was what made it so frustrating. He rubbed his thumb against your arm, and asked softly “rough day?”

You sniffed. “I don’t know.” You shook your head, and he nodded slightly, to let you know he was listening. You continued, “I did what I usually do. I fought wanderers. Did reports. Alexander, he handed me an unfinished report and asked if I could do it because he had so much to do and I said yes.”

“The man who never finishes on time?”

“Yeah.” You nodded to Zayne’s question. “So I did. I found some stuff wrong so I corrected them and told him about it and he said..” you rolled your eyes, your lips pulling into a frown “no one ever reads them so why doesn’t it matter.” You threw a hand up slightly. “Like he doesn’t know that it’s actually crucial. Like what it a civilian wandered there and got hurt because we didn’t keep them from it because the report said there wasn’t any danger but there was. Someone could die. It’s our job to protect these people, you know?” You dropped your hand helplessly and shuffled closer to Zayne. “But that isn’t even what made me upset. It was dropping dishes.” You scoffed.

He hummed softly as he listened to you, leaning his head against yours as you curled into him further. When you stopped your ramble, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before he spoke “it sounds like you’re just overwhelmed. It happens, it’s alright.” Zayne said, rocking you back and forth slightly with him. His words were always carefully chosen, you could tell by the slow way he spoke and the pauses between his sentences. It was a nice grounder though. “You’ve been working very hard lately. I’m proud of you, you know.” This was just above a whisper, just for your ears. He rested his chin against your head again.

“You should take a day off.” Zayne suddenly suggested. You looked up at him, puzzled. He glanced at you and chuckled softly and continued to explain “you deserve it. You haven’t taken a day off in.. ages. If you do, I’ll stay here and take care of you. You can come into the office with me as well, if you want.” He said, squeezing your shoulders gently. You debated it, tilting your head into him and looking down at your hands laying in your lap.

“Mm.” You hummed softly in thought. You debated it, wondering if it was a good idea. You have been working hard lately, it wouldn’t hurt to have a day off. Just one. With Zayne, no less. He was usually drowning with work, it would be nice to have a just the two of you day. You nodded “I’d like that.” You finally said, looking up at him.

He smiled softly, a smile he only gave you. Warm, and filled with so much love it made your heart melt every time you saw it. “Good.” He kissed your forehead, and then your nose bridge, the tip of your nose, and then two firm ones against your cheeks, kissing away the trails the tears from before had left. “Let’s get you to bed early then. I’ll make dinner, after you’ll take your medicine, and tomorrow we will have lots of staying home to do.” He said, happily. You nodded, a warm smile spreading over your lips to match his.

#x reader #fan fiction #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #Zayne x reader love and deep space

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