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bettyfrommars · 2 months

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Whole Lotta Love

Eddie x fem!Reader

18+MDNI, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names like baby and sweetheart, both Eddie and reader are over 20.

I received a request for a fic where, no matter how hard he tries, Eddie can't make you cum, and I was happy to do it because it's a much more common situation than how it's represented in most media. I'm not sure this is exactly what they were looking for, but it was a very fun thing to write. This Eddie had me giggling.

a/n: I wasn't sure I would finish this wip after I wrote the first two lines, but then I was in the mood yesterday and smashed it out. It was a very quick write, definitely not my opus, but a true joy, all the same. I hope you like.

wc: 3.1k

Eddie flopped onto his back, huffing out a satisfied breath. “That was so good,” he hummed.

The fingers of one hand drew a lazy circle on his bare chest as it rose and fell, while his other hand scrambled over to capture yours.

Shifting his gaze, he caught you staring at the ceiling, unblinking. “Was that…did you…?”

“Um,” you paused. It wasn’t that you were afraid to be truthful with him, but the fact that orgasms weren’t flying out of you at the same rate made you feel inadequate, like maybe you were the problem.

He propped up on his forearm, searching your face, brow creased with concern. “Did I hurt you or…?”

“No, no,” you rolled over, pulling the sheet up over your hips. “It felt great.”

At that, he gave an actual sigh of relief.

“But, I didn’t cum. Or at least, I don’t think I did.”

“You’re not sure?”

You chewed at your top lip. “No, I am sure. I didn’t.”

He traced a few hearts on your shoulder with the tip of his calloused finger. “Have you ever? With me?”

Your silence spoke volumes, and Eddie’s mind raced to all of the times you’d been intimate in the past few weeks since you’d been together. He blamed himself for being too eager and sloppy, and shit—he was so crazy about you, it made him dizzy. He couldn’t believe you let him touch you, let alone cum inside.

His head snapped up. “But what about that time I went down on you in the closet at Robin’s party? I swear I felt you—”

“I was close that time,” you admitted, remembering how your legs shook and that heat began to build, in the same way it did when you pleasured yourself. “But then Gareth was shouting, looking for you and it went away.”

“Fucking Gareth,” he mumbled. “You were close then, okay. Can I try that again? Now?”

He was already moving down the bed, palming the crook of your knee to slide your leg open.

You put your hand on his head, glancing over at the digital alarm clock. “Not now, silly, I have to get ready for work.”

You wrapped the sheet around you and got to your feet, leaving Eddie to stare into space, alone with his tortured thoughts. “Come over tonight?” He yelled while you were in the bathroom. “Wayne leaves for work at 6, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“I’ll come over,” you said with your mouth around a toothbrush. You spat into the sink and then, “But I might be too tired for…other stuff,” your words were met with nothing but silence from the next room. “We can watch a movie or something?”

Eddie appeared sullen in the doorway next to you in his checkered blue and white boxers. “Do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”

“No, baby I do!” You assured him, eyebrows high on your forehead. You cupped some water into your mouth and spat it out while he ran his knuckle down your arm. “I really really want to, I just don’t want us to force this. It’s okay if I don’t have an orgasm every single time.”

“Yeah but it’s not okay with me,” he muttered.

You turned and planted kisses down his throat, dotting smooches along his collarbone, and then the final peck was on his pouty mouth. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, “I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

—------

You parked on the other side of Eddie's van at the trailer that night and assessed the windows curiously. At a glance, it looked like the living room had caught fire from the amount of candles that were lit. The song Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin poured out into the soft yellow light of the porch, and you knocked.

A few raps of your knuckles were met with a loud curse and something like a metal pot crashed to the floor in the kitchen. No one came to the door, so you entered with caution, and your senses were greeted with the smell of something burning in the oven.

Eddie was by the sink and he spun around with a startled look, wiping his hands down his jeans. He wore a Slayer shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and his feet were bare, letting you see the black toe nail polish you’d delicately painted on a few days earlier.

“What’s with all this?” You blinked a few times, marveling at how tidy it was. But also, there were at least 15 mismatched candles ablaze on the side table, the top of the tv, and the counter.

He wiped his mouth and went over to greet you. “I just wanted to set the mood,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips to pull you close. “I read somewhere that the atmosphere can help with, you know.”

“You read somewhere?”

“Just one of those magazines at the grocery checkout.”

“I missed you,” he smiled against your mouth as you said it. His warm skin smelled spicy and sweet, like he’d recently showered and put on cologne. The yearning you felt for him was all-consuming. A few hours apart weighed on you like an eternity. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and already your loins were giving you the nod like, “yep, we need to have him inside of us.” You absolutely craved him on a sexual level, so why was it so hard to find your climax? It seemed to come easy for everyone else in the world: everybody at the party was cumming but you.

Eddie was nervous. He hadn’t felt that out of his mind since the day he confessed he had feelings for you, but if you didn’t feel the same that would be cool, because he didn’t want to fuck up the friendship: you were too precious to him. Your presence in his life made him feel sane and loved and seen in a way he’d rarely experienced in his life, if ever. A miracle happened that day, and you’d flown into his arms, asking him what took him so long.

But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t please you? In every way?

You watched a sitcom while you ate dinner on TV trays, and when you came back from using the restroom, he had everything put away, dishes thrown in the sink, and he was sitting very propper at the end of the couch, watching you expectantly.

“Are you, um,” he cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

This was weird, he thought. He was making it weird. He needed to loosen up and not be so hyper focused on his mission. Maybe you were tired, maybe you needed to let your spaghetti and burnt french bread settle.

You straddled his lap, brushing hair away so that you could kiss his forehead.

“I think I’m ready to try again,” you whispered, and then you ducked down to nibble his earlobe. “Unless you’d rather stay here and—”

Before you could finish the thought, he was up and the two of you were moving out of the room and down the hall, kissing and fumbling with clothes as you went.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he nipped your jaw and side of your neck, banging the bedroom door open with the side of his fist. “I hate being away from you.”

There were a few candles around the bed too; on his nightstand, and a red one dripped wax from the window sill down the wall.

You stopped abruptly, staring at the bed. “Are those…rose petals?”

“Tulips, actually,” he rushed to the scene and swiped the soft pink curls away with his arm. “That was stupid, I just thought it would be—”

You caught his mouth with yours, tongues lashing at each other in such an erotic way that a small moan escaped him.

He wondered if that night would be the night he came in his jeans.

He wasn’t going to let himself cum before you, that was the plan. He’d jerked off shortly before you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean shit because he was absolutely ready again.

Suck it up, Munson.

All was off but for your underwear and while Eddie licked greedily at one of your nipples, you reached down to undo his button fly. “Release the beast,” you cooed.

He caught your wrist. “Not just yet, I can’t, I mean, I want this to be about you.”

“I need an even playing field if I’m going to be relaxed enough to…you know.”

He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough at the urging of your hand that was quick to breach the waistband of his boxers to stroke him. He was rock hard and the tip was already weeping, needy for you.

“Is this all for me?” You ran your thumb in circles over the tip.

Eddie tensed and huffed out a breath that fanned the hair away from his face. “Fuck, baby, every inch.”

If he wasn’t sharp, he’d cum right there on the spot.

You bounced when your body hit the bed, and Eddie dropped to his knees between your legs. The visible wetness on your panties were taking a toll on his already fragile state. He wasn’t patient enough to take them off of you, he just put his mouth right on the material, nuzzling at your pussy through the fabric in a way that pulled a few sharp gasps out of you.

“I missed her so much,” he pulled back the final barrier with one finger, licking a few times on your swollen lips, and then cursed. “You’re so wet already.”

“Well, that’s what you do to me,” you propped up on your elbows to look down at him, sucking in your bottom lip at the sensation of his breath on you.

He slid your underwear off the rest of the way, trying to recall what he’d read in that Playboy article he read a while back? Something about writing out the alphabet, and the woman you are with won’t make it to “x” without cumming.

“How does this feel?” His tongue rolled along your folds in a way that made you wonder what he was doing. He lost track of the letters at around “M”, hips bucking into the side of the bed, cock pulsing so hard, he had to reach down and take some of the pressure off.

“G-good,” you gasped. “Just like that but then, up a bit higher.”

You weren’t exactly an expert when it came to your own pleasure, either, you only knew what felt good when you touched yourself. If Eddie made you cum, it would be the first time you ever experienced that with another person. You wondered if you should tell him that.

He followed your instructions, swallowing while he consumed you, until he found the tiny pearl treasure at the top and your grip tightened on him.

“Hmm I think I found it. Hey there pretty baby,” he murmured into your cunt rolling his tongue around the spot.

“Yesyesyes, right thereeeee Eddieeee.”

The pressure and the speed was perfect and your hand went to his head for encouragement, but then he slowed down and moved locations, licking up the arousal that dripped down your slit.

“Baby? Could you go back to that thing you were doing a second ago?”

He compiled without a word, trying to find the same pacing again, but the moment was gone.

“Eddie—” you spread your legs wider as an invitation. “I really need you inside of me now.”

Well, he wanted that more than anything. But one pump and it would be all over for his dignity. His eyes were rolling back, seeing cartoon stars just thinking about it.

Truth? He wasn’t going to make it.

You noticed his hesitation. “We can keep trying…after. But I need to feel you. It’s lonely up here.”

“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he crawled up onto the bed, kissing along your stomach, up between your breasts as he went, and then nuzzled at your neck. “My dick can wait until—”

But he choked on his last words when you took hold of him and rubbed the tip of his length along your wetness.

“Sssshittt,” his whole body trembled.

Sliding himself in, becoming one with you, made him emotional in a way he’d be embarrassed to share with anyone else.

“I love you so much,” your voice came out as a cry when he sank halfway in, locking eyes with you. The stretch made you squeeze around him, eliciting a whimper from so far back in his throat that he wondered if it came from somewhere else, some far off place.

Once he started to move, he thought about that sweet little pearl and lifted up enough to put his thumb there and move it around. Your head went back and you exposed your throat to him.

Eddie grimaced at how close he was, fuck that—he had to slow down. The way he was touching you, it was making you stiffen like you had when he was on his knees, and he was taking note of everything.

But then you started telling him how bad you needed him to cum, to fill you up, to make you his. He tried to hold out but then his eyes locked onto yours when you told him you loved him again and he couldn’t stop the wave once it started, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw and his buttcheeks.

One long babble came out of him as his thrusts got sloppy. “Oh fuck I love you so much I’m cumming so hard, I’m…I’m…holy shit I love you.”

He didn’t ask if you had come that time, because he knew better.

After he caught his breath, he pulled you with him, twisting onto his side, slipping two fingers where his cock had been. “What if I push all of this cum back inside so it will stay there? Hmm?”

You moaned against his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “That feels good, keep doing that.”

“You like that?” He asked, just to be certain.

You nodded, and then, your hand slotted down between your bodies and his arousal spiked when he realized you were touching yourself.

He curled his fingers to feel that soft, spongy spot, asking how fast you wanted it.

You couldn’t speak, your concentration was intense, eyes screwed shut.

Oh sure, he was getting hard again. The feel of his warm spend in your tight hole was doing nothing for his resolve.

You clenched around him, and then he was whispering, “let me try again,” as he kept his digits buried and made his way down between your thighs.

His mouth had no trouble finding the treasure that time; it practically peeked up at him, begging for a resolution. He relaxed his shoulders, breathed in the musk of your arousal, and took you into his mouth with a vibrating groan.

“Right there!” You hadn’t meant to scream it, but it was an actual eureka moment. “Oh fuck Eddie, don’t stop…keep doing…keep doing that.”

He hadn’t moved his fingers in a while, but when he tried to incorporate that into the mix, you stopped him. “Keep them still,” you held his head, locking him in place—not that there was anywhere else he wanted to be. “Don’t move your hand just…Ahh yes yes…”

Your jaw went slack in a silent scream, but then his pace quickened, and before you knew what was happening, the blinding white wave crashed through you, rolling through your limbs like satin electricity, making you whine an extended, “cummingcummingcumming,” while you clung to his hair so you wouldn’t fall off the earth.

Eddie was astonished to learn that could feel it happening. The juicy walls around his fingers spasmed, fluttering like tight ripples, and he drove his tongue in eager circles, wondering if he could make you cum twice in one go. Was that even possible? His heart all but flew out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and he moaned long and hard.

But after a bit, you were trying to push his mouth away. “Wait wait, now it’s sensitive,” but he was so determined, he didn’t pull off until you physically lifted his head.

He stared up at you, licking his wet, swollen lips.

You were breathless, letting the final bits of glitter swim through your veins. “That was—”

He kissed your cunt one two three times. “That was what?”

He was grinning now, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, or at least a new car. The sense of satisfaction was officially unmatched.

He made his way up the bed to hold you, but you surprised him by taking his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean, dragging teeth along his flesh.

“I’ve never cum that way with anyone else before,” you said in a whisper, but when he finally registered the weight of the words, his eyes widened.

“My sweetheart,” he pulled you flush against him, giddy, holding your face to brush his lips over yours. “I’m really your first?”

You gave his shoulder a teasing love bite. “And my last.”

“Oh nowww you’re in trouble,” he rolled on top of you, interlacing his fingers with yours to brace your hands above your head, and then he went to work munching at the side of your throat, growling as he did so.

You screamed and giggled, realizing he was hard again as it nudged at your hip. “I see you’re ready for battle again.”

“I was born ready, baby,” he straightened to see your face. “You want to try a new position? I was reading this—”

The front door to the trailer burst open.

“What the hell? Edward? You tryin’ to burn the place down?”

It was Wayne.

Shit shit shit shit it was Wayne!

Home hours early from work, for whatever reason.

The door to the bedroom was wide open and his heavy footfalls were rapidly approaching from the hall.

Eddie threw the sheet up over you, and a few tulip petals fluttered to your face. “I’ll be right there!” He shouted, trying to jump into his jeans. He missed a leg hole and stumbled back onto the mattress, making you snort out a laugh.

He got to the door just in time to greet his Uncle, blocking any view of the room, buttoning his pants as he stood there.

You could hear Wayne’s voice change. “Is, ah, is your girlfriend here? Sorry, I didn’t see her car.”

“No that’s cool, we were just—” and then he maneuvered him out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

You lifted up to listen to their murmuring voices, and then Wayne asked, “why is there wax all over the carpet? Blow these fuckers out before the curtains catch fire.”

You had to bury your face in the pillow to muffle your laughter.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #smut

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izvmimi · 9 months

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katsuki wakes you up from your midday nap with his yelling.

it isn't exactly a rude awakening - you just turn with the sudden ruckus coming from outside your bedroom - but it's enough to cause you the tiniest bit of alarm, even if being together at home is the safest place you can imagine on this earth.

it's saturday evening and he thankfully will not be gone for patrol, so you could afford the extra time to sleep off a worsening migraine. you shift out of your bed, satisfied that a combination of ibuprofen and extra z's have done their work, and make your way out towards the source of the fuss. as you get closer, you're happy to know that it's nothing serious - rather katsuki is simply speaking at loud volume into his phone, presumably irritated, but not devastated by something.

he doesn't hear you coming as light as your footsteps are, and you stand at the doorway to observe him.

"what the FUCK do you mean 'there's nothing you can do'?! i spent hours making these arrangements and you expect me to just accept a gift card like my anniversary is replaceable?!"

you blink, suppressing a yawn still, and watch him. he's agitated and you're pretty sure he's justified, although it probably isn't great for him to yell so much, even if your ears are somewhat attuned to it given your many years together. it's not like when you met him he was exactly the stoic and silent type at all times, although he could be if he wanted to.

but why would you want him to be any different than himself?

you step forward after a few more moments of him hunching over, gritting his teeth as he hears whatever palliating excuses the customer service has on the other end, then press a hand to his shoulder. he stiffens - in fact, he almost pales at your touch and his voice drops nearly to half the number of decibels, a barely audible whisper. reassessing his anger, he nods to you, then to the agent he cannot see, and clears his throat.

"i'll be a little more uh..." he glances at you, and you're smiling at him, but you're giving him the look that pleads him to be nice, and he sighs, "judicious about my willingness to do business with you in the future, but i'll accept a gift card. for now."

with that, the conversation ends. katsuki looks red for a different reason, the gentle sting of embarrassment in his cheeks. you decide not to rub it in, and find a way to settle into his lap.

"what's going on, baby?" you ask. he makes a sound of displeasure, then adjusts your position balanced atop his knee, running a hand through his hair. he then looks at you again, appraising your own emotional state before deciding to change the topic. after all, it's probably best you don't know why he lost his temper.

"did you nap well?" he asks first, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

"not with you hollering," you tease as he lets his teeth graze gently on the skin of your collarbone. he looks up and frowns.

"was it that bad?" his voice is quieter now, lower. you tilt your head.

"you yell all the time. it's fine, i'm used to it. partially deaf at this point."

he frowns again, then mutters a "sorry."

your hand cups his chin. that one word is spoken too softly.

"hey, i'm not made of glass. speak up." you say, squeezing. he smiles, circling his own hand on your wrist before pulling it towards him to kiss the underside.

"sorry, princess!" he says louder, and you giggle, turning your head.

"what? can't hear you?"

he pulls you in and yells directly in your ear, and you scream, and he holds, both of you laughing together. once the two of you calm down, he sighs and leans back into the couch, making sure to take you with him so that you're resting on his chest.

he exhales deep and you wait, knowing he has more to say.

"you know," he starts, tracing circles into your palm, "i had an ex-" you bristle for a moment, and he grins at you, then kisses your forehead, "that thought i was too loud."

"loud, yes. too loud? i'm not sure," you reply.

he shrugs. "she would bristle any time she heard me talking. i would never yell at her, but i guess i scared her in some way just by the tone of my voice."

"mm." part of you wonder what they expected; he's always lived boisterously, with no pretense otherwise, but you keep mum.

"so i felt like i couldn't really be myself around them. obviously not the way i can be with you."

katsuki looks away from you for a moment and in space as though he is thinking, and then soon time is up, and his focus shifts back to you, giving you a cheeky grin.

"thanks for putting up with me," he says. again his voice is soft and quiet, because he addresses you with care, not because you've demanded him to adjust for you, but because he wants to.

you peck his nose. "well, when i go deaf in both ears, i'll reconsider."

he rolls his eyes playfully, and you pull his ear and yell, "i love you!"

he threatens to throw you off of him again, and you playfight until you're both rested on the couch, content in each other's arms.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: bakugou #mimi's notes

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orionremastered · 4 months

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Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

You knew what curare was. The plant, originating from South America, was a plant drug that was used in the first forms of anesthesia before being replaced by newer agents. That left curare no longer as something useful, but as a deadly poison.

Curare relaxes the muscles until, eventually, the victim's diaphragmatic muscles no longer have the strength, causing the body to die of asphyxia.

It is in times like this, when you gaze over the hospital bed of your soulmate, that you wished you didn't know these things. You wished you didn't know how long it took for it to kill a human- twenty minutes at most- but your knowledge was useful. It was useful in the way that you knew the poison wasn't eaten or consumed.

That wasn't how curare worked.

The nurses found a pinprick from a needle in Damian's hand, indicating that was where the dosage was given to him.

In front of you suddenly, Bruce clears his throat. He passes you a coffee and you gratefully take it, drinking it practically in one go. “He must've felt the needle.”

Bruce sat back on the chair beside you, sighing into his cup. It was one of those paper cups and the billionaire looked comical drinking from it. “There are things that you one day will learn about my son,” he says in a low, deep voice, “But that day has yet to come.”

He offers no room for further explanation, and part of you doesn't want to know. Not with the way he said it.

With an understanding nod, your gaze drifts to the TV directly across from the bed. A news channel is playing, but the volume's all the way down. The news reporter- a lady with blonde hair in a fur coat as she stands outside the GCPD headquarters- finishes talking and smiles.

You read the headline and immediately point it out for Bruce.

VIGILANTES DETAIN SUSPECT OF WAYNE POISONING.

The suspect in question is heavily beat up, setting off alarms in your head you didn't know existed. You recognised him from the meeting in the Wayne Tower; one of the businessmen from another city.

Beside you, Bruce smiles. But only slightly; you have to triple check to make sure it's really there.

"Did they get him, father?"

The low voice startles you and your head immediately whips around to see your soulmate's eyes opened, watching his father until his gaze slowly turns to you.

"Hi," you say quietly, fidgeting with a pen you found in your pocket.

Damian slowly looks to his forearm where the words he and his family- both the Al Ghuls and the Waynes- dreaded. Instead of being written in black, they were now written in your favourite colour. The word on your forearm was now written in emerald green.

"How are you feeling?" you ask after clearing your throat.

There’s a moment of pause as he eyes you warily. A tired figure who’s worked too hard and for too long; someone who’s seen horrors and met lunatics all for a shitty paycheck. You don’t even know why you do your job; it’s something you always wanted to do, and it’s fulfilling, but sometimes those reasons didn’t feel like enough. “Better,” he finally decides.

Better. You could settle for better.

“I’d better get going, then. I’ve had a long day, so, uhm,” you scribble your phone number and name down on a piece of paper, placing it on the bedside table. “Here. Call whenever you want to talk.”

There’s no universe where Damian’s eyes widen a fraction when he realises you’re not staying, but perhaps in this one, he did. Giving a nod to Bruce, you head out the door, walking purposefully to the entrance.

The truth was; you’re not ready for publicity. Being a paramedic means focus on the job and having paparazzi following you around at work was far from what you wanted. You were busy. Galas you would skip from being too tired or your back hurting from lifting patients or simply not being able to take the day off due to lack of staff. You’d become a target for criminals across the city rather than a face they sought for help.

You had been the one to give him your number for whenever he was ready to talk, but maybe it should’ve been the other way around.

Harper slammed the passenger door to the ambulance shut, signalling the start of a busy night shift. It was the first shift you’d had together since you discovered the identity of your soulmate and you were grateful for a distraction.

You partner whistled awkwardly, casting nervous glances your way as you pull out of the station.

“Did you talk?”

“Briefly.”

“Exchange numbers?”

“Yes.”

“Did you… talk over text?”

“No,” you sigh, driving to the nearest coffee shop despite you knowing you wouldn’t make it before getting a call. “Maybe it’s a good thing. I mean, I don’t really want the publicity, you know?”

Harper nodded slowly. “Is he doing better?”

“Yeah, he got discharged an hour after I left. Checked the hospital staff portal.”

The computer beside Harper beeps, shifting your attention to it. “Elderly male complaining of chest pains, history of cardiac issues.”

“Nothing like a heart attack to change the subject,” you mutter, putting the topic of your soulmate in the back of your mind. Lingering, but never gone.

Half an hour until your shift ended. That was the only thing you could think about as the grey clouds hanging constantly over Gotham brightened with the rising sun. Your shift had been long, eventful and it was safe to say the pizza you managed to find open at this hour was the best thing you'd ever tasted.

"Do you think-"

Harper gets cut off by the sound of a message reaching your phone. He raises an eyebrow, smile growing as you roll your eyes and pull it out of your pocket. Truth is, you still weren't ready to register or make the decision on whether or not you wanted to be with someone like a Wayne.

Sorry for not texting you sooner. We should talk.

You change the new number's name to 'Soulmate' and fiddle with your phone case, trying to come up with a reply. Harper casts glances at the screen every few seconds, trying to act normal.

I can't have the publicity.

Your gut sours as you wait for a reply, but you can't seem to rip your eyes away.

I understand.

That is why we should talk.

"Maybe you should talk," Harper says. "It'll be worth it, I'm sure."

You know it will- you want to be with him, you want to have a future together and you want that yearning in your chest to be filled with satisfaction that maybe, just maybe, you can finally do life right.

But part of you- perhaps the rational part of you- believes that could never happen. You'd have to choose between your soulmate and your job. Helping the city, being anonymous, meeting new people and laughing with your colleagues- your best friends- doing what you love...

You turn off your phone without replying.

A/N: Requests are open for batfam if anyone has ideas (bc I heavily lack those rn)

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #batfamily #batfam #x reader #batfamily x reader

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phantomspiderr · 10 months

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Always

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: fluff, fluff, fluff, look i think Marc would be into Formula 1, is that just because I love F1... maybe?, sleepy!reader, soft!Marc🥰

a/n: 😬… I’m backkkkkkkk. Not that I think anyone noticed I was gone but I started anxiety meds and they've taken some getting used to. But I opened up my drafts the other day and found this and finished it, so essentially I started making it, had a breakdown... bon appetite?

(not my gif)

The other side of the bed’s cold, your hand swipes across the empty space in search of the warmth that is normally there. Your sleep-addled mind pauses to think—had your boyfriend even come to bed? What time was it? Is that noise in your head? Slowly, you pull yourself up from the warm cocoon of the duvet and your hands rub at your face in an attempt to erase the sleep that still clings to you. Blinking a few times you try to adjust your eyes to being open again as your hands fall into your lap. You can just make out some light in between the gaps in the bookshelf that separates the bed from the rest of the room. Your tired eyes look to his side of the bed again, still empty and the alarm clock shines the time a little too brightly, 6:22am. Reluctantly you move your stiff legs, pushing the warm duvet off of them and whining a little as the cold air in the flat hits them. You pull yourself out of the bed, immediately grabbing the blanket from the end of the mattress to wrap around yourself. The noise you’d heard becomes clearer now, it sounds like someone talking but it’s fast and all mushes together in your head. You take steps toward it, rounding the bookshelf to find exactly what you were missing.

“Hey,” Marc’s voice comes out in a whisper and he sits up the second his eyes clock you, his hand reaching for the tv remote immediately. The volume goes down with each push of the button, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You keep taking slow steps towards him, passing in front of the tv and going around the coffee table until you reach the couch.

“Are you okay?” You completely disregard his question in favour of asking your own as you sit next to him, he nods whispering out a yeah and so you move your body to lay down, placing your head in his lap.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” you look up at him as he speaks. One of his hands comes to rest on top of your head, “plus there’s a race on.” He looks back to the tv and you follow his gaze, twisting until you lie completely on your side.

“What’s a red flag?” Your head turns so you can look at him again briefly, a little smile graces his face and then you go back to staring at the screen, trying to understand why in the middle of a race none of the cars are moving.

“One of the drivers went into the barrier and they have to stop the race to clean it up before they continue. It just means it’s not safe for anyone to be on the track,” Marc explains it so gently, no annoyance or condescension crosses his tone for your lack of knowing.

“Are they okay?” There’s a slight hint of worry and you almost sound like a scared child.

“Yeah sweetheart, look, that's Albon there.” He points towards the screen and you watch as it briefly shows a young-looking guy speaking with someone else, “it was his car that hit the barrier but he got out of it straight away.”

For a minute it’s quiet, you both just watch the screen as it shows different people. Marc had turned the volume up a bit and you could make out what the commentators were saying now they’d slowed down their talking. Without any prompting, Marc starts to quietly tell you who everyone is every time the picture changes to someone new. He shares little pieces of knowledge with every name and you find listening to him soothing. You knew he sometimes watched these races but you’d never really taken the time to sit down and watch one with him. You’re starting to regret never doing it before, you’d been missing out on this beautiful opportunity to get to know his interests better.

Ultimately, though that tiredness still clings to your mind and the way his voice is quietly lulling you makes you think of the times when Steven reads you to sleep. Just as the race starts up again, your eyes begin to feel heavy, the blinks start getting slower and longer. You’re unsure if Marc’s noticed because he keeps calmly explaining what’s happening as it happens. His fingers had absentmindedly started rubbing circles into your scalp which was not helping the way you were quickly slipping back into your sleeping state. The tv eventually disappears, and your eyes are finally sealed shut again but some conscious part of your brain can still make out the race commentary in the background alongside Marc’s soothing voice.

The next thing you know it’s daylight, the sun shines brightly through the uncovered windows. It hurts your eyes when they open and instinctively you turn your body away from it, glad when you’re met with darkness. You comfortably bury your face into the warmth of Marc’s stomach while trying your best to stretch your stiff limbs without really putting much effort into it. You take in a deep breath before just relaxing for a moment. Your mind slowly wakes as you lay there, coherent thoughts begin to form and you start to feel more awake with each passing second. You could’ve sworn you’d only been asleep for a few minutes. The tv is still making quiet noise in the background and you can feel Marc taking slow deep breaths.

Once your brain has managed to come back to some semblance of consciousness, you slowly pull yourself to sit up on the couch. The sight you’re met with makes your heart melt it doesn’t matter how many times you wake up next to him, each time feels like the first. He looks so peaceful, his head propped on his fist that leans on the arm of the couch. Eyes closed, hair sticking around every which way and lips slightly parted. You admire him for a minute before you think about how much his neck is going to hurt after sleeping in this position. As slowly as you can you twist yourself around again and stand, taking a second for your brain to catch up with your body’s movements. Then gently you tuck your hands under his knees, pulling on the deadweight and turning them to rest on the couch. All the movement rouses Marc from his sleep, the top half of his body reluctantly following the bottom with a grumble.

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Quietly you shush him as he continues to wiggle around until he’s settled down on the couch where you were just laying. The crease in his eyebrow slowly relaxes as your fingers comb through his hair, you’re crouched next to him trying to push him back into his little slumber. A long sigh comes from deep within his chest and you just know he’s back in dreamland. With a gentle kiss to his temple, you stand again, grabbing the blanket that had fallen to the floor at some point and draping it over his body. Satisfied with how much more comfortable he looks now you go to pull yourself away to shower and maybe start on breakfast—or maybe brunch at this point, but a hand grazes your leg.

“Stay,” the mumble of a plea falls past his lips as his hand blindly searches for yours. Without a second thought, you give in, encouraging him to lift his head so you can slip back onto the couch. Thoughts of how good a shower would be right now or of what to cook to rid the rumble in your stomach disappear completely. Now you sit with Marc’s head in your lap, mirroring the exact position you’d both been in just moments prior. You take a long moment to just watch him, the way he nuzzles his head into your thighs and how relaxed he looks for a change. Then you’re thinking about how happy he makes you. How lucky you feel to be a part of this moment and how you only ever want to be right here with him, always.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fluff #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector fic #marc spector #moon knight x you #moon knight fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #moonknight #moon knight system

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jinkookspencil · 5 months

Text

a way to wake | ksj

you're fast asleep and seokjin has to wake you up... an old method he used on his friend eventually comes to mind

description/tags/note: seokijn drabble / fluff + suggestive / established relationship / i had this idea in my head for a while, ever since i found out how jin used to wake up jungkook when they were younger... and i ended up writing the whole thing while stuck in traffic on a random afternoon / i am actively working on til you make it 2 whenever i have the time! i'm glad i took my time with it, i improved it in all this time and am still thinking of ways to improve it little by little / also, i often get ideas or scenarios in my head that could be mini pieces, not even a drabble - some are barely even 500 words. would you guys be interested in stuff like that? lmk!! / anyways, enjoy!! / edit: i edited this fic to make it even more suggestive. they both hint at yn wanting jin to wake her up by touching her.

wc: ~1.3k words

Seokjin didn’t have it in him. You were sleeping so peacefully beside him, as you had through all seven of your alarms, likely finally getting in a good rest after many sleepless nights… and he had to disturb it?

He knew he didn’t really have a choice - you were already running late. It wasn’t going to be a problem for Seokjin really, after you both showered, it’d only take him a couple more minutes at most to change into his suit. You, on the other hand, always needed some extra time to get ready, and that ‘extra’ time was getting shorter and shorter the more he let you sleep.

You’d want him to wake you up, he knew that for certain, as well as the fact that you would probably scold him as well as yourself for your sleeping in. That reminder is what finally got him to nudge and rub your shoulder.

“Jagiya?”

He repeats the action numerous times, raising the volume of his voice every time, but still, you slept.

“Honey,” he calls with a laugh, tickling your side, belly, and thigh. Your elbow twitches once, but never again despite him repeating the action over and over again. “We need to leave soon. You need to wake up now, darling.”

Nothing.

He gets up to pull open a bit of the curtains, letting sunlight stream in and disrupt the darkness of your bedroom.

Still, nothing.

Frustrated now, Seokjin pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo of you sleeping - just for himself - before opening up the music app. He plays clips of several songs, and all you do is wince, sleeping through them as you did your alarms.

“Are you faking it?” he asks aloud to your sleeping body. “Jagi… if you’re faking sleep, I swear I won’t eat you out tonight. I’m serious.”

Nothing.

That definitely would’ve done it if you were faking sleep. Really, you had no reason to fake it - you'd panic at the mere thought of running late - but Seokjin couldn’t eliminate the possibility entirely. You could be a bit of a brat at times.

He half considers physically pulling you out of bed, throwing a plushie at you, or emptying a water bottle on you, until he remembers a failsafe. A way that couldn’t hurt you like manhandling could, nor anger you with wet pajamas and sheets.

Jungkook’s way.

Seokjin giggles to himself at the thought. He had never tried it on any of his exes in the past, just Jungkook, really. It wasn't uncommon for boys to do such a thing at that age, especially when they were playfully roughhousing, which, with Jungkook, happened every day and at any time of day. Seokjin always had the edge by starting off Jungkook's days just like that - it always did the trick... And considering the other similarities you shared with Seokjin's younger friend, it wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.

Slowly, he turns you until you’re lying entirely on your back against the mattress, facing the ceiling with shut eyes. He moves from his position next to you until he’s over you, straddling your body with a knee planted on either side of your hips. He never took on this position with Jungkook of course, and almost started regretting it already - you felt too good.

“Jagi,” he whispers, pulling away the blanket from your body and letting his hand graze the skin at your collarbone and your stomach by the hem of your pajama top. He kisses your neck once, calling your name. It was the final chance he'd give you before he’d pull the trigger.

And you didn’t budge.

He sighs in defeat, not holding back his smile any longer when he sees your hardened nipples peak through the thin fabric of your top. Ready. Just for him.

With his index finger and thumb on both hands, Seokjin pinches and fiddles with your raised buds for mere seconds before you shoot up, finally awake.

“Wh?! W..what the fuck?! Jin!” you yell, wriggling underneath your fiancé’s body as he laughs, tumbling over you.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he says between his giggles, stopping only when you lazily reach towards his chest. “YA! I only did that to wake you up. You slept through your alarms, bub. We’re running late.”

“WHAT?!” you yell, pushing him off of you and hurriedly searching for your phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?

“I TRIED!” he protests, getting off the bed. “You slept like a rock. Who knew squeezing your nipples would finally do it? It’s what I used to do to Jungkook when we shared a dorm. Though, of course, I used to twist his nipples to the point where he was certain I detached them from his body somehow. I tried handling you with care, princess.”

“Couldn’t you have used your fingers somewhere else, Seokjin? A bit lower perhaps? You know, something Jungkook doesn’t have? Something you could only possibly do with your girlfriend?”

Seokjin stares at you. Despite the fact that you’d looked delectable asleep and under him already, the thought never occurred to him. Of course the thought wouldn’t occur to him. This wasn’t a conversation you had had together and he hadn’t gotten your consent or any hint that it’d be something you would want. Unless of course, he had been the reason you refused to wake up… Seokjin’s mind wanders with a desperate need within him to have the conversation then and there, knowingly unprepared if you’d admitted to it all. Wanting to be woken up that way. A dream, perhaps. They might have just forget the event altogether…

He begins following you around the room with pleas for a moment to talk, but you don’t turn back for a second until it is to do the exact opposite of handling him with care - dragging and pushing him into the bathroom.

Seokjin watches as you undress, doing the same and half hoping for a quickie, considering your eagerness. He almost felt his length begin to harden, but soon you’re pushing him once more, into the tepid shower with a loofah in hand. He tries to put his thought away for now, caring for your body in another way he felt so privileged to do. To maximize efficiency, you wash yourselves and one another before going about your routines at double the pace. Seokjin’s entirely dressed in minutes, save for his suit jacket, while you were still getting ready, wearing a lingerie set underneath a robe. Extra time for you, and extra time for him to admire you.

“Help me with my dress,” you command him, stepping into a dress he promptly zips up, but not before he drinks up the sight of you in brown silk and lace underneath. Stood behind you, he watches as you adorn yourself with jewelry but can’t stop his hand from snaking over your waist, softly cupping your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You don’t react save for a sharp inhale, continuing to adorn your look. You’re so stunning it almost brings him to his knees. He’d happily allow his body to get there, too, kneeling to tease you at the very least and at most, sneaking his head underneath your dress and pulling down your underwear - just for a taste. But instead, he nudges his head in the crook of your neck - softly kissing along the chain of your necklace. “Tell me, honey… were you dreaming of me? Is that why you didn’t want to wake up?”

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting Seokjin’s hand on your waist, his fake arrogance replaced with a wide smile in seconds. “We need to leave.”

“I made a promise,” Seokjin says, wearing his jacket. “While you were asleep. I made a promise.”

“Oh?” you question, spraying perfume on the two of you. The final touch.

“I said that if you were faking sleeping through your alarms, I wouldn’t eat you out tonight.”

The promise makes you stop in your tracks towards the front door, Seokjin getting there first with an intrigued expression on his face when he looks back. “Since you weren’t faking it, that means I have to do it. And since you slept through the many different ways I tried waking you up… I guess it seems I gotta get you to do something else.... gotta get you somewhere.... many different ways tonight…. Oh, and of course, you won't be faking it this time around as well.”

He’s unsure if the redness in your cheeks is heat flooding your system or makeup he simply hadn’t noticed a minute prior. As you make your way towards your fiancee, you see smugness only slightly present on his face, overshadowed by sincerity - that of a genuine promise. Your hands fiddle with Seokjin’s tie before resting on his chest.

“I didn’t realize dreams could manifest into reality that quickly.”

“I knew it,” Seokjin smiles, kissing your hand as his ears go red. The idea of you actually having a wet dream about him this long into your relationship… the fact that you’d dream of him and his body pleasuring yours, after only hours apart in sleep… it sent him into a frenzy.

“I mean, I know I’ll hear it tonight, but I kind of wish you’d been moaning my name in your sleep…”

“Well, you didn’t see my pajama shorts, did you?,” you whisper, flicking Seokjin’s nipple over his shirt. He winces but is quick to disregard the pain - his face flushed, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach for your waist, thigh, or ass - you push him away.

“It was a very vivid dream, honey. Don’t you worry… I’ll tell you all the many different ways I want it. The ways you did it… And tomorrow, wake me up like it never ended.”

There it was.

“Can we stay in? We’re late already,” Seokjin whines. “We can get a head start. Morning to morning…” He feeling his knees buckling at the thought, slowly trying to pull you closer to him in persuasion. You don’t budge and open the door instead.

“You know we can’t…. Now’s your time to dream of me.”

The hunger within him only grew, already fantasising of the of the night to come. Now, he was in competition with himself and he’d make sure your reality is far better than anything you could dream of.

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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months

Text

MORDOR (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: you take a chance, and decide to call mordor.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of life struggles (reader's turn to go through it), references to previous addition in this series so might be a little harder than normal to read as stand alone! this is really just me projecting on my need for eddie munson to comfort me

wc: 4.8k+

the full menu

You’re late. So, so fucking late.

It panics Eddie. He sat in his car for that extra hour just waiting for your ridiculously bright yellow Jeep to pull in beside him, and when you still hadn’t by the time Nicole arrived, his chest twisted. When Nicole gets out of her car, and you’re still not there, his stomach churns.

Where are you? Are you okay?

You hadn’t texted Nicole. You don’t call the store as the two of them flit about and try to manage opening without you. And when the time arrives to unlock the doors for the customers, Nicole finally excused herself to try and call you herself.

Eddie scorns himself for not having your number. How stupid is it that you two have made a pact to be friends, and yet here he is weeks later, still not having your number.

“Any luck?” he asks, trying to level his tone when Nicole returns and he’s turning on the ovens.

“Nope,” her brows furrowed as she quickly scoots behind him, heading towards the front register, “It went straight to voicemail. Which, I mean… she’s never been late. Not like this.”

“Should we be worried?”

It’s a stupid question. He’s already worried. He’s frazzled enough to say fuck it, toss down his apron, and send out a search party for you rather than worrying about the store.

“Maybe,” Nicole shrugs, as if this doesn’t concern her as much as it does Eddie. As if there’s not sirens going off in her head as well. As if your sudden lack of punctuality is something to just shrug off.

As if your absence doesn’t rattle her the way it rattles Eddie.

An hour passes by. Eddie gets more restless. Constantly looking to the store’s front door, incessantly checking outside the drive thru window for any sign of you or that damn Jeep. Every time the phone rings, Eddie has to curl his hands into fists to let Nicole answer rather than him. Each time, when he looks at her, the subtle shake of her head tells him it’s not you. His tongue nearly bleeds from how he chews on it with his molars to stop from asking her if she had tried to reach you again. He knows she has, notices how she spends extra time in the back, no doubt sending texts and useless calls alike your way.

If it were any other coworker, both Eddie and Nicole would be fuming. Concern would be replaced with irritation

He’s actually reaching to untie his apron and informing her that he’ll start trying to reach you instead when you finally come bursting into the store, a full two hours late to your shift.

“Fuck,” you whisper-exclaim as you power walk through the lobby, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“You’re here!” he doesn’t bother keeping down his volume at the sight of you, flooded with immediate relief.

You’re okay.

“I’m so sorry,” the apologies immediately begin to pour from your lips as you nearly trip rounding the corner into the back room, Eddie hot on your trail, “I’m so, so sorry! Shit, I- I just slept through my alarm, and had a late night, and-“

You’re digging your apron out of your bag when he finally reaches out to softly grab your arm, squeezing gently in an offer of comfort as you finally pause.

“It’s fine,” he promises, “Everyone is late every once and a while.”

Nicole was in the bathroom, but he’s sure that she’d say the same thing. The entire morning, both her and Eddie had been more worried than anything. Not mad, not irritated, but worried.

And yet, you’re still on the verge of tears as you look up at Eddie, “It’s not fine. You had to open the store all on your own, and I know that’s stressful, and I saw all the missed calls but my phone was on silent. I mean, my shift’s already half over at this point. And I just-“

You cut off your rambling with a shaky breath. It breaks his heart to see you so upset, so guilt-ridden over something that happens to the best of you all.

“It’s okay,” he stresses once more, another squeeze on your arm, “You had a late night? Is everything okay?”

You open your mouth to answer him, the no already forming on your lips, when Nicole returns from the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh, there you are!” she exclaims.

And just like that, Eddie’s chance to be there for you as you were for him has vanished into thin air.

—

Your shift may have lasted several hours less than it was meant to, but you’re convinced it’s the absolute worst hours of your life. Which is saying a lot given how your life has gone to shit the last two days.

You were already falling behind on classes, and your bank account was in the negative due to tuition payments. Your mother was calling every day to spend hours on the phone under the guise of catching you up at what you were missing at home, when in all reality it was just her complaining without taking a breath or allowing you to say a single word. You had to take your cat to the emergency vet when he wasn’t eating, only to find out he probably just didn’t like his current food anymore after a series of very expensive tests. Thing after thing, punch after punch, was being thrown your way. It was all just a bit much.

And then you were late to work. Slept in after forgetting to set an alarm after a late night of staying up and listening to a friend rant over the phone. Burnt your hand not once but twice on the ovens. Spilt an entire cup of hot coffee on yourself.

Life was out to get you.

And the only good thing about today was Eddie.

When the clock finally signals for the two of you to step off the floor, you’re sighing out in relief. You have no idea what the next issue will be waiting for you off the clock, but you’ve accepted that the day couldn’t get worse. And yet, as you go to grab your bag, wrapping your apron by muscle memory as you watch him, your stomach churns at the thought of today’s time being cut so short today. You just like being around him. You like making inside jokes, sharing quick glances, making one another laugh until your stomachs ache over stupid things in the midst of chaos. He’s a guiding light, something to look forward to, a wonderful break from reality that you just… you just cherish.

As you’re tearing up suddenly at the realization along with the heavy weight of your week, you recall that conversation last week. The word you two had assigned for when you needed a break.

Technically, it was probably a joke. Or to be used to ditch work. He probably hadn’t meant it.

But you have to try.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” you ask nervously, fiddling with the straps of your bag as he’s patting his pockets for all his items.

“Yeah?” he doesn’t look up yet, doesn’t see the forlorn look across your face.

Just say it. If he doesn’t get it – no harm, no foul. If he gets it, and rejects the motion – oh well. The worst he can say is no.

You have to swallow hard, take a sharp breath, before you can get the single word out. “Mordor.”

He freezes mid-pat, hands hovering over his front pockets as he slowly looks up.

“What did you say?”

“Mordor,” you repeat yourself, with a little more confidence to your tone this time. The worst he can say is no.

For a second, you become convinced he’s forgotten all about that conversation in the parking lot. You really don’t blame him; half the time, you guys discuss anything and everything with minimal importance. Those early and surreal mornings are always more about spending time with one another, with a friend, than it is about actually processing the things said.

But then, two things happen. Firstly, the wrinkles between his brows smooth out. A second passes. And then – they return.

Sloping ridges and mountains in that small space, each and every bit of them etched with worry. For you. The corners of his mouth deeply downturn and all the white noise of the front of house fades away the longer he looks at you with such care.

“Mordor?” he echoes, “Like, as in… as in our code word?”

You feel as if the moment you speak up, all that strength you had mustered throughout the shift will shatter. You’re tired and you’re beaten, you’re desperate and you’re hoping. You don’t even care if he tells you he doesn’t have time to properly sit and unwind with you right now – you’d settle for just a hug. The same arms that bump against yours and that sometimes stretch along your space to grab things from around you, the same arms you’ve seen strain as he insists on carrying heavy kegs for you, the same arms you just want to wrap around you, if even for a second, and squeeze.

Who knows? Maybe, if he squeezes tight enough, he can put all the broken shards of the week back into place. It’s not his job to fix it, but you’re convinced for a moment, he’s the key to everything just feeling okay for nothing more than a mere second.

You nod. If you answer him with words, you’re going to cry. The tears are already eagerly burning your corneas.

He says your name softly, gentle enough that you have to pinch your eyes shut and take a shaky breath to avoid any spillage of your emotions.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you try to make it a laugh, as if this is a joke, “I, uh- not really?”

“Is it because you were late today?”

Your voice cracks and your eyes squeeze shut tighter for a second as you answer with a weak, “Kind of.”

You let your eyes snap open again, try and seek out some everpresent warmth in his honey brown ones as your vision blurs a bit with shameful tears.

You’ve never realized just how many shades resided in those irises, all warm and cool browns alike swirling. They almost match the espresso, you come to realize. And it’s funny, to think about the way all your other coworkers whisper just as scary and grumpy he is the moment he’s out of earshot. It’s funny how customers seem to crumple timidly beneath his disassociating gaze when he finds himself lost in thought on bar or warming. Every single other person who has stepped foot in this store seems to have one impression of Eddie, and it’s not even a proper shadow of the man before you.

All soft edges. All care and all warmth. He’s not scary, he’s not grumpy; he’s careful and considerate, a little shy at times, a little hesitant at others. And you can only imagine why he’s that way, when you can see someone entirely different reflected in those goddamn honeyed eyes in this moment.

He takes a step forward. Opens his mouth to speak. Goes as far to even begin to reach out a hand. And then he’s interrupted.

“Thank you for your patience,” Nicole chirps into her headset as she comes into the back room, turning a corner with determination and snatching a sleeve of cups off the shelves as she continues to speak over the drive thru channel with ease, “Can we get you started with anything to eat today?”

His mouth closes and his hand drops as you both glance down at the floor, completely silent as you wait for her to finally retreat back out onto the floor without a second glance at the two of you.

The tears still burn and blur your vision.

“Okay,” Eddie says the moment the two of you are alone in the back once more, “Okay. Mordor it is. Come with me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. It rolls off his tongue and it wraps around you before he reaches out and grabs at your hand, only connecting palms and avoiding intertwining fingers before he’s tugging you out the back door.

Not even through the front. As if he wants to save you the embarrassment of a walk of shame with teary eyes and defeated shoulders.

“We can’t-” you start to protest, but he’s already wrangled the key that is left in the back door – impressively quickly, as even you struggle with that fickle lock at times – before he shoves the door open wordlessly and yanks you out with him wordlessly.

The door doesn’t even slam shut. It feels like a dramatic moment where it should, but it only closes back with a whisper and soft whoosh of air.

“They have to do a trash run anyways,” he reassures you when you look back at the unlocked door with worry, referring to the overflowing trash that would soon be taken out to the dumpster in the distance, “It’s fine.”

The soil crunches beneath both of your sneakers as he makes a beeline to his van. No questions are asked, just as you two had joked about.

The sun is still favoring the Eastern sky despite growing warmer in the late morning. Eddie’s van is stuffy when he initially unlocks it for both of you to jump into the front, him being sure to open the passenger door for you and only shutting it closed once you’ve securely settled into that seat you’ve spent countless early hours in.

He starts up the vehicle once he’s in his driver’s seat, but makes no move to drive off as he stares at you.

“What?” you whisper, voice still strained as you toss your bag down by your feet.

All he says in return, still gentle and still warm, still glowing brighter than the man everyone seems to think he is, is a reminder of, “Seatbelt.”

You obey that half-spoken command. You don’t ask where you two are going once he shifts into drive the moment the click sounds in the small space.

—

Eddie drives for a while. He gets onto the freeway in the opposite direction of your way home, and you probably should be worried, but you aren’t. You have no mental capacity for consideration of how you’ll get back to your car, whether your coworkers will worry about it remaining in the parking lot, or whether Eddie even knows where he’s going. Hell, even his slightly erratic driving doesn’t affect you.

You just stare at the trees as they pass by in a blur. Your mind numbs, smells of a rainstorm in the distance slips into the cabin of the vehicle through the cracks in the back windows, and you just let go.

If your mother knew what you had done today, you would have absolutely been reamed a new one.

Eddie slows at an unfamiliar exit, just after the two of you pass a small green sign that reads NOW ENTERING HAWKINS CITY LIMITS.

“Hawkins?” you murmur your first noise of the entire drive.

“You ever been?” Eddie asks as if you hadn’t been catatonic the entire way here.

You prop an elbow up on the door, fist digging into the side of your face as you lean and take in the scenery now passing by a bit slower, “Can’t say I have.”

“Well, then,” he keeps talking, and it’s sort of comforting after the long silence, “Consider yourself lucky.”

That gets a snort out of you. One that has his head turning quickly to look at you as he slows at the first redlight after the freeway, a grin twitching on his lips softly as he takes in the sight of you.

He must think you can’t see him staring, because he continues to do it, until the light has changed green and he’s made no move to press on his gas.

“It’s green.”

“Huh?”

You look over at him, his rosy cheeks and diverted eyes at being caught, and repeat yourself with more emphasis, “The light’s green, idiot.”

“Oh, shit!”

Another snort, another rapid (albeit shorter) glance on his part.

He’s got a nice smile. Even if he might totally be a secret serial killer who was just jumping at the opportunity to murk his unsuspecting and vulnerable coworker in the middle of the woods. He could get away with it with a smile like that.

It’s only once he’s turned onto a dirt road that leads out into the woods that you really care to finally ask one of the first questions you probably should have asked the moment you got in his van – “Uh, Eddie? Where… Where are you taking me?”

“Trust me,” he insists, both hands gripping his wheel with care as he navigates the car into thicker foliage, “I promise I’m not going to, like, murder you.”

“Sounds like something someone who is going to murder me would say,” you put in a little extra effort, offering him the joke and more than a snort this time.

You don’t miss the swell of pride that lifts him to sit up just a tad bit straighter in his seat. As if your joking, as if your laughing, was something he was proud to elicit from you.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, then.”

He drives pretty deeply into the woods, until the road turns rougher and the treeline is thick enough you can’t catch clearsight of the main road anymore. You really should be worried, but all you do instead of mustering up any anxiety is roll down the window. It makes him glance at you, but you don’t pay that look any mind.

The smell of rain is even stronger, heavy as it mingles with the scent of pine and dirt. It somehow dances between something familiar and something new, a distant memory that unlocks and soothes some of that tightness that had been residing in your chest for a week now. It doesn’t smother, but it does gather up in your nose, tickling in the slightest. You swear, if you were to focus hard enough, you’d pick up on the comforting smell of a burning campfire somewhere. It just seemed like the kind of appropriate scent to add to the essence of it all. The strings of light that break through leaves in golden hues, the cloud spitting out of his back tires as he clearly goes just above the recommended speed for this old road, the pleasant chirp of a bird that whistles right past – the essence of pure comfort to someone like you.

It kind of makes you wish you lived in Hawkins, just as you assumed Eddie did.

He finally slows the van into a clearing, never once scolding you for rolling the window down. He leaves you as you twist your body in what must be an uncomfortable fashion to rest your chin on the top of the door, cheeks and nose just barely peeking out of the car. Every slap of the breeze on your face feels as though you’re releasing another bit of worry to the wind, your chest continuing to grow lighter and lighter.

“Alright, Sunshine,” he clears his throat, throwing the van into park. The clearing is very obviously a small campsite – you can make out a fire pit just a few paces away and the perfect space cleared of rocks, “You call the shots. What are we gonna do?”

“What?”

Eddie leans over the center console, getting closer to you as thunder rolls in the distance, “What do you want to do? You called Mordor, so whatever is going to help you, we’ll do.”

You want to tell him that just doing as he has, not saying no and not asking questions as he drove the two of you out into the middle of nowhere, helped. The fact that he hadn’t hesitated when he’d processed that you’d said Mordor was already doing wonders for the storm that had brewed within your chest. You’d managed to snag extra time with the boy who had a way about making everything alright, and that in itself was able to erase some of your week from Hell.

But he’s looking at you, awaiting a real answer, so you say the first thing you can think of, “Do you have your copy of The Hobbit on you, by chance?”

“Oh, say less, sweetheart,” Quickly, Eddie fumbles with his seatbelt and unbuckles himself, swinging open his door and clambering out onto the soft ground waiting below. He waits for a moment, hands on his hips as he looks at you expectantly, “Well? C’mon. I promise you the back seat is far more comfortable.”

“Does that line usually work for you?”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Every fuckboy means it like that, Eds.”

You don’t know it, but his heart swells a little bit at the nickname.

“Good thing I’m not a fuck boy then,” he leans back into the van a little, smiling wildly, “Now come and join me in the back of my van in a totally platonic, definitely not suggestive way, Sunshine.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice; you’re climbing out to follow him to the back of the van, not even flinching as you both slam your doors shut in sync and you giggle the entire way. It’s just his effect. Everything is lighter with him around, and you’re starting to believe he should be the one called Sunshine instead of you.

“M’lady,” he bows dramatically, swinging open the heavy doors for you.

The climb in is a bit awkward, but you don’t even think about it as you take in the nest of an arrangement Eddie has set up in the back of his van. There’s an old comforter spread out across the entire floor of it, with several smaller blankets bunched at random with a few pillows.

“Are you sure you’re not a fuckboy?” you question as you’re careful to not touch the blankets with the sole of your shoes, twisting and beginning to unlace the sneakers that had seen better days. There’s stains of various sauces and syrups from work, and surely milk layering the bottom of them. You’re positive if you investigated close enough, you’d even find coffee grounds lodged between the ridges of the textured sole.

“Positive,” Eddie follows you in, reaching and shutting the doors carefully behind him. He’s less meticulous about his own boots, hardly undoing the knots and kicking them off into the same corner you’d placed your shoes, “I solemnly swear you are the first to see these freshly cleaned blankets.”

“What about before you cleaned them?”

“Sweetheart,” he throws himself down on one of the worn pillows, laying right beside where you have your knees drawn up to your knees. He’s flat on his back, hair flaring out in a halo around his head as he looks up at you with big, brown eyes, “You’re killing me here.”

You can’t help it. The two of you are probably not nearly close enough for what you impulsively do, but you’ve had a hard week, and his hair looks damn soft.

Your fingers are reaching out to trace over some of the wild and thrown out strands of curls before you can overthink it. Curling caramel and honey softness, you try to not let your breath catch as your pull up on the strand and let it run between your knuckles rather than just fingertips.

“Yeah?” you smile gently, watching him melt as you twirl the end of the curl you’d been playing with around the length of your finger, “Any specific requests for your funeral?”

He plays along, trying to not get too lost up in the barely-there feeling of you playing with his hair, “Your attendance, obviously. And probably some good music. Preferably Metallica – again, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.”

“Actually, d’you think you can get Kirk Hammett himself to attend? That’d be the best outcome. My only request, actually.”

“You’d rather Kirk Hammett attend your funeral than me?”

“I’ve got priorities here, Sunshine.”

Your fingers have traveled up to his scalp now, scratching gently as you both are consumed in withheld laughter and brilliantly shy smiles, letting go of heavy weeks and succumbing to all of the sunlight crammed into the back of Eddie’s van.

“Alright,” your fingers pause their scratches, “I believe you were meant to read me a bedtime story, Munson.”

“Bedtime story? It’s not even afternoon yet,” Eddie scoffs, throwing a hand up as he digs beneath one of the small, fluffy blankets in the corner. When his hand comes back into view, it clutches that same copy of The Hobbit you’ve seen on the back desk at work on multiple occasions, “Alright, well, make yourself comfortable.”

Eddie shifts to sit up, your hand falling from his scalp as he piles a few of the pillows from beside him to prop him up as you mentally debate your options.

You could just lay down beside him. Not touching, just listening. The arrangement was comfortable enough and you have no doubt that it would still be exactly as you needed after all the stress.

Or you could be daring. You could do more than listen; you could lay your head in his lap, or maybe rest your tired temple against his shoulder. Your could press up against him tightly under the excuse that the space back here was limited and you could selfishly indulge in all that he was willing to offer for this afternoon. More than brushing touches, more than playful glances.

You could feel the skin of his arm against your own bare shoulder and for a moment, you could just pretend.

Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink this.

You opt for the lap. It’s more comfortable. Less intimate, you convince yourself.

When your cheek presses into the rough denim stretching over his thigh, you can feel him tense up momentarily. Everything seemingly stops for just a second – even his breathing. But by the time you notice, it’s already resumed. You start to worry you’ve overstepped boundaries, gone too far for two coworkers playing pretend as ‘friends’.

This definitely isn’t what he meant. First you played with his hair, now you’re laying your head on his lap. You need to learn personal space, personal boundari-

All thoughts evaporate as Eddie suddenly tugs one of the blankets over you, letting it drape comfortably over your shoulder.

“Shall we begin?”

Eddie’s voice was made to narrate Tolkien. It becomes apparent between the way he enunciates each word to paint a beautiful fantasy world, his fluctuation changing for each character without missing a beat. His voice takes on a slightly deeper timber than his normal speaking voice as you listen to the storm that had been teasing the entire drive finally break. Hard winds knock against the sides of the van occasionally, the patter of rain echoing off the metal roof of the van. Thunder becomes more frequent, and you couldn’t be sure, but there must be lightning somewhere above the trees to match it. But it doesn’t reach the two of you, the random bursts of light easily mistaken for swaying shadows through the windshield.

Here in this van, with just you and Eddie and the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, it feels as if nothing bad can touch either of you. Not long weeks, not irate customers, not pessimistic friends or family – nothing. A certain bubble of safety has been created here, and you revel in it. Preen in the certainty of a few hours rest as Eddie’s fingers begin to tangle in your hair and return the favor of playing with your own strands. A simple pattern; he starts at the scalp, runs the fingers all the way through until they trail down the slope of your neck and curve of your shoulder. On occasion, they even slip to caress the top of your spine through the blanket.

Somewhere between the warmth of the soft blanket enveloping you in the scent of clean laundry and the soothing repetitive motions, you find yourself slipping away into sleep. Well-deserved, very much needed sleep that welcomes you with open arms. It’s not quite the hug you had craved from Eddie back at the store, but it’s a hug all the same, and it does hold you close just tight enough to make you believe the afternoon is capable of pressing all your broken pieces back together. If not forever, then just for now. The comfort of it all only has you nuzzling your cheek deeper into the muscle of his thigh.

The lap, it turns out, was the right choice.

Little did you know how grateful Eddie was for your choice of position. Better for your head to rest on his lap than for your ear to be pressed to his chest and hearing the current thunder of his heart that challenges the storm beginning outside the van, beating far harder for you than a friend’s would.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson

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#ghost's writing #coffee shop blues #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #barista!eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #if you squint #playing around with povs don't mind me

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cherubshert · 2 months

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hihi !! i was wondering if u could make a fic about how reader has glasses and enhypen thinks its saur cute (separate members ofc)

thanks so much for reading this!

(֊⎚-⎚)

a/n: these are low-key bad and rushed lol. not edited, this is just fiction:). i hope u like :0

희승

The soft click of the camera signals the end of a session, polaroids hung around to dry, make-up and props littered around your desk. it's small, just you and heeseung, going all out for photography project you had. you pull off your glasses, resting them on the very uncomfortable surface you were sitting on. the dress you have on is simple, hand made by one of your other very close friends. you use your hand to raise it so you don't slip and fall, making your way to were heeseung was crouching.

"are they nice?" "very..." he replies distractedly his attention drawn to the picture in his hand. your head rests on his shoulder, "are you sure my glasses don't ruin the pictures?" "i wouldn't have told you to put them on if they did,you look cute." he leans back to kiss you, short but enough to have you hiding your face in his neck. he smiles before shaking you off. "come on we still have so many to take."

제이

Jay slowly pulls away from you, his face flushed , his hair slightly messy, falling into his eyes. "what happened?" you question, shifting you hands to rest on his shoulder. his smiles and tilts his head admiring your face before answering, "your glasses... kept poking at me." "sorry" you mutter your hands raising to take them of your face. his follow suit, gently brushing your fingers away, his large hand cupping your face. "don't get me wrong, m'not complaining. " his fingers follow the frame of your glasses, tracing round your ear . "it reminded me of how cute you look like this." "like how?" leaned in, rubbing your noses together. you shyly shift away, your back pressed against his desk. your hands going up to adjust your glasses. "like this." he pinches your cheek.

제이크

you let out a sigh, pushing your glasses up to rub your eyes. it's getting late now, the clock turning the second you looked at it '10:36p.m.' you turn over your shoulder, jake seating very comfortably on the couch, the tv playing so low that you were sure he couldn't hear anything. but his consideration to you made your heart flutter.

you stood to your feet, silently making your way to where he was. he jumps slightly when you sit next to him, once he calmed down his hand wrapped around your shoulder pulling you close. "you done with work?" "no but I was getting tired, needed a break." you reach forward grabbing the remote. you lean back into his arms, increasing the volume to the tv.

jake is silent the entire time, his breath so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

feeling your glasses be pulled off your face, shot you out of your trance. "these are so cute on you." he puts it on, turning to you with a smile. his change in energy is definitely alarming, but nothing you're not used to. you mirror his smile reaching forward, cupping his face, squishing his cheeks. "they're even cuter on you." laughter erupts between you two.

you both calm down very quickly, your back pressed to the couch, Jake hovering over you. he very messily puts your glasses on your face, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "you're so gorgeous, but these bring out a different type of beauty." he says drowsily, you giggle, hand raising to brush his hair out of his face. he leans into your touch, sleep easily overtaking him.

성훈

"cut!" you sigh, resting your head on the table. sunghoon silently places a bottle of water beside you, settling in the desk before you looking over his script.

your head rises up finally, leaning on your wrist. "I'm so tired." he smiles at you. "we are almost done for today. just a few more hours." you only grumble in response.

the next hour flies by fast, and soon its time to go home. you two thank the staff , filing out with your small group of managers. "we could go out for a little snack first." sunghoon suggests, you tiredly nod in agreement, following behind him to a café nearby.

its small and cozy, the smell of coffee beans and pastry sugars filling the air, you get something small, sitting by the window to look over the scenes you'd be focusing on tomorrow. your glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.

you don't notice his staring till your orders arrive, looking up to find his eyes on you before they quickly shift away, thanking the waiter.

"you don't wear your glasses very often." you look at him. "oh no, i usually have contacts. " he leans his head on his palm, smiling at you. "they look very cute."

선우

You were rather hard to miss, seated in front of him, your head often hidden behind a book. you're both on very different levels socially. sunoo always being surrounded by a crowd of friends and people he admittedly never met or even cared about. and you, there was only one person he'd ever seen you with.

you drew him in, often finding himself lost in delusional daydreams, surrounding your very unique beauty. a flower, often graced by the sun, your skin shines so magically. one of his favorite things about you was your glasses.

rather large for your face, but ever so beautifully added to your aura. the way you pushed them back when they slipped off your face, the pretty charms you often adorned them with.

so when you, turn back, your eyes meeting his through the lens, his heart flutters, immediately turning back to his note book. he stares at the empty page in distraught, not registering the shuffling of the other students moving around the room, or even the chair placed by his table.

"sunoo?" his head shoots up so fast, "we're supposed to work together on the project." you say as you placed your books down. "oh? okay" he feels a little dazed, closing his notebook and placing them away.

정원

The nurse's office is not really where you wanted to end your day, your leg being bandaged, the nurse giving you advice on how to care for your injury. how did you get hurt? taking pictures of the football team for your school's yearbook, you weren't expecting to be turned into a target of a stray ball...

Jungwon rushes into the room when the nurse exists, an apologetic look on his face. your glasses are held gently in his hand, he's still in his football uniform, telling you he's been waiting since you got here. "I'm really sorry again, i should have been very careful." "it's fine, i was also being reckless." you reach out for your glasses, grabbing them a lot harsher than you wanted.

you put them on, pushing them to a comfortable position. you try to get on your feet, but the bruise on your leg, though small sends pain through you. jungwon very gently pushed to help you walk, some how convincing you to let him walk you home.

The walk to your home is silent, and once you reach your apartment complex, he pass your bag to you. "thank you." "um, by the way, you look really pretty with your glasses on." you turn back to him, your backpack half way on your shoulder. he blushes, "i mean you look pretty in general, but I, you-" "thank you." you say with a smile, pushing your glasses up. "i hope I'm not making you uncomfortable." "not at all, you're very adorable you know. " the last part is so light he barely hears it, his shyly playing with his fingers."thank , thank you." he replies bashfully, "if you still want to take more pictures of the team, i would love to help." "that would be helpful... see you tomorrow." "yes... see you tomorrow."

니키

you dust off your outfit, fixing your jacket and mic. your stylist fixes off your make-up, passing a pair of glasses to you. you put them on, thanking your staff, before rushing to where you were supposed to wait. the director gives you some directions, and telling you the basics about how things will be filmed. you don't notice niki till you turn around, you bow at him and he does the same.

you both stand around awkwardly, waiting for your cue to start. when the instrumental starts, you shift closer to him."your glasses..." he says softly, "they look cute."

#cherubshert diary.#kpop fanfic #kpop x black reader #kpop x poc reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen reactions

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fleursbending · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. | Sully Family

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : instead of lo’ak being the one diving into the sinking ship, it was you - neteyam’s twin sister. pushed by the sheer amount of adrenaline in your system, you desperately search for your family. knowing you cannot handle losing anymore of them as well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter (neteyam's twin sister)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : heavy on the dad!jake x reader & brotherly lo'ak in this. is this me trying to stake my claim as becoming one of your fave sully!daughter writers? yes, it is!! seriously uhmmm prep your tissues for your daddy issues! yes, that was a purposeful rhyme. & sorry didn't rlly proofread this!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, mentions of grief, loss, death, protective and emotionally exhausted reader :(, ure gonna cry because i love pain. hurt/comfort, angst.

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Tsmuke - sister, Tsmukan - brother, Iarsä - Y/n's Ilus name, Yawntutsyìp - darling or little loved one.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k words !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hi my beloveds! thank you for all the support on this <3 part 2 can be read: here!

𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, the cries of her mother muffled to her ears that lay flat on her head. Her other half, her twin brother. The eldest, born only 7 minutes apart, was no longer there. There had come a time when his presence was so natural, no questions asked - no alarming feeling. He was always her shadow, and if not. Neteyam was there in an instant at her beck and call.

They were both spitting images of their mother, they even shared her same deep spiritual connection with Eywa. Even their songcords aligned with each other. Y/n remembers then, how her mother had said such occurrences only really happen with twins. That in itself was a rarity for their clan.

Now he was gone, yet she remained. The shadow that loomed over her, escaped as the Eclipse crept up on them.

You blink once, twice. Wiping the tears that you didn’t even realize were streaming down your face. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Lo’ak blankly gazing down at his hands which were coated in Neteyam’s blood. She scoots closer to him then, ripping the fringes of her loin-cloth off and dipping it into the water.

If Lo’ak notices the shakiness of her hands, he doesn’t comment on it. It feels like his tongue had been stapled to the roof of his mouth at that very moment. Alas, his tender heart squeezes a fraction as you use the fabric to try to wipe away the remnants of blood.

A rough voice coming from your father cuts through the sentimental moment.

“Where are your sisters?” He’s not intentionally glaring, but his eyes alone felt like he was picking through your soul.

“Your sisters, where are they?” He repeats, more urgency detected in his tone now.

“I don’t know.” Lo’ak mumbles, every part of him looking lost.

Your mother's cries of terror grow in volume then.

“Where are they!” Jake bellowed, time was of the essence. Now more than ever.

“Dad,” Y/n whines out, wishing for him to just take a moment.

His eyes meet yours for a moment, before breaking away. He couldn’t look at you right now, doing so would make him lose all of his resolves. Jake had to stay locked, just for a few more moments. Then he’ll have the chance to mourn, to bring you into his arms. To apologize for how now you must live the same faith he had to endure and suffer through.

“On the ship, they are tied up on the ship.” Tsireya wavers, her grip on Neteyam’s leg not letting up.

Spider's mouth moves, but you don’t hear a thing. Turning back to your brother, you hover over him. Neytiri leans into you as she cradles him to her chest.

Jake gets your mom’s attention, and by doing so she passes Neteyam to you. Y/n freezes up, feeling how cold he is. Seeing how pale he is. This isn’t her mighty brother, it was a shell of him.

As Neytiri flies away on her Ikran, the sound of its wings breaks you out of your reverie. Gently, you lay him back down on the rock before pushing yourself up. Staggering over to Lo’aks side, he pulls you into him.

Usually, he’d nag about your height difference, but this time he used it to his advantage to briefly tuck his head into your shoulder.

Jake looks to Lo’ak. “Both of you, stay with your brother.”

Lo’ak takes a step forward, bringing you with him.

“But dad, I want to go with you,” Lo’ak whispers.

“Please, dad,” Y/n begs, unable to fathom sitting by her deceased twin while her sisters were still in harm's way.

Jake shakes his head, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad,” Lo’ak breaks. A part of him cracks, the guilt and shame consuming him.

Y/n places a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some support.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, brother,” Y/n spoke, catching on to where his mind was heading.

There you watch as your dad and Spider become one with the water. Y/n moves back to kneel down beside Tsireya, as she cradles Neteyam’s face and gives him a light kiss on his forehead.

Lo’ak takes one last glance at his brother before reluctantly tugging on your arm.

Y/n regards him with uncertainty. Before you can question him though, he caresses the side of Tsireya’s face for a second. “Stay with him.”

Tsireya flounders, “No!”

He rushes to the edge of the rock, and you can only wince as you apologize to Tsireya for your and Lo’aks actions.

“I’m sorry, Tsireya.”

She tries to shout for you guys to come back, but it’s too late. You’re already both calling for your Ilu’s as you jump into the ocean.

Iarsä swam right beneath you, and in an instant, you are gripping her tightly and making tsaheylu. Deep in your brain, you wondered if Neteyam’s Ilu felt the loss you do. What about his Ikran? Oh, Eywa.

“Tsmuke!” Lo’ak called for you as you started to lag behind a little.

Quickening your pace, you moved by him. His worried eyes flittered over to yours.

“Tsukan, I am fine.” You tried to reassure him, but you know he saw through it all.

His lips pulled down into a frown, but he knew now wasn’t the time to comment back to you.

Either way, he is interrupted by the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth. The ship isn’t too far from you guys now, but it’s beginning to flip over and sink down.

Lo’ak guided you closer to the ship, haphazardly avoiding miscellaneous floating objects.

“That’s Spider and Kiri!” Lo’ak blurted out, his finger pointing at two figures bobbing up and down in the water.

Y/n nods, as Lo’ak yips to alert them that they are here.

“Bro!” A light flashes in your eyes, and it’s coming from Spider.

A sigh of relief escapes you seeing Kiri alright, but you can still see how distraught she looks. It physically hurts you not to tell her what had just happened, but time was escaping you all even more quickly.

Kiri watches the Ship fully engulfed by the ocean. She trembled, “Mom and dad are down there, in the ship!”

An alarm rings like an insistent bell in your mind. Of course, no wonder they were alone.

But where is Tuk? Y/n’s conscience is on overdrive, the exhaustion is gnawing at her heavily. She’d get nowhere like this, tackle one thing at a time. That’s what she needs to do.

“Grab on- Y/n!” Lo’ak protested as you descended further into the murky waters. Except it was too late, she was already gone.

Y/n’s eyes squinted as the water pulled at her skin due to the high speeds she was going at. In spite of that, it did not matter. Nothing mattered more than saving whatever was left of her family.

Darting into the first opening of the ship you are able to squeeze through, not without realising the spaces were far too cramped to navigate your Ilu through. With that, you reluctantly release her.

The further you descended, the more effort it took to be able to examine your surroundings. You can feel your chest starting to tighten just a little. However, Y/n notices a faint outline of an avatar body ahead of her.

It takes every willpower within her to not weep at the sight of your dad twitching against a part of the collapsing ship. Jumping into action, wrapping both of your arms around one of his. Then you tug as hard as you can, back from where you had just come from.

You recalled the air pocket you encountered not too long ago. Yes, that will work for now.

The closer you grew to your destination, the more your dad fidgeted in your tight grasp. Then, his arms reached up.

Y/n and Jake exhale as they break through the surface.

“Dad?” She whimpers her heart, sinking as Jake struggles to catch his breath.

He clutches onto the side of the wall, his chest rising up and down far too rapidly.

“Dad, please. Take a few deep breaths!” She falters when trying to approach him, scared to jolt him even more.

He groans, eyes bleary, “Neteyam?”

It felt like an axe had been wedged in your heart. You’ve dealt with far too much in a span of few hours.

“No, dad. It’s Y/n”

“Oh, Y/n…you just look so much like him.” He struggles to say.

Y/n clenches her eyes closed in despair. She knew that voice, it was the one he’d use to try to weave out of something. Sugarcoating, he had told you when you were younger.

She couldn’t help but weigh on the thought that he probably thought he was dead and with Eywa.

Sighing, her hand presses into her face. “Sorry, I know. You and ma always say that.”

In a blink of an eye, profound guilt encapsulates her very being. Once again, Y/n has been reminded of Neteyam. What she has lost, what she must now grieve.

Gulping, her voice stammered “I’m sorry, sir. His death was all my fault. I should have done better.”

Jake’s heart lurches at your words, being reminded of Tommy.

“Focus, just focus on getting out.” He coughs as the lights behind you flicker. The ship's loud groans rattle in both of your ears.

“Okay, okay,” Y/m mumbles to herself. Analyzing her surroundings, she realizes the water is rising at a quicker pace. Dammit.

“We’re losing air pockets, dad. Come on, let’s go,” She insisted.

Jake lets out sounds of pain as he moves into the corner.

“You know your way out?” He inquires. Before you look at him with a scrutinizing gaze he takes you in with all his pride. His daughter, his first-ever daughter.

Ah, there it is. Furrowed brows and all.

“I think so. But dad, you’re gonna have to hold your breath for a while. Okay?” She responded, ignoring the ache in her limbs.

You lean into him then, thumbing the blood seeping out from one of the cuts on his face.

Just like he’d do to you when you were little, an action so simple whenever you’d hurt yourself. Something you inhabited from him.

That’s exactly why he can’t keep you here. You still had so much more to live for.

“I can’t make it, but you can. You can, you can.”

You speak over the top of him, anguish spreading across your facial features. “No, no-no, dad!”

The tone in your voice pitches, conveying the desperation you felt right at that moment.

“I refuse, I can’t lose you too. Not you, dad.” She says vehemently. So much finality had been wrapped into that sentence, and he knew that you weren’t going to move.

If he can’t make it, then you weren’t leaving his side. You’re going to stay right here.

He rapidly blinks his eyes, finally clearing his vision properly.

Ignoring the pounding from his head, he looks at you. Truly examining you.

The face you hold at that moment is the deepest wound to strike him yet from today.

Just now, he can see how mature you’ve become in a span of less than a day. It left him with such scorching indignation. No kid should have to grow up this quickly, but the unique circumstances brought upon your family had forced you to do so.

There are tears running down your face, and the seawater should mask it well. But he’s your father, he knows. He can see you clutching something tightly in your hands then. It feels like cinder blocks had been pushed against his gut when he recognizes it to be one of Neteyam’s armbands.

Y/n follows his eyes, unclenching her first. He was right.

She swallows, lips trembling. “It was floating in the ship close to where you were before, maybe it was a sign from him. He was letting me know you were close. I didn’t even realize when it floated into my hand. It must have slipped off before he…”

A deep frown settles on Jake’s face whilst hearing you get choked up. He kicks his legs, ignoring the throbbing feeling spreading through his body.

He leans his head on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.” He coos.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to calm down.

After he pressed his lips to your forehead, you lean back from him.

“We’re running out of time. Okay, you need to be really calm. Breathe down from here.” You press your hand to his lower chest. Mimicking the breathing you learned not too long ago from your dear friend Tsireya.

He follows you, pursing his lips. Inhaling, exhaling.

You close your eyes.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end.

The sea is around you and in you.

The sea is your home before your birth, and after your death.”

Your eyes open, watching Jake take your words in. He tries his absolute hardest to ease his mind, just like you had done moments ago.

Good, he’s doing good.

Y/n continues.

“The sea gives, and the sea takes.

Water connects all things.

Life to death, darkness to light.”

The water is now up to your chin, even as you tilt your head up.

“Dad, you can do this. Please.”

He nods his head, “I’m with you, Y/n.”

The words bring you great comfort, your heart now being able to lessen some of its burdens.

Y/n finally smiles.

“Okay, last breath. I love you, dad.”

He winces at the prickling pain but manages to give you a smile in return.

“I love you too, my daughter.”

With that, both of you breathe in before going underwater.

You start the treacherous journey out of here, doing your best to retrace the directions you had mapped out in your mind. Making sure to occasionally check back on your dad as you hurdle through random objects that stuck out.

Y/n looks behind her shoulder once again, easing up when she sees Jake not too far behind.

With a motion of your hand, you wordlessly say “follow me”. A reminder that maybe wasn’t needed, but you had to feed your dad some courage.

Your chest begins to constrict a little, but you try to keep your mind elsewhere.

You thank Eywa as you see the exit, holding on to the bar as you reach your hand out.

Jake latches on to it as you swim through the opening. There you both try to seamlessly get out from the remainder of the ship. The gap between you and the surface lessening.

But Jake begins to slow down significantly. Immediately worried, you wrap your arms around him. Chugging over your limit as you pull him up with you.

Y/n starts to hear the muffled noises of her dad starting to choke.

No, no, no. We’re almost there.

A gush of movement is felt from behind you both.

Lo’ak is holding onto Payakan’s fin, using his free arm he darts out to grab your elbow. He tugs you to him.

There, you and Jake are able to hold on to the Tulkun for further momentum.

The cool air nips at your cheeks as you finally break through the water.

“Hang on, both of you! Breathe, breathe.” Lo’ak urges as he quickly holds your face to see if you’re alright.

Y/n bows her head and then goes to personally thank Payakan for saving their lives.

“I see you, son.” She hears, there you gaze as Lo’ak and Jake share a bittersweet moment.

However, right behind them, you see familiar figures moving closer to you all.

“Ma Jake!” Neytiri called.

“Dad, dad!” Tuk cried.

“Mom!” You and Lo’ak gushed.

“Come here, I have you. It’s Okay.”

“Tuk, Kiri.” She whispers to herself, finally allowing relief to invade her senses.

Your mother leans over, squeezing both your and Lo’aks hands.

But you needed more.

Pushing off of Paykan's fin, you swim over to where Neytiri and Tuk was.

Neytiri grabs you swiftly, letting you fall into the makeshift circle.

“Oh, my yawntutsyìp. My sweet, sweet child.” She mumbles, repeatedly kissing your cheek.

She could not even begin to fathom the loss you have yet to fully process and grieve for.

Another person in the Sully family tree had lost a sibling today.

“Tsmukan, Tsmuke.” Kiri too leans forward in concern.

You just give her a solemn smile, grateful that almost all of you were safe and alive.

She watches her parents embrace before her eyes loom over the empty gap in their family huddle.

It felt like only yesterday how Neteyam would always pinch her and Lo’aks ears, “Why are you guys always forgetting our family meetings?”

Huddling closer to one another, while unspoken you each know this event was something that would drastically change all of your lives forever.

“Sully’s stick together. That was their greatest weakness, and their greatest strength.”

“Thank you, great mother,” Kiri speaks up into the sky.

“Yes.” Neytiri echoes.

Lo’ak gazed at you, then to the sky above.

Y/n followed his actions. She was hoping to each mighty being above, that Neteyam was safe and sound. No longer in pain or danger. That was the least her dear brother deserves.

As everyone loosened their holds, your parents did the opposite. Instead, they brought you into their arms.

There, they cried with you. Finally having a chance to mourn the loss of your twin, their son.

From above and with Eywa, Neteyam looked down at you all with questioning eyes.

“Why are they all crying, great mother?” He asked, not being able to understand the entirety of the situation that occurred before him.

Eywa can only give him a saddened smile.

“Because my child, they are grateful to have known you.”

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

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aislinrayne · 2 months

Text

[𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱]

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: After a particularly rough case, Reader starts acting distant. Lockwood thinks giving her space will help. When he's woken by the phone ringing, George doesn't need to know what happened to know it's probably Lockwood's fault.

ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: Mature/Explicit.

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Alcohol consumption, strong language, sexual content (second base with intent to go further), anxious avoidant Reader, Reader is shorter than Lockwood, drunk Reader, Reader is harassed at the bar, brief touch without consent, no use of y/n.

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Fuck I love playing with different kinds of dynamics. I've had this sitting partially drafted in my writing folder for a year now, and the brain-goblins wouldn't let me keep working on SM until this was done lmao Please let this be the year I finally get a handle on my creative flow fml

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 6.1k

The first time the phone rings, both inhabitants of 35 Portland Row manage to remain deep in a well earned slumber.

The second time the phone rings, it successfully rouses one George Karim. Muttering a string of colourful insults under his breath that - had he been in his family home - would have earned him a smack over the head with his mother’s slipper, he reluctantly drags himself from the warmth and comfort of his duvet. Letting out a long suffering sigh that lasts through the entire shuffle from his room to the phone on the floor below, he lifts it from the receiver and greets the caller with a noise somewhere between ‘hello’ and ‘fuck off’.

“Evening, sorry to wake you. This is James, calling from The Royal Oak. Is there a, uh-” Even over the numerous voices and the clinking of glass in the background, George can hear the gruff sounding man being interrupted by a woman’s voice mumbling incoherently before all sound is muffled by a palm being pressed over the mic on the other end, “-sorry, did you say…? Really, sweetheart? Alright, but don’t try to blame this on me tomorrow when you sober up.”

Then the phone is back to full volume. “Sorry about that, I’ve got a young lady here who says she lives at this address? She’s too drunk to get herself home and this is the number she gave for someone she trusts to come get her. But, uh, she-” James seems like he’d rather not say the next bit, “well, she just keeps asking for ‘that selfish wanker’? Won’t give me a name otherwise.”

There’s not a lot in this world capable of rendering George completely speechless, but that… That does it. He allows the phone to drop from his ear for a moment, resting it on his shoulder as he attempts to compose himself and reply to the nice man on the other end of the line.

“Uh… Yeah, she- she’s ours. Probably talking about our boss, then. I’ll, uh… I’ll go wake him. I’m sure he’ll be there very soon.” He has to speak up over the sound of James choking and sputtering in surprise to say a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, before slamming the phone down and jogging up the stairs to wake his friend.

He pauses for a moment halfway up, considering heading back downstairs to grab a boot to throw at the door. Unfortunately his need for immediate answers outweighs his urge to be petty, so he settles for pounding loudly on the door instead. There’s quiet rustling and not so quiet cursing on the other side before it’s ripped open.

“What?!” A dishevelled Anthony Lockwood snaps, blinking sleep from glaring eyes and leaning on the doorframe in an endeavour to keep himself upright.

“Just got a call from The Royal Oak, down on York Street? Turns out they have a resident of this address drunkenly calling for a ‘selfish wanker’ to come pick her up.” George crosses his arms, raising a challenging eyebrow at the taller man.

Lockwood’s expression shifts from its existing irritated frown into confusion, then straight to alarm. He wastes no time flipping the light switch beside the doorway, bathing the room in light as he crosses it to tug one of his dresser drawers open.

“Can you call me a Night Cab, please? Offer them double fare to prioritise.” He calls over his bare shoulder, searching for a t-shirt and hoodie to toss on. His researcher says nothing as he complies, deciding to save the interrogation for later.

Anthony is properly worried. Their third roommate had come back from their last job acting distant. They’d been separated by a pair of particularly nasty Spectre’s for close to an hour, but she’d succeeded in securing the Source’s and they’d all made it out in one piece. He’d been so caught up in pride for his team he hadn’t noticed the effect it had on her until days later. When he tried to approach her with his concerns, she clammed up and looked as though she was about to cry before excusing herself to her room. None of the members of his agency, himself included, had seen her exit her room for two days after that. He hadn’t asked about it since, and while giving her space seemed to be working by way of not making her cry, he was starting to wonder if it had been upsetting her in a different way. Even taking all of that into consideration, there’s still no way he could have seen a phone call like this coming at 2:56 AM on a Tuesday.

All he can find is a sleeveless black undershirt. With a huff of frustration he pulls it over his head, kicking the drawer closed simultaneously, then pulling open the one above it. The joggers he fell asleep in are fine enough, so after a fit of undignified hopping across the room to cover his feet with pink socks he grabs a random hoodie off of the armchair by the window, shrugs into it, and zips it on his way down the stairs.

George is waiting for him at the bottom, staring at his watch.

“Your cab should be here in three minutes, mine should be here in thirteen.” He looks up from his wrist, meeting his boss’s confused look with an exasperated one. “I’m heading to Flo’s for the night, so whatever you fucked up, mate? Fix it.” Karim claps him on the shoulder, walking past him to pack an overnight bag. It might not be conventional, but Anthony knows it’s the closest thing to encouragement he’s going to get.

The next several minutes pass in a blur of waiting and worrying, until finally it’s 3:14 AM and he’s slipping the cab driver an extra twenty quid to wait for them, swearing to be no longer than fifteen minutes. The ungodly-early morning air is sharp and cold, cutting to the bone as soon as he steps out of the comforting warmth of the vehicle. It’s plenty enough encouragement to hurry his way to the building, pulling the door open to slip into the soft golden warmth and loud ambiance of the pub.

He hesitates on the doormat, catching sight of the other patrons. Thankfully it isn’t a particularly highbrow establishment, but it's nice enough for him to feel noticeably underdressed in black joggers and a grey zip-up. And then he lays eyes on her, and all insecurities are immediately banished by the sharp knife of shock burying itself in his gut.

She’s balanced on a table, wearing a little black dress he’d never seen before. Her arms are raised above her head, fingers combing through her hair as her hips sway to the bass of the music in a way that probably would have had his mouth watering if it wasn’t for present circumstances. He isn’t the only one noticing her. There’s a group of men standing around the table, watching her with hungry eyes that make his skin crawl with disgust. A tall blonde man pushes his way past the rest of the crowd, deep set ice blue eyes chasing up her legs. She seems to either be unaware of his presence, or too lost in the music to care. Even from his position across the room he can see her eyes are out of focus, drifting away for split seconds every few beats from the speakers on the wall. The man raises a hand and grabs her thigh, using enough pressure to leave visible fingermarks.

Lockwood finds himself frozen in place, blood boiling as he mentally considers how challenging talking his way out of a murder charge could really be. Surely not that much harder than talking his way out of an arson charge, and he’d done that often enough to be confident in his abilities.

Before his sleep deprived mind can break free of its indecision, the girl spins around abruptly and slaps the lecherous limb away from her. The slime of a man attached to it is none too happy about that, making a move to grab for her arm. Her normally impeccable reflexes are slowed by the alcohol, she can’t move fast enough to avoid the attack. When his fingers close around her wrist, he pulls. Hard. She teeters on the edge of the table, her short cry of pain audible even over the music.

Huh. He’d always thought the whole ‘seeing red’ thing was entirely turn of phrase, but as it turns out, there’s actually a modicum of truth to it.

He’s halfway across the bar by the time he realises he’s in motion, but he’s not about to stop. Closing the remaining distance in a few purposeful strides, he grabs the creep’s arm in a vice grip. The blonde releases his hold on her immediately, instinctively trying to pull away from the pain. Lockwood lets him stumble away in surprise, wasting no time placing himself in between his friend and the threat to her safety. At first he’s optimistic he might have a chance to vent some anger when the wanker locks eyes with him, but whatever he’d seen in Anthony’s was enough to make him back down and stumble off with an insincere apology.

Reminding himself to focus his attention where it belongs, he turns to look up at the girl on the table. Her face lights up with delight when she recognizes him, then swiftly sours the longer she looks at him. He feels like an absolute prick for not noticing the dark circles around her eyes sooner. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he reaches up to offer her both of his hands, palms up. She sways in place for a moment, scowling pensively at the proffered appendages. He studies her face while he waits patiently, trying to find any hint of what could be bothering her enough to take this approach to forgetting.

With a tiny hiccup she finally caves, placing her hands in his and allowing him to help her to solid ground. Once both of her feet are securely on the sticky floor, he offers her his arm for support. She gives him another little glare, but just like before, she eventually accepts his help. Scanning the other tables and chairs around her makeshift stage, he sees no sign of a purse or jacket that he recognises in the slightest.

“Did you bring anything with you, sweetheart?” He asks her directly, leaning closer to her ear to be heard over the noise. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she looks almost flustered; eyes glazed, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink, looking through him rather than at him as she tries to filter his words through the haze of liquor clouding her mind. Although he’s prepared to wait as long as it takes for her to answer, he can’t help but feel a touch relieved when the bartender waves him over holding a familiar leather clutch. Gently taking her by the arm, he guides her to a nearby chair to sit and wait for him to collect her belongings. Giving a final warning look to the remaining crowd for good measure, he leaves her side to approach the bar.

The man behind it is average height, with mid length dark hair as well kept as his perfectly trimmed goatee. He abandons the glass he’s polishing, tossing the white cloth he’d been using over his shoulder and offering Anthony a calloused hand. “I take it you must be-”

“‘That selfish wanker’? Present and accounted for, though I also answer to ‘Anthony’.” He replies, accepting the handshake.

The other man’s grip is firm but friendly, and he throws his head back in merriment at Lockwood’s unexpected introduction. “James, pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your little Songbird over there.”

Lockwood winces. “Not all bad, hopefully.”

“No, not all bad.” James soothes before leaning in conspiratorially, “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

He shoots him a wink as he settles back, and now it’s Anthony’s turn to laugh. It’s decided then and there; they like each other.

He reaches behind the lip of the bar, grabbing the clutch he’d tucked out of sight until he could determine Lockwood’s identity. “This is all she brought with her. You’ve got a safe way home?”

Anthony takes it from him with a grateful smile. “Yeah, paid the driver to stick around. I consider myself pretty good at multitasking, just not ‘keeping her upright and not getting ghost-touched’ good.” James lets loose a hearty laugh in response.

The screech of wood against the floor draws their attention back to the woman formerly in the chair, now standing unsteadily a few feet away.

“And that’s my cue. Pleasure to meet you, James. And, uh-” He glances back at her involuntarily. “Thank you. For keeping an eye on her, calling us, the lot of it.”

The bartender smirks, quirking an eyebrow and giving him a knowing look. “It's what any decent person would do. Don’t be a stranger now, either of you.”

Lockwood departs the bar, clutch in hand, with a salute and a promise to be back another time. She seems confused at first when he tries to get her attention, switching to stare at him reproachfully when she recognises him again. He sighs, trying to tuck away his own feelings of exhaustion and defeat.

“Let's get you home, love.” He murmurs, offering his arm again. She takes it without hesitation this time, leaning heavily against him as they make their way to the exit. Pausing on the doormat, he carefully extracts his limb from her grip, soothing her little noise of protest by assuring she’d be using him as a crutch again momentarily. The metal of the zipper is cold against his bare arms as he shrugs his hoodie off, blatantly ignoring her attempts to argue with him and draping the grey fabric over her shoulders.

The cold breeze cuts into him once they’re outside, but he carefully schools his expression to avoid showing her it's affecting him at all. Despite having paid the man extra, he’s still pleasantly surprised to see the black cab still waiting at the curb. It’s easier than he’d expected to load her into the comfortable back seat. She doesn’t even try to swat his hand away when he places it on top of her head to prevent her bouncing it off the roof in her attempt to get in. Once she’s scooted to the far side, he climbs in after her. She seems lost in thought, staring absently at the headrest in front of her. He leans closer slowly, giving her ample time to move away if she doesn’t want him in her space. When she remains stationary, he reaches across her body to grab her seatbelt, gently buckling her in and tightening the belt over her hips.

She finally looks at him, expression blank as she studies his features. It’s clear her mind is elsewhere, and she returns to staring at the black leather so quickly he wonders if he’d imagined the whole thing. He gives their driver the all clear, directing him to drop them off where he’d first picked him up before slumping back into his seat for the uncomfortably quiet ride home.

They’re half-way there when he can stand to ignore the elephant in the room no longer. The words slip out before he can think of a more tactful way to ask; “What’s going on with you?”

She turns to look at him so slowly it’s almost unnerving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She answers bitterly, her voice laced with the same steel as her eyes.

“That’s bloody horseshit!” He scoffs, far too tired to hold back. “If there was nothing wrong, I wouldn’t have gotten a call tonight.”

Her mouth opens and closes soundlessly for several seconds, seemingly overwhelmed by the number colourful insults she’d like to hurl at him.

“Like you care.” She finally mutters, shaking her head and turning away from him to stare pointedly out her window.

“...What?” He manages to put his frustration on hold for a moment, making room for his growing concern. “Of course I care, what makes you think I wouldn’t?”

She laughs darkly, shaking her head. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” He cries in exasperation.

She whips around to face him. “You knew I was struggling! You knew, and you ignored it because it was easier than dealing with me!” Her eyes are wild, chest heaving as she draws in air like she has to fight for every breath.

All hostility drains out of him in an instant, leaving him uncomfortably hollow in its absence. He’s intimately aware of her eyes searching his face, trying to gain some kind of insight into his mind. He feels like he’s just stumbled into a minefield, and in a way he has. If his next words aren’t carefully chosen, he could detonate one and destroy his friendship with someone he can’t live without.

Organising his thoughts and taking a deep breath, he plunges ahead.

“I’m sorry. I thought by giving you space I was giving you what you needed, but I should have just talked to you. And you’re right, I was being selfish, just… not in the way you’re thinking.” She looks like she’s about to interrupt, but he ploughs on. “I was afraid if I pushed too hard you’d shut me out. I thought it would be safer to stay silent and let you come to me when you were ready, but it was my responsibility to communicate that to you, and I failed.”

They sit in stillness for far longer than he’s comfortable with, his words hanging in the air between them.

When she finally puts him out of his misery, he has to strain to hear her over the rumble of the car. “It wasn’t two Spectres.”

It feels like someone’s poured ice down his back. “...What?”

“The last job? We thought it was just two Spectres, but it wasn’t. It-” Her voice shakes, then dies. She has to stop and breathe, looking like she’s about to be crushed by the weight of the words on her tongue. “One of them was a Fetch.”

Staring down at his hands, he searches for the right words to say. Is he supposed to say anything at all? If he interrupts now, will she shut him out? If he doesn’t, will she think he doesn’t care? A point of personal pride for him is being able to read people, to shape himself into whatever role they need him to fill, but… he has no idea who she needs him to be right now.

She hesitantly continues. “It was you.”

He looks up at her only to find her eyes already on him. “It wasn’t.”

She laughs sadly, but doesn’t look away. When she tips her head to concede the point, the light catches at the corner of her eye. “Right. It did use your face, though.”

“Whatever it said, it isn’t true.” He can’t resist the urge to reach across the seat between them, wiping the tear from her cheek and hoping she can feel the truth in his words when he says; “A Fetch will find your worst fear and exploit it. And I swear to you, I will never allow anything to make you feel afraid like this again.”

Silence stretches on between them, becoming heavier with every second passing them by. His thumb continues stroking her face slowly, absentmindedly. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think her eyes had drifted to his lips.

“Kiss me.”

His hand falls from her face. For a second, he thinks it’s him that’s said it. When he realises it wasn’t, the potential implications of her words make his heart stutter. There’s a chance this is just a drunken impulse, a need for comfort in a moment of vulnerability. If it is, what the hell is he supposed to do about it? If he gives in to her, will he be able to carry on working beside her once he’s had a taste of the life with her he doesn’t even allow himself to dream about? On the flip side, there’s a chance that this is an actual confession. The Fetch had chosen his face to torment her, and as horrifying as that had been to hear, it only would have done so if she felt something for him. Maybe she feels the same as he does. Maybe the reason he can never figure out what mask to put on for her, is that she’s only ever needed him to be himself. Hope fills every inch of him as he stares at her, enraptured.

Then, he realises he’s been quiet for long enough for panic to fill her eyes.

“Ask me in the morning.” He breathes, feeling as perplexed as she looks when the words come out of his mouth. She’s confused that he hasn’t directly shot her down. He’s confused that he’s capable of this kind of restraint while sleep deprived.

“What?” She frowns, blinking as her eyes lose focus for a split second in her bewilderment.

Feeling more confident in his decision, he smiles softly at her. “Ask me when you’re sober, and when we’re not in this nice man’s cab.”

The driver laughs, trying and failing to cover it with a guilty cough.

Once they reach 35 Portland Row, Anthony covers the fare and slips the man a generous tip for enduring their antics before exiting the cab. The emotional intensity of the ride home had been enough to partially sober up his companion, but he still isn’t sold on her ability to climb stairs without assistance. He keeps his arm wrapped tightly around her waist until they reach the door of her room - formerly Lucy’s - on the top level of the house before reluctantly removing it. She wobbles for a moment, but it seems to be more from her leaning to chase his touch than any serious instability. They stand there for a while, neither willing to walk away from the other, until a large yawn overtakes her.

He chuckles, suddenly remembering James’ nickname for her. “Goodnight, Songbird.”

“That’s a stupid nickname.” She complains, scrunching up her face in distaste. When all he does is laugh some more, she sighs and carries on. “Goodnight, Anthony. Sweet dreams.”

He disagrees completely, of course. From her lips, his name is the sweetest song he’s ever heard. Turning away from him, she places her hand on the doorknob but doesn’t make any move to twist it. He’s about to ask her if something is wrong when she turns back to him swiftly, closing the distance between them and standing on her toes to brace her hands on his shoulders as she presses the ghost of a kiss against his cheek. By the time he’s raised trembling fingers to the tingling skin, she’s already in her room with the door closed behind her.

He spends his early morning dreaming of the flutter of wings, and birds gently pecking him on the cheek.

When he’s woken by persistent knocking on his door once more, Anthony Lockwood finds himself wondering what precisely he had done to piss off Hypnos in a past life.

Still on high alert from his unusual evening, he’s out of bed and across the room without a second thought. When he pulls the door open he’s entirely expecting another emergency, not to find the girl of his dreams standing there staring steadfast at her feet.

“I am so sorry about last night, I should have told you what was going on instead of going on a bloody bender. That was incredibly immature and irresponsible of me and I completely understand if you want to fire me.” She starts slow, but by the end of her apology the words are flying out of her mouth. Despite her best efforts, the misery in her voice as she says the last bit is tangible.

Why would he want that? Still not entirely awake, the first thing out of his mouth is the first thought in his mind. “Please don’t leave.”

“...What?” Not even remotely prepared for that response, she finally looks up at him. As their eyes meet, reality sets in and time seems to slow.

When he takes a proper look at her, he completely forgets the entirety of the English language. Her hair is mussed from sleep, remnants of last night's makeup smudged under her eyes. She’d apparently had the mental faculties to change into her pyjamas the night previous, and while he’d seen her in those shorts often enough to control the urge to stare, something about her wearing his hoodie zipped over them was making him feel like a moron. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. On the other side of the doorway, she’s having a very similar crisis. His sleep tousled hair only doubled her ever present urge to rake her fingers through it. And not only had he been in such a hurry to answer the door he hadn’t bothered to slip on a shirt, his joggers were also sitting dangerously low on his hips. Their eyes snap back to each other's faces in tandem, both flushing almost comical shades of red.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asks hurriedly, heart pounding in his throat.

“I said a lot of things.” She wraps her arms around herself, laughing nervously. “Which part?”

He keeps his eyes fixed on hers, searching them for some clue to tell him what comes next.

Mustering more courage than she thought she was capable of, she answers honestly. “Yeah, I did. Every word.”

Mimicking his actions from the night before he extends both of his hands towards her, palms up. She tilts her head quizzically, but places her hands in his. He uses them to pull her close enough their bodies are almost touching, guiding her arms to rest on his shoulders, releasing them to place one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck. She inhales sharply when he leans in, his thumb lightly stroking her jaw while her gaze flickers between his eyes and lips. He’s studying her face like he never wants to forget a single detail, but he doesn’t get any closer. She’s lightheaded and pretty sure she’s going to die if he doesn’t kiss her soon, which is probably why it’s not until she sees the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile that she realises what he’s waiting for.

“Kiss me.” She breathes.

He doesn’t need to be told a third time. He leans down and kisses her like he’ll never get the chance to do so again, like the world is falling to pieces around them and the only thing that can save them is the feeling of her lips against his. The hand on the side of her throat slides back to bury itself in her hair, cradling the back of her head to take the strain off her neck from their notable difference in height. Her hands wander the expanse of bare skin across his back, mapping every muscle and scar like it’s the braille translation of his life story. He shivers under her touch, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her body tight to his in a desperate attempt to fill the yawning pit within him that had grown larger with every day he believed he’d never get to hold her like this.

As she runs her hands down his sides to his hips he gasps involuntarily, deepening their kiss with enthusiasm. Driven by curiosity, she lets her nails graze his skin as she retraces her previous path. The noise he makes in response is downright sinful, but so is the feeling of his rapier-calloused skin against her back as he slips his hand under the hem of his hoodie. Her breath catches as his fingers trace featherlight patterns up and down her spine, feeling him grinning between kisses when he notices she’s not wearing anything beneath the grey material. When he nips at her lower lip, she drags her nails down his back, and the last of his restraint abandons him.

Both of his hands drop, fingers dimpling the flesh of her upper thighs. As in sync as they are in the field he’d never dared to imagine the same would apply to the bedroom, so he’s a little blown away when she understands his intentions immediately, jumping as he lifts her up to wrap her legs around his hips without breaking from each other. Now he’s the one craning his neck to capture her lips, the floor creaking beneath his feet as he crosses the short distance to the wall, pressing her back against it and groaning at the restrained whimper that slips free from her.

“Please don’t hold back. I want to hear you sing for me, my little Songbird.” He urges, adjusting his grip to slide his hands up her sides under his hoodie, palming one of her breasts and swiping a thumb experimentally across her skin to carefully catch one of her nipples between his thumb and the side of his forefinger. She finally breaks, back arching away from the wall, head falling back against it as she moans unabashedly. All of his strength threatens to leave him when she rolls her hips against his, dropping his free hand to grab at the plush of her ass and pull her impossibly closer as he whispers praise between frenzied kisses pressed to her throat. She buries her hands in his hair, gasping for air as his ministrations travel to her collarbones then slowly down the centre of her chest, placing an open-mouthed kiss to swell of her breast-

The front door slams open, startling them apart. There’s the sound of shuffling beneath them as someone kicks off their shoes.

“OI, MATE!” George’s voice calls from the base of the stairs, “Did you fix it?”

They look at each other, dazed and drunk off each other. A confused frown decorates her features, mouth falling open to ask him what the hell their other roommate is talking about. He shakes his head in exasperation, shooting her a look that reads ‘I’ll fill you in later’ and dropping his head to rest on her chest. They take as many seconds as they dare like that, her fingers combing through his hair soothingly as he wraps his arms around her back, basking in the warmth of her body against his. Reluctantly, he lifts his head and steps away from the wall, gently setting her back on her feet and pressing a kiss to her temple. She seems hesitant to move away from him at all, back to staring at her feet instead of looking at him. He’s known her for long enough to know she’s overthinking.

“Hey, look at me.” He slips his fingers beneath her chin, gently lifting her face to meet his concerned gaze. “What’s on your mind, darling?”

“I don’t-” She starts strong but stops suddenly, shifting anxiously. “I really don’t want this to be a one time thing, or - or just a way to blow off steam-”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, cradling her face and pressing a brief but searing kiss against her lips. She softens, melting into his touch.

“Good,” He murmurs as he pulls away, tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her a peck on the cheek like the one she’d given him the night before, “because I don’t think I can survive another day of not being able to kiss you.”

George chooses that moment to begin his ascent of the stairs. They break away from each other, struggling to make themselves presentable before he makes it to the landing. Anthony rushes to grab a shirt from the foot of the bed, throwing it over his head haphazardly She squeaks when she finds the zipper of his hoodie down to her navel, shooting him a teasingly chastising look when he snickers and crosses past her to greet their researcher in the hall, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. She yanks the zip as high as it will go, trying to smooth her own hair as she approaches the bookshelf and grabs something at random. She throws herself into the armchair in the corner of his room just in time, flipping the book open to roughly the halfway point and staring intently at the page as George reaches the top step.

“Good morning!” Anthony greets him far too cheerfully, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to obscure the other man’s view of his room.

“...Morning.” George replies, not even trying to disguise his attempts to peer around his boss. “How’d it go last night?”

“Um - fine! Yeah, just fine. Perfectly fine. Everything is… fine.” She closes her eyes, letting out a slow quiet sigh at his obvious nerves.

Adjusting the book to make sure it’s in his line of sight, she grits her teeth and bites the bullet. “Morning, Georgie!”

Lockwood looks over his shoulder at her in alarm, but at her reassuring nod he steps hesitantly out of the way so she’s in clear view.

George inspects her with narrowed eyes. “You are significantly less hungover than I’d expected.”

She winces, not able to fault him in the slightest for the disappointment in his voice. “Yeah, pretty sure it just hasn’t hit me yet. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again, Scouts Honour.”

“Why are you in Lockwood’s room?” His brow furrows almost imperceptibly.

She doesn’t miss a beat. “I was so drunk last night he was worried I was going to fall asleep on my back and choke on my own vomit, so he made me sleep in this ridiculously uncomfortable chair.”

Both men fix their eyes on her. Anthony looks horrified, while George looks strangely impressed. The bespectacled man studies her for another moment and she holds her breath, hoping he’d bought it. Shrugging a ‘fair enough’, he bids them a temporary farewell and walks into his own room, closing the door behind him.

She huffs a sigh of relief, closing her eyes and slumping back in the chair as the tension drains from her body. When she cracks an eye a few long moments later, Anthony is still standing in the doorway with the same look of horror plastered across his face.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, worry laced in every syllable.

“I didn’t even think of that! I could have let you die!” He seethes, throwing his hands up in annoyance at himself.

She has to fight the urge to laugh at him, focusing instead on gathering her strength to stand and walk over to take his hands in her own.

“I appreciate the concern, my love, but I wasn’t that drunk by the time you got me home.” She smiles fondly at him, lifting his hands to press soft kisses to each knuckle. When she glances up at him even his ears are flushed pink, looking at her with a lovesick smile.

“Call me that again?” He implores, pulling her against him.

With a quiet laugh, she drapes her arms over his shoulders before replying. “My love.”

They lose themselves in each other for another several minutes, only parting grudgingly at the rumble of his stomach and the threat of another interruption.

George waits until later that morning when Lucy, Kipps, and Holly have joined them and they’re all in the kitchen eating breakfast to comment on Anthony’s inside out shirt, and how impressed he is that the sixth member of their agency has learned to read upside down. As Lucy slowly turns to look at them, eyes wide and jaw seemingly aiming to touch the floor, Anthony lets the red-faced young woman beside him hide her blush in his shoulder. For some reason, he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed. Grinning proudly, he winks at the Listener, causing her to shriek loudly and demand to know the full story.

When his girlfriend looks up to shoot him a warning look, he mimics zipping his lips. “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Luce.”

Lucy’s demands are finally met five years later when James taps the side of his champagne flute with his knife, drawing the attention of the room full of guests to tell his favourite story about the bride and groom.

⤛⊹ 𝔣𝔦𝔫 ⊹⤜

taglist: @tessas4 @chloejaniceeee @shakespearseclipse @ettadear @kassandra1000

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔱𝔞𝔭 [𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢]

#aislin writes #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #x reader #reader insert #x female reader

172 notes · View notes

1lenii · 10 months

Text

FAOTP, FaceTime!

E42!Miles x F!Reader

Basically what the title says

Falling asleep on the phone with Miles(works for both miles, I’m not picky 🥰

PLEASE TELL ME YA SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE PICTURE 🙏🏽 and maybe in the fic itself;)

I present the inspiration for this fic!!

Enjoy loves⭐️

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

“Cmon Ma, I promise it’ll be fun”

(Y/N) listens to Miles beg for the one chance opportunity as well as hearing the aggressive pressing of buttons on the controller he was holding.

Falling asleep on call.

(Y/N) isn’t opposed to the idea, if anything she’s all for it. Except for one factor.. Miles snores and more often then not when he’s over it disturbs (Y/N) beauty sleep.

“Miles..no”

Still considering the idea (Y/N) responds nonetheless

“Why~?”

“Cause you snore.. like really loud”

“Nuh uh, do not”

“Do too, I’ll tell you what. You get what you want if we make a deal”

Miles eyes her through his screen skeptical. Now twisting his off his headset and untangling the wire from from one of his twin braids shaking it loose, taking the phone which was propped up on the console.

“‘Nd that would be?”

“Cant flake out on our study dates”

“Pero ma eso no—”

“No buts. We’ve been over this” (Y/N) cuts him off with a click of her tongue

“Fine princesa, You have a deal” he smirks at the screen already getting ready to head to his bed

(Y/N) doing the same.

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

(Y/N) was dosing off as Miles passionately expresses about his art, and graphite and how he almost got caught cause his dad wasn’t in duty, instead was at a trip with his mom to San Juan. (🇵🇷)

Miles noticed this

“Hey mami”

(Y/N) takes a few seconds to process with her tired mind and responds with a faint ‘mhm’

“You tired?”

“No no not At all keep going, I enjoy your rambling”

(Y/N) tries to open her eyes completely, even with her futile attempt they go back to the siren shape from when she tired. Miles took a quick screen shot, one where (Y/N) did not notice.

Miles stopped for second to take in the sight of his lover. Shoulder cover in a thick warm comforter, the squeezed peluche under her hold peaking out from between her phone and the herself. And the faint light of her skin glowing in oppose to the light the is emiting

Right when Miles is about to continue his story he hears soft snores. Softly smiling to himself as he watches you sleep.

(I would assume due to Spiderman/prowler duties he doesn’t get much sleep so he’s able to stay up late)

Miles enjoys the moment as an idea pops into his head. He slowly shuffles to grab his phone pressing the + volume and turn off button and starts spamming screenshots of (Y/N) sleeping face to later set as a his Lock Screen.

Sooner or later Miles dozes off muting himself for the upcoming alarm in the morning set for 8:00 am (hate the am like not even tryna quote hobie anymore in really hate waking up early)

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

Miles wakes up gets ready to head out, and do his Mile errands while also stopping by (Y/N) dorm delivering her groceries as she usually forgets leaving her to crash at his due to the lack of snacks and food.

He inserts the keycard to enter, now leaving the groceries on the counter as well as his phone and keys to find (Y/N) now exiting her room.

“Goodmorning princess”

“Morning” (Y/N) strutted over to the counter sliding Miles phone from it previous spout while Miles puts away the groceries he got earlier.

“Miles. Que diablo is this.”

“What? You want me to leave my girl starving?”

Miles looks over his shoulder knowing that’s not what his lover meant, just to see (Y/N) on his phone.

Opening the phone with her Face ID, she’s stares wide eyed at the phone, a picture taken back when she was barely awake last night

“Last time falling asleep on the phone with you Morales”

(Y/N) hops outta her seat at the counter heading back to her room, mumbling a bunch of i hate you’s and never again’a

Miles closes the cabinet laughing while trailing after his girlfriend

The phone all forgotten about.

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

560 notes · View notes

cherrypeaking · 1 year

Text

cushions (taehyun x fem!reader smut)

part 2 👉 strawberries

wc: 5k words

summary: it is when your boyfriend who’s so adamant on being the big spoon, asks if he can try it the other way around, that he realizes he’s been missing out on your boobs. you two haven’t had much time to yourselves because he’s so busy… but he will surely make up for it. <3

warnings: dom!taehyun, noona!reader, uses she/her pronouns and has boobs big enough to give him a titjob, taehyun calls you noona and princess, taehyun has a full blown boob fetish, body worship?? boob worship?? perv!taehyun, semi(?)public sexual acts, fem oral receiving, titjob

a/n: idk what came over me and why it’s so damn long i hope you all won’t be bored at least the moodboard is funny to look at LOL i just wanted some boob tyun lover fic :((

“I’m so sleepy…” Taehyun sighed out, sitting down on his side of the edge of the bed.

Work had been particularly draining, and despite being a night owl, tonight he felt as if he would merely need to get himself under the blanket to be knocked out.

You tilted your head to look at your boyfriend, who was yawning, fully ready to fall into the arms of Morpheus.

“Then, please, go to sleep sweetheart.” you gently advised him.

Taehyun smiled, already feeling relief, because he knew he could count on you as you would most probably stay up till later.

You both laid on your sides, facing each other. The gap between your bodies shrank more and more as you two hugged tight. Taehyun hummed, feeling satisfied with solely having you there with him.

It was usually after a couple of kisses and cuddles that you instinctively lowered yourself, to have your face rest against his toned chest.

“Y/N…” His voice stopped you right on your tracks. “I want to be the little spoon tonight…” he added, making your heart flutter.

You had suggested it to him on several occasions, but assumed that it was just not what he was interested in. He never took you up on the offer after all and your sleeping positions simply remained the same – not that you were complaining though.

One of your hands reached for his head, gently petting his hair and disheveling it a little.

“What are you waiting for my love?” you teased him, hearing an obvious gulp from him.

You peered at how he gradually slid down, until the bridge of his nose was facing your breasts. A small gasp escaped your lips, feeling warmth within your thorax as your heartbeat quickened with excitement.

Taehyun let his left cheek rest on where your cleavage would be if you were wearing a bra under your nightgown.

As soon as you saw how peaceful he looked, you went back to caressing his hair, wanting to help him drift to sleep.

“So comfy…” he whispered and you almost didn’t hear him, except he yawned right after, giving himself away.

You let out a little chuckle, hissing as you felt him tilt his head, fully facing your breasts now.

“Noona… I love you…” he mumbled, but his voice was muffled because he was quite literally speaking into your boobs.

You still understood what he meant and smiled at him dearly, even though he was already closing his eyes, thus could not see you anymore.

“I love you too, Taehyun… sweet dreams my love…” and with those words, Taehyun was out cold.

The alarm from Taehyun’s cell phone made its way into your ears, increasing in volume within seconds.

Your eyes opened, noticing your boyfriend’s messy hair situated right in front of your chest.

“Baby? Baby…” you placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to lightly shake him awake.

It wasn’t as if Taehyun didn’t look adorable, peacefully sleeping on your breasts, but only he could turn off his alarm…

“Hm? Oh… my love…” he seemed to have woken up, but looked way too comfortable to even lift a finger. Perhaps he hadn’t even heard his alarm going off.

You tried gently pulling him away from you, except the more you tried, the tighter his embrace was.

“Taehyun… please just turn off your alarm…” you pleaded him, giving up your struggle.

The said boy hummed, sounding a little confused. He obviously wasn’t willing to budge even a bit.

You scoffed, trying to extend your arm, wanting to reach his night table. In the end, you did it – you tapped on Taehyun’s phone’s screen.

“Phew… sheesh, Taehyun!” you sighed, feeling relieved that the tune was finally gone.

When he heard you say his name in such a frustrated way, Taehyun inclined his head to face you upwards, with the biggest doe eyes he had ever given you. Interestingly enough, he never pulled away, his nose still very much buried in the crevice of your breasts.

You furrowed your eyebrows and pouted, not being able to be irritated when he was just… looking like the sweetest boy ever.

“Baby… you have to go to work…” you tried reasoning with him, even though he seemed so cozy.

Who would’ve thought he would enjoy being in your arms so much that he wouldn’t want to let go of you?

Taehyun sighed, sending a shiver down your spine, because you felt his breath directly into your boobs.

“You’re right. I was just so comfy…” he purred out, slowly and half heartedly pulling himself away from you.

You smiled, seeing your adorable – still sleepy – boyfriend stretch as a little kitten would.

“I’ll be waiting for you at home, my sweetheart.” you asserted, making him return your smile.

After he had breakfast, Taehyun got himself ready to go to work for the rest of the day.

“See you later, noona.” the younger planted a peck on your cheek, which freed butterflies inside your tummy.

You giggled, leaning in to softly kiss his nose.

“See you later, dear.” you responded, pouting a little when he disappeared as you closed the door he walked out from.

Not having your boyfriend around wasn’t something you weren’t accustomed to, especially during your days off, because Taehyun had draining schedules. It obviously didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him, but you had managed to find activities for yourself to kill time.

You decided to get in the bathroom for a bubble bath, before doing anything of your day.

As you undressed, the reflection of your nude figure in the mirror caught your attention. Your gaze shifted from your face, to your body – stopping at your breasts.

You couldn’t forget the sight of Taehyun’s face, buried in your chest. It made you smile, you were feeling so much love for him. Hopefully, he would want to be the little spoon more often from then on.

Seems like he liked having his face in my tits…

You giggled, turning on the faucet to let water run down the tub.

After your bath, you dressed yourself back up, then walked into the kitchen to check what time it was.

11:30AM, noon is coming soon. Hmm…

Considering you were home alone, you reckoned you had more than enough time to cook a nice lunch for yourself. You went through all the ingredients in the kitchen’s cupboards, wondering what you would want to eat, until a bell rang in your head.

“I should try to cook Taehyun something for when he gets back…” you told yourself, happily imagining his reaction.

Taehyun was the better cook between the two of you, so you hadn’t really dared cooking him anything before. But especially after this morning, you wanted to specially treat him. He was such a hardworking man, plus you two barely had time to yourselves together because of his schedules.

In the end, you chose to bake him a little dessert, perfect for a treat in the evening.

Once you were done with your lunch, you grabbed Taehyun’s apron hanging on the handle of the kitchen’s door and tied it around your waist, feeling determined as ever to surprise your boyfriend.

You were so immersed in your cooking and getting the right ingredients in the correct amounts, that you didn’t expect to hear the dinging sound from your phone.

“I miss you :(“ Taehyun’s name popping up in your notifications made your eyes sparkle with joy.

Taehyun never struck anyone as a clingy person, except to five people – his friends, and you. You giggled, sensing that he was specifically more engaged in talking with you while he was at work than usual.

Ultimately, you decided to send him a selfie of you, just sporting his apron and smiling, with the caption reading ‘Guess what I’m doing baby ;)’

“Woah… noona… have fun cooking! I’m so lucky… We should cook together sometime when I’m free!” His answer made you feel giddy.

As you thanked him immediately through text, you got back to where you were on your recipe.

Seconds, minutes passed by… and you weren’t hearing any more notification from your phone. You were a bit surprised, but assumed Taehyun got busy again.

“Fuck…” Taehyun guiltily moved his left hand up and down, his fingers desperately wrapped around his dick.

He had locked himself in his office during lunch break, right after his conversation with you. Taehyun didn’t really understand what came over him when he saw your selfie.

Usually, he would simply praise your beauty and energy, smile at the picture to get him through the day in a good mood.

However, last night seemed to have changed him – woken something up inside of him.

There he was then, at his desk, his cock in one hand, his cell phone in the other, so he could keep his eyes glued to your selfie.

“Ah… fuck…” his ears were reddening, because he knew exactly where he was looking.

He wasn’t one to shy away, but when it came to you, particularly since you two had hardly had enough quality time together, he was feeling bashful.

Moreover if he was jerking off while staying fixated on your breasts. He let his thumb and index finger work on his phone screen to zoom in on your selfie and have a better look at your chest, although covered by the apron.

“S-shit…!” he groaned, his blood rushing to his cheeks, adding a pretty blush to them, as they were starting to get flushed.

Taehyun couldn’t help making the most obscene noises in his office, he had so much pent up energy, coming from having too few opportunities to touch you in the past months.

Your selfie… Taehyun could only assume you wouldn’t consider it anything special or revealing, hence why he felt almost ashamed for getting horny from it.

But your breasts… their softness that he could still reminisce from last night, their curves that he could witness on your selfie, under the apron, all of it was clouding his already aroused mind.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, he loved every part of you, whether it was your body or your personality.

What the fuck am I doing? I’m going insane…

Despite that, his grip on his dick tightened and he picked up the pace, pumping his arousal up and down. He was feeling so desperate that, not only did he keep looking at your picture but fantasies also started playing in his mind.

You would both be back home from work, and he imagined peeking in on you as you were changing to your nightgown. Except he would get caught.

“Taehyun! Come on out, I saw you, perv!” you’d exclaim, trying to cover your chest by folding your arms against it.

Being called that name by you made him shiver. His mouth opened into a smirk, pulling out his tongue to pant with shameful pleasure.

“I couldn’t help myself noona… your body is amazing…” he’d retort, looking you up and down, drool pooling out of his mouth.

He’d push you onto your bed, looking directly at your breasts.

Taehyun looked down, and caught the collar of his shirt with his teeth, imagining he was sucking your nipple.

“I-I didn’t know you liked my tits so much…” you’d whimper to the feeling of his kisses on your chest.

He sucked on the cloth in his mouth as hard as he could, letting out muffled groans because he could feel himself reach his climax soon.

“I do, they drive me crazy noona…” he’d mouth out, spitting on one of your boobs to get it wet.

Your flushed, timid, face with your hardening nipples right in front of him was an image that drove him wild – to the edge.

“Y/N…!” His lips released the – now – damp collar as he threw his head backwards, cumming into his hand with a whimper of your name.

It took him several minutes to get back down from his high and he was completely spent. When he did, Taehyun hurried over to the nearest bathroom to clean himself.

“Ta-da!” you rejoiced as you opened the oven, taking out the first part of your strawberry pie.

You proudly noticed the mold had fully shaped the crust into a beautiful form. You put it on the table, next to a bowl, full of fresh strawberries.

When you were about to spread the sugary cream mix in your pie, the sound of your phone ringing startled you.

“I’ll be home in 30 minutes, noona. Can’t wait to see you.” Taehyun’s message surprised you.

Has he gotten off work early?

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. You just wanted to make sure your pie would be done before he would arrive.

“Gotta pick up the pace!” you told yourself, enthusiastically. Seeing your boyfriend happy to eat something you’d baked him was enough to spur you on.

Since you were in a hurry, your gaze swiftly darted towards the clock to check the time.

4PM… Okay, Taehyun will be back at 4:30PM… Let’s go!

With a motivated smile, you pleasantly hummed to your favorite tune and went back to cooking.

The sound of keys unlocking the door came sooner than later. You jumped a little and retracted your arms from the pie, who was well done, right on time. You were so excited and satisfied, Taehyun just needed to taste it to tell you if it were good and you would be fully content.

“Y/N! I’m home!” Taehyun called out for you and you didn’t need to be told twice.

You hurried over to the door to greet your boyfriend, by jumping into his arms for an embrace. You had missed him more than you wanted to admit, so feeling him close to you again that early made you feel so much joy.

When you felt Taehyun’s lips on your left ear, your breath hitched in surprise.

“Still wearing my apron noona? Looking all pretty just for me, when I get home?” he teasingly whispered and you immediately understood what kind of mood he was in.

Taehyun’s hands left your back to trail across your sides.

“Baby…” you shivered when he planted a kiss on your ear, slightly suckling the skin while he was at it.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, it had been too long without touching him. You pushed him against the door, slamming it shut.

“Seems like you’re needy for me too, hm? Noona?” he purred, making you look up at him.

It was when you realized he wasn’t really looking you in the eyes.

Just below.

Your cheeks heated up in arousal, before leaning in to kiss him passionately.

Taehyun growled against your lips, already wanting access to your mouth, which you granted him quickly.

“Missed you…so much…” you whispered, as your boyfriend tickled your lower lip with his tongue.

Eventually, his hands fell down to your thighs, applying pressure to carry you. You let out a squeak when you were up and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Both of you were so needy for each other that it didn’t take long for you to reach the bedroom, which was when Taehyun let you fall onto the mattress.

“Fuck… I’ve been dreaming of a moment like this…” he said, hovering over you, scrutinizing your body, and again, you could tell where his attention was drawn towards.

It only made you feel warmer inside.

“Just us… tonight… right, noona?” Taehyun added, a grin creeping up on his face as he leant down, only to whisper into your ear, “... or should I say princess?”

The princess petname… it always worked on you like a secret weapon.

It made your legs tremble and that didn’t stop when he chuckled, gesturing you to get on your side so he could untie the apron and rid you of it. You were left in a sports bra and a pair of shorts.

Your boyfriend gasped, narrowing his glazed over eyes.

“Fuck, princess… I can’t believe it’s been so long… I’ll make it up to you… to us.” he said, leaning down to steal another deep kiss from you. But you could feel his fingers pulling at your bra. He wanted that thing off of you.

“Baby…” you moaned out, between two kisses, helping him remove your top.

The sparkles in his eyes were priceless to see when the material fell off your chest. Taehyun licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to start feasting on your breasts right away.

His hands reached for your boobs, as he continued kissing you all over your face. It was impossible to stay quiet, you wanted to touch him so bad as well.

“Taehyun… please… Can I touch you too?” you needily asked, only to be met with silence. Your boyfriend just continued kissing you, dragging his lips over your jaw, down to your neck.

You inclined your head to expose your skin more, shivering when Taehyun started dragging his pointy canines across your collarbones.

“Will noona let me suck her tits?” his sudden question was asked in the loveliest tone, it took you off guard. You nodded, feeling too shy to actually reply.

Taehyun tsked, getting ahold of one of your breasts, squeezing it harder than before. You yelped, bucking your hips up.

“No, princess. I want you to use your words.” he commanded, and to make sure he got his point across, he looked you in the eyes, frowning a little.

You wanted to turn away, but his gaze was too hypnotizing.

“Please suck my… tits, please baby…” you shyly pleaded him, and he immediately complied, diving in head first to catch one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Shit! Taehyun!” you weren’t used to having his mouth there, at least not if he were suckling so hard.

It was difficult to contain your moans, because while Taehyun’s mouth was fixated on your right boob, he was pinching your left nipple, to make it harden.

“I-I… you were really needy today hm?” you breathed out, turning Taehyun on more.

That made him want to quick things up a little, so he removed his hand from your nipple, still suckling the other one.

When you felt his fingers rub your clit through your panties, your breath was as if caught in your throat.

“Oh… gosh…” you sighed, moving your hips to meet his fingers.

Taehyun’s fingers skillfully got inside of your underwear to prob at your entrance.

“Princess… are you liking this?” he asked, setting your right nipple free from his mouth a little to lick the curve of your breast.

The vision felt like a mirage, Taehyun’s eyes were shining with lust, sweaty strands of hair glued to his forehead.

“Yes… yes baby… you love my boobs that much- ah!?” but he didn’t seem to like your teasing that much as he inserted one finger into your vagina.

“I do, princess… they drive me fucking crazy…” he answered, swiftly tilting his head so he could begin licking your other breast.

“Hmm…” his moans against your skin were sending vibrations down your spine, which only added to the pleasure you were feeling from his finger inside you.

Soon enough, he added another finger, then a third one and thrust them all in and out of you, repeatedly.

You threw your head back, only to feel him suckle on your boob harder.

“T-Taehyun… I’m going… to cum like this… if you… keep going…” you whined, which made him retrieve a little. He pulled his fingers out of you as well.

Both of you noticed the red spots on your breasts and gasped.

“Woah… sorry, princess. I really couldn’t help myself…” Taehyun mumbled, giving you an apologetic look.

“It’s okay… I guess it just shows how much you love my boobs hm?” you cooed, spreading your legs a little.

You were hoping you two would finally get to fuck as you needed to feel him too.

“I do.” He simply replied, giving each tit one last kiss before he lowered himself, keeping his hands on your boobs.

“Taehyun? What are you doing?” you asked him, not knowing why he wasn’t undressing yet.

“Just showing you how much I love your tits baby.”

But your question was actually answered as you felt him suddenly lap at your clit through your panties.

“O-oh…” you moaned, because not only was he licking you, his hands were still holding onto your boobs for dear life.

Taehyun was licking your pussy through your underwear so much that they became completely soaked, and he could see your juices starting to show on your inner thighs.

“Princess, play with your tits for me will you?” he randomly asked you, removing his hands from your breasts.

“Why?” Taehyun didn’t answer right away, and instead used his hands to pull the fabric of your panties away so he could see your pussy.

“Because I can’t do it right now…” you let out a chuckle, complying even if the request seemed silly to you.

You started massaging your breasts, right in front of your boyfriend, who kept a sharp gaze on you, while he kissed your outer lips.

It was a bit unusual, but given how excited Taehyun was — he was licking you so eagerly — you continued.

“Fuck… you’re so sexy. It’s like your body was created to make me crazy.” His words were sending jolts through your core, encouraging you to play with your boobs more.

Taehyun buried his face into your pussy, letting his tongue enter you as his nose bumped on your clit. He could tell you were close because you were drenched down there. Your taste was making his own arousal too painful to keep ignoring.

Since he was on his knees, the younger tried grinding onto the floor to feel some sort of relief as well, his tongue still working to pleasure your core. He gave you another look, loving to see you pinching your nipples.

“I know… exactly what we’re gonna do after I make you cum princess…” he said, but you didn’t really understand him. His voice was muffled by your pussy lips and you were moaning too much to even acknowledge that he had spoken.

You started unconsciously bucking your hips up, wanting to push Taehyun’s face in your cunt but your hands were already occupied.

That only made the boy rub himself against the floor harder, panting into your pussy at the same time.

“B-baby… you make me feel so good…” you whimpered, as you felt the familiar warmth building into your stomach.

Your moans were getting louder, spurring Taehyun on further. He wanted to see how you looked when you came, while playing with your tits.

The boy kept a close eye on you, lapping at your core without stopping — he could tell you were just about to cum.

“Taehyun…!” you cried out, arching your back in pleasure while experiencing your high. Taehyun simply licked all of your juices away, letting nothing go to waste.

You sighed out, trying to come back down to earth. You almost didn’t notice that Taehyun had gotten on top of you again.

“Princess… it’s my turn now…” you were still lost in your own world, the fact your boyfriend was unbuttoning his pants in front of you went way over your head.

Taehyun realized you weren’t fully there yet and decided to wait a little. When he was about to start jerking himself off, you spoke up.

“Baby? Don’t you want me to return the favor?” you innocently asked, not expecting him to smirk and tell you to simply lay down.

Firstly, he straddled you, getting ahold of your breasts again. Your breath hitched as you figured where this was going.

“I want to use your tits to cum, noona. Can I?” your cheeks heated up because he was back to sounding adorable, while doing the filthiest shit you’d ever done with him.

You smiled at him before nodding, he didn’t need anything else to get his hard cock between your boobs.

“Use my boobs all you want sweetheart.” you softly whispered as you saw his dick twitching from your words.

“Y/N…! It feels so… soft…” he whined, pushing your breasts together to squeeze his cock in.

Taehyun lifted himself up by getting on his knees and started thrusting repeatedly, relishing in the sensations of your boobs around his dick.

You looked up at him and shivered at how affected he was. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, his sweat ran from his face down to his neck and shirt. His hair looked like a hot mess.

“Y/N…” he couldn’t really articulate anything other than that, Taehyun was panting from pleasure, just trying to find release.

When you looked to your height level, you could see his tip appear then disappear into the crevice of your breasts being pressed together.

“I’m… so close… fuck it’s been so long…” Taehyun moaned out, his gaze focusing on how peaceful you looked despite getting your tits fucked by him.

A part of you wanted to tease him one last time, so when the tip of his cock was the closest to your mouth, you pulled your tongue out to give it a kitten lick.

“Hehe.~” you giggled, as your boyfriend arched his back, feeling that he was cumming.

“Y/N…!” he groaned, his dick spurted ropes of cum onto your boobs and face.

Taehyun kept thrusting messily to ride out his orgasm, but his hold on your breasts had definitely loosened.

He then let himself fall limp on the bed, needing time to get air back into his lungs.

“Baby…” you murmured to him, wondering if he was okay after such a strong climax.

Thankfully, your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you and smile.

“Noona…” your heart fluttered at how sweet he sounded. You could tell he had set a lot of pent up frustrations free — and so did you.

What you didn’t expect was for Taehyun to start dragging his pretty fingers over your torso.

“What are you doing Taehyun?” you asked but were met with no response so you kept observing him.

Then you saw he was simply scooping up all of his cum that had landed on your tits. You kept looking at his beautiful hand, not too small, not too big… and what always amazed you about it was how veiny it was.

“Here princess, have a taste for me.” Taehyun snapped you out of your reverie, wanting you to open your mouth to welcome two of his fingers. You eagerly obliged, dragging your tongue all over his fingers, tasting his cum at every lick.

“Good girl, licking me off clean.” Taehyun praised you, his eyes beginning to shine again, but this time due to adoration.

After a couple more swallows, Taehyun removed his fingers from your mouth.

Neither of you truly wanted to let go of the other, but you both knew it was time to clean up.

Besides, you really wanted to show Taehyun your strawberry pie.

“Noona! Woah… I thought I was the only one who knew how to cook!” Taehyun exclaimed, placing his hands on his sides.

You giggled, getting the pie out of the mold, so that your boyfriend could finally tell you if it was a success or a failure.

“Well, you cook so good! I was a bit scared to try and cook something for you too… but I had lots of time today so…” you replied, placing the small dessert onto a plate and handing it to Taehyun.

The latter licked his lips, being full of appetite.

“Let’s see, I hope I won’t die.” Taehyun joked while he got himself a spoonful of pie.

You flicked your tongue against your palate in slight annoyance. Your boyfriend loved picking on you for fun, except now was not the time.

What if he doesn’t like it?

“Eat my pussy.” you replied, scrunching your nose up.

“Already done that.” he purred, while you stuck your tongue out like a child.

In the end, Taehyun put the spoon in his mouth and started chewing. He nodded to himself first, before turning his head to you.

“It’s good! Really good actually!” He said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

You squealed, feeling so proud of yourself.

“It’s perfect for summer right? I was hesitating between this and a brownie…” you told him, earning a knowing look from Taehyun.

You knew that look.

“Since it’s going to be summer by the way…” He began, making you scoot closer to him, a little worried to hear the rest. “Can I be the little spoon again?”

“What is the correlation? Why, of course my baby can be the little spoon!” you replied, taking his hands into yours, but he shyly looked away.

“But… you do remember we sleep naked during summer…” your eyes widened at the realization.

“Kang Taehyun!”

“T-Taehyun… you… you’re so good…” you whined out, feeling your boyfriend’s cock pummeling your pussy after so long again.

Said boy was thrusting into you, while on top of you. You were so lost in your own pleasure you didn’t notice until you opened your eyes back up, that Taehyun wasn’t really even looking you in the eyes.

Just below.

“Princess…” he groaned as he kept fucking you desperately looking at your bouncing tits.

“T-Taehyun… you… Perv!” you exclaimed, but really couldn’t care less actually.

Knowing your boyfriend was getting off because of you — and your boobs — was everything.

“Sorry noona… I can’t help myself…” you could feel his dick twitching just from being called out. The redness in his ears was giving him away too.

He loved it.

#taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #txt x you #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #taehyun x you #taehyun x reader

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underoossss · 10 months

Text

What If’s -Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for across the spiderverse!!!! a couple of vampire jokes here and there. kissing, yearning, idk if those are warnings.

an: there’s no better character than miguel to write a wholesome hurt/comfort friends to lovers fic. this is my first time writing for him and I hope I did a good job lmao. let me know how I did!

★★★★

“I know I said I don’t mind your company.” Miguel’s voice reaches you from the platform he’s perched on in the middle of his lab. “But do you have to turn the volume up so loud?”

Your laugh echoes the room as you press a button twice to decrease the volume for a moment. “It helps me focus. Some of us have jobs aside from being a superhero you know.”

“Oh is saving the world not enough of a job for you?” Miguel’s eye-roll is clear in his tone and it makes you smile. “Perhaps you don’t know it but here we’re trying—”

“I know, I know, Twilight.” You wave him off over your shoulder. “What I mean is I like having a job, and I’m super smart so they let me work remotely.”

“All spider people are ‘super smart’ as you put it.” Miguel says, from somewhere behind you as you tap away on your laptop.

“Huh,” You fake surprise, then speak through a grin. “Here I thought I was the only one, good to know you’ve got a brain behind your broody eyes.”

Miguel’s breathy chuckle makes your heart jump, and you turn on your seat to catch the corner of his mouth lift in a half smile. Going back to the report you have to finish for your regular job, you turn the music up again and rest your feet on the desk in front of you. “I can feel you judging me, Twilight.”

“I am.” Miguel calls back to you and you smile.

There’s nothing that makes your body fill with warmth like Miguel. From being his most annoying spider recruit since the day you met —you saw he had fangs, and he never lived the vampire jokes down— your relationship has blossomed into a beautiful friendship over time. The kind of friendship where everything is easy around each other, where you anticipate the other’s needs, and the kind that started with sharing trauma. Both of you’ve lost many people, and it’s probably the reason why you cling to the other as much as you do. You’re a stubborn tangle in his hair and he's as present in your life as the breeze that hits your face when you’re swinging through the city. You bring out the best in each other —regardless of you annoying him every single day— and this deep connection you seem to have is most likely the one responsible for the lines between friendship and love to be so blurred between you. You’ve fought by his side multiple times, and you love it, but there’s nothing you love more than these quiet moments with him, where you just exist near each other, and everything feels right. Though you love seeing him in action, more often than not getting distracted by his ruthlessness, strength, and skill, you love doing simple things with him too. Miguel showing up to your place when you’re cooking dinner and refusing to dance along with you; Miguel getting coffee with you after much insistence to leave his desk; Miguel sighing at your bad jokes which only makes you laugh more; Miguel staying over at your place, his presence a warm reassurance that you’re safe.

Insistent pinging takes your mind away from its memories, and you’re quick to set your work aside and swing to the platform to see what’s going on. Lila has appeared over Miguel’s shoulder and is gesturing at the many alarms popping up on the yellow screens. A canonic event has been interrupted, a black hole has opened under the city of Mumbattan on earth 50101, Miles Morales —the Spider-Man Miguel’s been keeping tabs on for a while— is in that dimension for some reason, and there’s a multiverse-jumping anomaly on the loose.

Miguel’s face darkens, a mix of worry, fury, and tiredness forcing his features down into a deep frown. He pinches the bridge of his nose before talking to Lyla as he flips through the screens. “Tell Jessica to go to Earth 50101 and bring backup with her. We need to contain that black hole.”

“On it.” Lyla disappears for a moment before she’s back by Miguel’s side. “What else?”

“Bring Miles Morales to me.” He says, setting his hands on the table in front of him and looking at the screen that show’s Miles stopping the canonic event. “It’s time we stop this mess at its source.”

“Miguel?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, worry settling on your chest. “What do you mean?”

Lyla disappears a moment later as Miguel’s monitors keep flipping through the events in Mumbattan. Alchemax blowing up as a result of the anomaly calling itself the Spot turning on the supercollider. The building collapsing on itself.

“You know what I mean.” The man in front of you furrows his brows in anger. “He’s become a threat since the moment he was bitten. It was never even supposed to happen, you can’t expect me to let him go on like this. To keep disregarding canon as much as he pleases.”

“You know I’ve always supported you, Miguel.” You take his hand in both of yours and squeeze it tightly. “I’m the one backing you up, winning everyone over when they get mad at you… But this is wrong.”

“It’s not.” He says, taking his hand back from you and clicking away on his computer. A moment later, moments in Miles Morales’ life float in the screens around you. “We have to stop him. He’s going to undo everything we do if not.”

“Miguel,” You furrow your brows at his words, then gesture towards him with your arms. “Listen to yourself, who’s more out of canon here, him or us? We weren’t bitten, that’s strike one; we can’t stick to walls, strike two; you don’t shoot webs and my senses aren’t heightened like everyone else’s. That’s strike three.”

It’s something that’s always intrigued you, but it’s never made you think of yourself or Miguel as less of a Spiderman than everyone else. That’s not what wearing the mask means; it means protecting those who can’t protect themselves. To be selfless and kind and self-sacrificing for the world, even if no one says thank you. If Miguel and yourself haven’t broken the multiverse just by existing, then why would Miles. If his world hasn’t collapsed then there’s nothing wrong with him being the superhero that he is.

Miguel ponders your words but shakes his head, still adamant to see things your way in this matter. “The kid–”

You take a step closer to him and cut him off before he can continue. “The kid was bitten, regardless of it being supposed to happen or not! He has lost someone dear already and has basically followed every other spiderman rule, Miguel. I don’t think he’s the reason this is happening.”

Your friend, the object of your affections, turns his back towards you, going back to his screens. They show the events of Mumbattan now, the way Miles saved the captain and the little girl from being crushed by falling debris. There’s also the black hole in the city, threatening the people they tried so hard to save. The hole is so similar to the Spot’s that you’re sure an analysis would prove it right. But Miguel isn’t seeing reason. “He is.”

“It’s the Spot’s fault!” You raise your voice, frustration getting the best of you more a moment before you take a deep breath. Trying to see things from his perspective, you place a hand on his upper arm, your voice falling down to a reassuring whisper. “I know you’re scared of the world collapsing again, but it won’t.”

Your heart falls when he shrugs your hand off and turns to look at you. The many screens around you dance across his features, and after inhaling deeply Miguel speaks again. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” You smile sadly, hoping that your confidence in him will let him see what’s right under his nose. “I know it because this time you’re here, Miguel, guiding us and making sure it doesn’t happen again. You just need to see that Miles isn’t the problem.”

“Everything started with him.” Miguel argues, his voice emphasizing the word everything, definite on his theory. His eyes are full of resentment, not towards you, but towards the situation. Days and nights of working himself thin in this office, weighing on his broad shoulders.

Your squeeze your eyes shut before you look at him again. He’s so blinded by his own past mistakes; he thinks Miles will repeat them. When you speak again your voice is soft despite your irritation. “Miguel, you know in your heart it didn’t, and I know that because we’re the same.”

He exhales and looks into your eyes; they soften only slightly as they lock with yours. You try to urge him once again to forget this theory for a moment and see things differently if only for a second. He needs to know you don’t think it has to come to this –an attack towards the young spiderman– and that you won’t be a part of it if it does.

“If I feel it, then you must feel it too.” Though you’re talking about his plans for the young spiderman, the underlying topic of your feelings for him are clear as day in the way you look at him. You let your guard down, and say barely above a whisper, “Please. You know I can’t follow you, not this time.”

His eyes look aways from you as his shoulders tense, a clear sign of all the walls you’d crumbled building back up. “You want me to risk everything, including you, over a what-if?”

“Everything’s a what-if, Miguel.” You smile sadly at him, then set your shoulders straight as you step away from the platform and from him. “But I guess that settles that.”

Miguel takes two steps and catches up to you before he reaches for your hand. There’s a tightness around his brown eyes from the way you’re looking at him tearfully. They shift to confusion a moment later, when his hand moves upwards towards your wrist and you grin. Taking another step back, you hold your watch on your opposite hand, showing him that you knew he’d try to take it from you. You know him better than he gives you credit for.

“I’ll see you when you’ve changed your mind, Twilight.” You fiddle with your watch until a portal opens and when it does, you throw the device back at him. Though your throat is tight, emotion concentrating there as tears sting your eyes, you keep yourself from crying. “Otherwise… I guess this is goodbye.”

Not bearing to look into the new despair in his eyes, you turn around and walk into your dimension without looking back. When the portal closes behind you, you’re back in your apartment, the room dark around you safe for the lamp you forgot to turn off in the morning. Every corner you look at you see Miguel’s lingering shadow; the wall he always leaned against when you talked in the kitchen, the couch where the two of you always hung out –your legs over his lap and your laptop over yours as he waited for you to finish working. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping for some comfort to come from it.

Hoping this mess can be fixed.

It is only a day later when the first step towards it being resolved, happens. You’ve been swinging through the city, patrolling different neighborhoods and keeping an eye out for any anomalies. Without your watch you’ve been disconnected from the Spider Society. Most importantly from Miguel, and although you try to, you can’t help but wonder what’s happening back in the HQ. You've barely been to your apartment since your fight with Miguel, your heart feels like a fading bruise –not quite broken but yearning painfully– and the last thing you want to do is spend time somewhere that will bring his memory back to you. So quick stops to shower, work, and eat, in between patrols are all you’ve allowed yourself. You’re swinging to one of these stops, when you spot a lonely figure standing in your balcony.

Even from afar you know its him, no one else has his shoulder-to-waist ratio, and no one else makes your heart skip quite like he does. Despite being vexed from your last conversation, you feel his heart call out to yours, and the way his eyes rise to see you swing towards the balcony are all the confirmation that you need that your assumptions were right. He would come around eventually, you knew it, you never thought it would be this fast though. What have you done now, Miguel?

You land on the balcony next to him, nod towards your door so he can follow you inside. Once the door closes behind you, you take your mask off and Miguel’s vanishes too. There’s no awkwardness as you stand in front of each other in the middle of the living room, only silence in an otherwise joyful room. The lights are still off in your apartment but you don’t move to turn them on, instead you shrug and motion towards the balcony.

“Nice timing.” You say, trying to keep your voice light. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d see me when I changed my mind.” His voice is low, like he’s worried the moment will shatter if he speaks any louder.

“You did?” Your question is followed by a step closer to him, but a frown appears on your face. “What changed it?”

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” He whispers, brows furrowed together creating a deep crease between them. His eyes won’t meet yours but from the city lights outside your apartment, and the glow from his suit, you can see the deep regret in them, and the embarrassment from admitting his wrongs. “Then made a mess out of everything.”

“Miguel–”

“You can say I told you so, because you were right.” He turns to you, bringing his hand to hold your cheek briefly before he sighs and walks away, closer to the balcony’s window.

“What happened?” You follow him, standing next to him. Part of you is afraid he’s going to leave the same way he arrived, and panic settles on your chest. You urge him to keep talking though, you won’t give him a chance to shut down this time. “What happened with Miles?”

“The Spot’s stronger than before and going to Miles’ dimension to destroy it and then possibly many others.” Miguel clenches his hands into fists, the muscles around his neck tensing, the stress and worry in them is clear for you to see. “But he’s not there, because of me.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, a mannerism you’ve gotten from the man next to you. Of course he scared the kid off; you love this man more than anything, but he really needs to work on his first impressions. “Where is he? How can we find him?”

“I have an idea; I think his friends do too.” Miguel starts, then shakes his head, some strands of hair falling over his forehead. “Maybe the dimension of the spider that bit him is a good place to start.”

“Then we find him, Miguel.” You move to stand in front of him, your back to the window and the city, all your focus on him. “We find him, we bring him home, and we defeat the Spot.”

He nods almost imperceptibly his gaze in the distant glimmering buildings, his handsome yet tired features washed in light blue and purple light. You know he can feel your gaze on him, burning a hole on his face but his eyes won’t look away from the window. When he doesn’t give in a moment later, you bring both of your hands to his face. Half expecting him to move away, you’re surprised when he lets you, and a small breath escapes him at the contact.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You whisper, your thumbs moving softly over his cheekbones. “Everything will be alright; we can fix it.”

“I almost lost everything by trying to prevent it from happening again.” He confesses, eyes full of torment when they finally meet yours. They glisten in the light, worry and despair making his icy layers melt for you too see him clearly. It’s enough to make you tear up. When you try to say something, he cuts you off as if knowing what you’re about to say. “I almost lost you.”

You shake your head fervently. “You were never going to lose me, we’re best friends I don’t think we’re capable of losing each other.”

“We’re more than that.” He says, voice gentle as he takes your hands from his face and holds them in his, they dwarf yours in size. “I feel it too and I’m sorry if it’s too late.” His words echo back to your last conversation, and it makes your stomach flip. Finally, after so much time, your feelings are bare in front of each other. Precious jewels you would never trust to anyone else, both broken, both put back together, and perfect for the other.

“It’s not.” You shake your head and let go of his hands, moving them instead to rest on his shoulders. A smile makes its way to your face, and the way Miguel’s lips move to mirror it makes your heart soar.

A moment later his head is tipping downwards as you step on the tip of your toes to kiss him. It’s an electric moment, a canonic event itself with the way all the pieces seem to fall into place. You move your arms around Miguel’s shoulders and hitch yourself higher to wrap your legs around his waist. His approval is hummed into your mouth as his lips move ardently against yours. One of his arms goes around your waist while the other moves up your back to bury his hand in your hair, tipping your face in the perfect angle to kiss you into a blissful state. Your sighs are unstoppable and he’s more than happy to catch them with his lips as your hands move to his hair. This is all you’ve wanted, to have him completely, for the two of you to accept the feelings that have always been there.

Eventually your passionate kiss simmers down to something slower, calmer. Miguel’s lips brush yours softly; barely-there kisses that move to the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw. His voice is rough when he whispers against your lips in a gentleness he rarely shows, “I love you, I always have.”

“I love you, you broody, cheap Twilight vampire wannabe.” You murmur, brushing your nose against his as he chuckles under his breath, before he sets you down. “We should go.”

“Only if you want to.” Miguel tells you, holding out your watch on the palm of his hand.

You take it from him and put it on with a smile. “Please, you’d be lost without me.”

His hand cups your cheek for a moment, a soft smile just for you on his face as he says, voice low. “Right again.”

In front of you a new portal appears, back to Miguel’s office to round everybody up. The future might still be up in the air, and there might be many battles ahead before this multiversal conflict is solved. But one thing you know for sure is that with the right team, the impossible can happen. You’re sure Miles’ team has his back, but a little backup wouldn’t hurt them, would it?

You take Miguel’s hand and squeeze it in yours before walking backwards to the portal. “Come on Twilight, let’s help the kids save the world.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fluff #across the spider verse fanfic #spider man 2099

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pinkwright · 1 year

Text

baby, let me know if u wanna roll | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — panther!shuri x partygirl!y/n

trope — bestfriends 2 lovers

inspo — hip hop star by beyoncé feat. (big boi & sleepy brown)

warnings — fingering (both receiving), cunnilingus (reader receiving), possessive!shuri. enhanced!shuri as in the panther spirit inside her is almost personified (??) (idk how to describe it), confident reader, sub!reader, soft dom!shuri, handsy!shuri, overstimulation. dirty talk, humiliation kink, needy!shuri, jealous!shuri but literally so slight like just blink n you'll miss it, the alarm in the beginning is an alarm for five mins before midnight, n yeah.

a/n — if theres errors thats my bad, hope u enjoy ! <3

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn

ஜ

bad boots on, pants down low. i’m a rockstar. baby, let me know if u wanna ride with a hip hop star.

the swing of your hips is entrancing, the heavy bass guiding the silky whining of your waist as you let the music flow through you. the hem of your skirt is sitting dangerously high on your thighs, the length of your legs glistening under the flashing lights when, suddenly, the vibration of your phone jolts in your hand, which makes a smile break through your lips before you spin on your heels to gaze up at the elevated platform ahead.

the familiar figure leaning over the railing already has her eyes on you, her fingers stroking her chin as she lets her eyes slide down your figure, and the smirk she flashes you sends you reeling. your smile widens before you lift your arm and gesture to your wrist with the pointer finger of your opposite hand, the drink in your hand sloshing in your excitement, as you make a rapid cue to your imaginary watch.

shuri raises her eyebrow in amusement before slightly jerking her head back, calling you to come to her while her hands move to adjust the silk over her torso. the click of your heels washes away with the volume of the lively club, the smile on your face light as you make your way through the bodies of the familiar faces you had invited to tonight’s event, offering short but friendly greetings.

you dance your way through the crowd, ever the party girl, making your way up the stairs that lead to where shuri was, the entrance to the platform secluded from the chaos that was the heart of the club, and you glide through the hanging crystal curtain that acted as a makeshift door, quickly glancing at your phone, seeing the time switch to midnight, then you’re lifting your gaze to sweep over the space, your sight quickly landing on her.

the smile that hasn’t left your face widens as you make your way towards her, quickly placing your drink on the centre table as you walk before you take to sweeping your gaze over her, she is turned toward you, and her back is pressed against the railing that overlooks the dance floor. you lean yourself between her spread legs, bringing your arms around her neck as you heavily press into the warmth of her body, and the squeal that escapes from you brushes against her neck, making her chuckle lowly.

her own hands place themselves on your hips before sliding up along your waist, her tall frame leaning forward into the gentle pull of your arms, and as she brings her touch to the bare skin of your upper back, she firmly presses you into her, “happy birthday, babe.” your hands are trailing along her strong shoulders as you pull back from the dip of her neck to press a kiss against the skin of her cheek, “the mighty panther’s finally the big twenty-two.”

a heavy laugh crawls from your chest as you jerk in her hold, her hands dropping to squeeze your waist as she rolls her eyes at your teasing, a smile pulling at her lips as she looks down at you. there’s a loud call of her name that has her eyes reluctantly pulling away from yours, your body detaching from hers as there’s soon a multitude of birthday greetings flooding shuri, a genuine smile lighting up her face as she happily receives the warm cheers and hugs.

the music is cutting off, the flashing lights dimming, just as you planned, before the double-tier cake is brought into the room and placed on the big table in the centre, the cheers from the club are steady as you go to grab shuri’s hand, pulling her to take her seat in front of the cake as you stand beside her seated figure.

a bashful smile spreads across her lips when everyone starts singing for her, her arm shooting out towards you at the giggle you let out at the sight, pulling you to sit on her lap before her warm hands slide up the skin of your thighs, coming to rest heavily just before the hem of your skirt, her long fingers falling between the crevice of your legs as if they belonged there.

⤠

shuri’s the life of the party, the crowd circled around her as she dances, the people moving with her, and her energy is plausible, raising the energy of the crowd around her to where everyone was having an unforgettable time alongside their queen. you smile fondly, shifting slightly on the barstool before lifting the sweet cocktail to your lips, sliding your eyes to the busy bartender to resume the conversation you were having with him, a light laugh slipping through you at his joking words.

five minutes of back and forth chatting pass before strong arms circle around your waist, shuri’s head coming to rest along your shoulder before she hums, using her strength to firmly pull you off your seat, your hand coming to rest over hers as you startle, your drink forgotten on the bar. her sharp eyes, unbeknownst to you, cut harshly at the man before you, the sheer authority flowing through her causing his gaze to lower as he clears his throat.

“dance with me, my love.”

she’s already pulling you towards the dance floor, the crowd parting for her as she walks with you in tow, choosing a darker spot in the space before she spins you around, letting go of your hand to slide both her hands under the loose fit of your top and settle them on the heated skin of your waist. her head dips to where her curls skim over your neck as she pulls you closer, pressing your hips against her, then her hands are guiding you to whine against her slowly but firmly, your breath catching at the way she manhandled you as if she owned you.

the thought makes you chastise yourself, you were friends, that’s it, but it doesn’t stop the clenching of your thighs when her wandering hands travel your moving form; the right sliding further up to rest just below the band of your bra, the entirety of her palm pressing over the rise of your heaving ribs while the left hand slid down the front of you, over the top of your thigh, where it pauses over your skirt, the firm press causing the hem to rise.

the placement makes you gasp, and shuri feels it under her grip, feels you, and it tempts her, you tempt her. she shifts her hanging head to where her lips can skim over your sweet skin, her mouth parting against your exposed collarbone causing your head to tilt, wanting more of her. that makes the taller girl insatiable, and calls forward the predator within her, she can hear the depth of your breath, feel the pump of your blood under her fingertips, smell the desire you have for her, and it makes the panther purr in response.

and before you can blink, shuri’s pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. when you come out of the daze she spun you into, you’re already seated in the passenger seat of her car, and your jaw is dropping in disbelief, as she drives off. “shuri!” you screech, “you can’t just leave your own fucking party like that!” and the sound makes her laugh, and shake her head before she responds, her voice cocky and low.

“i do what i want, s’thandwa.”

the words dry up your throat, the effortless air of dominance surrounding her permeating your skin, unconsciously coaxing you to submit to her, and you let your lips part before letting out an awkward chuckle. the heat inside of you scratches at your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe, shuri smirks before she parks in front of the palace, seeing a second car pull up beside them that she ignores; stepping out to pull you towards her chambers.

“ayo and aneka, you’re dismissed for the night. y/n will be retiring with me.” she calls the words over her shoulder, using what you always tease as her 'queen voice'.

the heat rushes to your face as you continue your journey, your sleeping with her wasn’t uncommon nor was it new, but the implications of the words always embarrassed you, because all you ever did was sleep. to foreign ears though, it sounded like she was on her way to tear you apart, to completely ravage you in the time you spent together behind those closed doors.

your train of thought is interrupted when shuri’s bedroom door clicks closed behind you, the girl kicking off her shoes before kneeling to slide off yours, her hands gentle as she manoeuvres you by your calves, her fingers working to slide the shoes off and you place your hand on her shoulder to steady yourself.

when she rises, she makes sure to follow the length of your legs, a gasp cutting through the atmosphere as the movement of her hands causes a slight lift of your skirt before it drops again when her hands come to hold your triceps, and she’s standing upright. she’s not letting your gaze leave hers as she walks you by your arms to her bed, and you follow, follow her like a lost puppy. the pulse between your legs intensifies when she gently pushes you onto her soft silk sheets.

you’re giggling lightly at her cheeky smile, her lithe figure throwing itself atop you before her arms come to split your legs as she settles between them. her head is against your chest as you lift your hands to the soft coils of her hair, and shuri lets out a satisfied sigh. the atmosphere is comfortable as you play with her hair, her head is laid sideward on your chest so shuri can listen to the steady beat of your heart, and she finds herself quickly agreeing with the panther inside her when she deems it to be the sound of their home.

although, as time passes shuri begins to get restless, so words flow out of her mouth to distract herself, “thank you for tonight, s’thandwa, you know you didn’t have to go all out like that for me.” her hands tighten their hold on you in gratitude, bast, what would she do without you. your chest shakes lightly in a fond giggle, your lips parting in protest, “nuh-uh, i had to go all out for the person i love, please be so serious, and don't thank me, babe.” when your laugh quietens down, you fondly add to your tender words.

“anything for the birthday girl.”

and the words jar her, suddenly, the heat of your body against her, the thrum of your heart in her ears, and the softness of your skin underneath her has her feeling absolutely primal, itching to claim you. she exhales as she slides up against you bringing her face to rest in the dip of your neck as she breathes you in, the action making you gasp lightly causing your hand to slide gently to hold the back of her neck, the other dropping to hold your rising skirt down.

there’s a pause before she’s humming, “you smell good.” another pause, then her lips are sliding across your skin, her mouth parting so she can taste you, murmuring into your skin, “so fucking good, baby.”

the gasp of her name is loud, and you’re instinctively bringing your two hands to grip her shoulders tightly, trying to ignore the heat of her coiling muscles under her thin shirt, your legs clenching around her hips, “we shouldn’t, shuri.”

your words are breathy, unconvincing even to yourself and the dripping wetness between your legs. her lips continue their trail against your neck, your head tilted to allow her to continue, and her rough hands tighten around your thighs, spreading you further open for her before her words seep into your pliant body.

“it’s my birthday, baby.” the words ignite the heat inside you. “you gonna let me touch my pretty girl?” and it has your mind spinning, your nails digging into the silk of her shirt as she sucks your skin into her mouth, “let me, baby, please?” the raw need in her voice has your head nodding aggressively, your hips bucking up into her as you whimper.

she pulls her face back to look into your eyes and her face is serious as she stares into you, “need you to use those words for me, baby.” you’re gasping out pleas that make her hum, before she's sliding her hands down your quivering thighs, her torso lifting off of you as she grips under your knees to gaze at the soaking lace between your thighs, letting out a deep groan at the sight.

“that’s my good fucking girl.”

you shy away as she looks at you, she’s soaking up the sight of you so deeply that it forces you to shut your eyes as you whine, long and needy, your head turning to bury your face in the sheets that smell like her, your legs failing to close around the grip she has on you.

the sight of her stubborn, headstrong, and independent friend whom she’s, quite frankly, in love with, being so meek and pliant under her has shuri’s own core clenching, a taunting laugh escaping her lips as she finally slides down the bed to lay on her stomach, her head between your legs.

“look at me, y/n.”

her hands rip the dainty material around your hips, and it makes you momentarily clench your eyes even tighter, fisting the sheets beside your head before you reluctantly flutter your eyes open, your hips bucking when you catch the sight of shuri between your legs. she's gazing at you so erotically it makes your cheeks burn with blood, your body clenching tightly with embarrassment as you force yourself to breathe deeply.

“want you to watch me while i eat my pretty baby’s pussy for my birthday, okay?”

the words make you moan, your thighs are straining against her hands that press on either side of your exposed heat, and she’s holding your thighs open as she licks her lips, the action making you burn, and you’re crumbling under the humiliation coursing through you. your eyes are stuck on hers as if you’re in a trance, her tongue sliding out before she glides the muscle across the entirety of your pussy, letting out a tortured groan that has you clenching hard, a loud moan punching through your chest.

your hips are jerking into her tongue as she works through your seeping folds, devouring you tirelessly, and it makes it difficult for you to breathe. your stomach clenching tight as you bring your hands to her hair, your head dropping back as you arch further into her mouth, murmuring incoherently.

“please, please, oh my god, please.”

your hips are canting against her lips, her tongue sliding over your clit making you cry out loudly, the coil in your lower stomach tightening as you gasp wetly, then shuri’s pulling her mouth away from you, her arm coming to press your hips into the mattress when they chase her, halting your movements.

“i thought i told you to keep your eyes on me, princess?”

her words are warning, slicing through your dazed state as you snap your head up quickly finding her eyes on you, “there we go.” she coos the words out, her hand sliding over your clit before circling the ring of your clenching entrance and you’re begging her to touch you and it makes feel shuri high, feeds her alter’s predatory nature.

she slides her long fingers into you, her pace hard but controlled as she thrusts in and out of your warm walls, groaning before she sinks back down to wrap her pretty lips around your pulsing clit, and the action has your breath stuttering. your body tightens again before shuri brushes roughly against your spot, her lips suckling your bud as she hums into you, and you’re crying out as you orgasm, your legs trembling as you arch your back.

shuri’s whispering praises into your spasming pussy, her fingers still slowly pushing through you, carving her place inside you, inside her pussy and the thought makes her purr, her pace slowly picking up, and you whimper. your hips chasing her fingers and she chuckles at how needy you were being, “can’t, c-can’t, please.” your voice is wet with tears, and her voice is soft as she coos at you lovingly.

“thought you said anything for the birthday girl, baby?”

your hips desperately chase her now still fingers, unconsciously using them to pleasure yourself and shuri’s grunting as she slides her eyes along your figure, “fuck, that’s right, use my fingers to make my greedy pussy come, s’thandwa.”

her words spur you on, the tears trailing down your cheeks as you chase another release, your thighs trembling violently as shuri just watches you, watches how you use her and her eyes are sharp, glaring at your dripping cunt as you clench around her. she sighs before lifting her free hand to press against your lower stomach, then her fingers are unrelenting, ruthlessly dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting the tissue inside you over and over again.

“i’m coming, i’m coming, shuri, please, don’t stop.”

your voice breaks around the words as you sob out, the ball in your stomach releasing so heavily that your body jerks aggressively, your breathing heavy as shuri soothes your cries, dropping gentle kisses along your quivering thighs, squeezing your skin to bring you back to her. she lifts herself to peck your parted lips, her teeth digging repeatedly into the soft pillow of your bottom lip as she waits for you to calm down, humming at the taste of you, and the slight pinches of pain make you whimper softly.

“bast, baby, you make me so wet.”

her words are breathed into your mouth, and they make you so warm, the idea that someone so powerful was dripping because of you, when you hadn’t even touched her, the notion makes you gasp. “can i touch you?” your voice is shaky, and so needy, that it makes shuri exhale heavily before she rolls to lie beside you, her hand reaching for the thigh of your leg furthest from her, to bend it across her lap, pulling you to press against her side.

your heart is pounding as she reaches for your hand, guiding it down her tense stomach before she lowly orders you to unbutton her pants, your trembling fingers comply before she grabs your wrist gently and slips it past the band of her underwear to rest directly on her wet pussy. and you gasp so hard, your body bucking against her when you feel just how wet she was for you. the lithe girl lets out a soft sigh as she brings her head to your neck, her breath fanning against your ear as she guides your fingers through her.

“just like that, baby.”

her voice is breathy, low, and so soft, that it makes you clench, your fingers slipping to circle her clit, desperate to hear more from her and she moans out in response, her hand just gripping your wrist, no longer guiding you. she’s breathing heavily into your neck as you increase your pace, drawing tight figure eights along her, the sweet, breathy noises falling from her prompting you to slide your fingers to her entrance and she stills when you press against her opening. your voice is soft as you shyly ask her, “is this okay?”

in response, shuri’s hips buck against your fingers, and her words are needy in your ears, “please, baby.”

the fire in your chest burns brighter before you’re slipping your digits into her warmth in response to her breathy plea, her walls clenching around you when you go to thrust gently in and out of her and shuri’s moaning out, her slim hips canting to the steady rhythm of your thrusts and the sight makes you unbelievably horny.

when you add another finger and angle them upwards, the panther’s hips stutter as she wetly gasps around your name. her head lifting as she brings her stagnant hand to curl around your throat, bringing your gaze to hers as she pants against your parted lips.

“that’s it, make me come, baby, please.”

shuri’s pleads are light, breathed softly into the air but still commanding, and it makes your aching pussy clench, how was someone so deadly so soft against you, bathing in the throes of her pleasure so gently. you increase your pace, making sure to graze her soft spot with each deep stroke you give, and then her body is stilling.

her mouth lets out the loudest moan you’ve heard from her, one that contrasts so greatly with the rasp of speech, her voice is deep and heavy as she switches to her native tongue, speaking the words into your mouth, “ndiyaphila, s’thandwa sam’ (i'm coming, my love.).”

her shaking thighs close around your working hand as she shakes through her orgasm and the sight makes you whimper, your hand only stopping when she grunts and tightens her grip on your wrist, sliding your hand out of her pants before clenching her thighs tightly again.

her shut eyes flutter open to gaze intensely at you when you’re being too quiet, her mouth dropping open when she sees you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them clean gently with a hum before releasing them with a soft pop, startingly when you open your eyes and meet her blazing eyes.

the queen’s eyes close to gather the last strands of her self-control before she breathes out heavily, “fuck, you want to kill me, princess.”

then you’re squealing as she throws herself onto you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she pushes your bodies to lay on her bed, pressing you tightly against her as you giggle, shifting to snuggle against her; not worried about your party clothes, nor about the volume of your laughs – just existing with each other and basking in your shared love.

do i blow you away? do i stimulate your mind? would you taste my love, if i gave you time?

ஜ

#pinkwrighting ⊹ ۪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ.#shuri udaku #shuri x black!reader #letitia wright #shuri smut #shuri fluff #shuri x you #black panther #shuri black panther #black panther wakanda forever #shuri angst #shuri x reader #shuri imagine #shuri x y/n

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scarletttries · 1 year

Text

Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader Headcanons Part Two

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word count: 2.3k (warnings: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Roman Roy, when did you make such a permanent camp in my little heart? Thank you for all the messages and comments asking for part two of these headcanons! Part one of these headcanons are here, they were initially written as age gap headcanons but I think these could be enjoyed with any (adult) reader's age in mind at this point :) Also please continue to fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

- When your friends ask exactly what's going on between you and Roman it's not easy to answer. Deep down you know that there isn't anyone he feel closer to, Roman opting to spend as much of his time hassling you as possible, but he doesn't exactly articulate what he's feeling, leaving you to piece together the clues in his behaviour to work out just what you mean to him.

- Like the first time you ever saw him scared; you were both stood leaning against the back wall of the bullpen while Logan set up a makeshift stage to rally the troops and reassure them that despite the recent headlines 'he wasn't fucking going anywhere.' Roman had been his usual sarcastic joking self as the speech kicked off, happy for a reason to have you huddled next to him, unable to draw his gaze from your face, awestruck by your beauty even in the office's hard fluorescent lighting, and then Logan raised his voice. His shouts of 'killing the competition' and 'annihilating anyone in their way' immediately turned Roman from a charming, blasé professional to a scared little boy, stood frozen to attention lest he do something to piss off his father. You watch as his eyes all but clenched shut at the chorus of shouts, his jaw tensing to the point we were sure you could see his muscles trembling. Conscious of the crowd around you, you scooted one small step to the side, edging closer to Roman until with a gentle lean your right shoulder delicately met his left. You stilled as you gaged his reaction, not wanting to push a man who already had a habit of retreating away from any affection shone his way. But after a few seconds you watched his eyes blink open, his lips parting to let out a trembling sigh as he leaned his weight slightly into you, your brushing shoulders the anchor he needed in the storm of his father's tirade. Even after Logan's speech had ended and the crowd dispersed, he seemed reluctant to part himself from the warmth of the corner you shared, promising to come find you later 'just in case the Roy's hadn't wasted enough of your time today.'

- The supportive instincts you felt towards Roman as you grew close were not unreciprocated, the usually isolated man being surprised by his own protective streak as it emerged. It would come across in small ways at first, Roman keeping an eye out for who spoke to you at parties and inserting himself in the middle of conversations if he thought someone was getting a bit too friendly. He'd hold a door open to guide you through, putting his hand on your lower back as you moved past him only to feel his entire body jolt with electricity at the slightest bit of contact with your skin.

- One morning he'd be perched on the edge of your desk, where he found himself more and more these days, the hours he spent away from your company dragging until you were together again, like his life had been spent entirely in the shadows but suddenly he had the sun all to himself in you. As you let him fill you in about the latest drama from the top floor, the deafening shriek of the fire alarm blared down on you, making you flinch with its uncomfortable volume. Before you could move out of your seat, you felt the warm hands of Roman Roy settle either side of your face, protecting your ears as he tried to mouth 'It's just a test' over the echoing rings. As his hands rested against your cheeks they didn't tremble or twitch like he usually did around you, they were soft and safe, comforting you while blocking out the noise, Roman pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he felt touching you like this, your soft, rosy cheeks warm under his touch. It took him a few adoring seconds too long to realise the alarm had stopped and now you were just staring at him with a soft smile that had his stomach turning in a way he didn't quite recognise, but wouldn't mind feeling again.

- Reading between the lines is an essential skill when it comes to being close friends with Roman, his childhood of ridicule and discipline making him wary of opening himself up and asking for what he wants. You find him waiting for you in the Reception of Waystar one morning, practically launching himself out of his seat once you step through the large glass doors.

"Jesus don't you ever take a day off? Like, just fucking play hookie sometimes?" First thing in the morning you feel like you've joined a conversation that's been happening without you for an hour, trying to get catch up,

"Uhh, I guess I usually take the holidays off, and my birthday. Why? Should I be playing hookie on some random Thursday in April?" You watch his expression closely, recognising the familiar action of his mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the perfect nonchalant way to ask for something, his voice quiet when he speaks again as if he's already hurt his own feelings before you get the chance.

"Fuck you, this random Thursday happens to be my birthday." He feigns looking hurt that you didn't already have this marked in your diary, but you can see what Roman needs and just how badly he needs you to be the one to suggest it.

"Today's your birthday? Happy Birthday Roman! You should definitely take today off! And I should play hookie with you! Come on, let's get out of here." You dial the enthusiasm up to 100 and drag him from the building before he can attempt to make an unconvincing argument that that's not why he mentioned it, grateful that your gentle grip in his hand seems to have momentarily rendered him speechless.

- You spend the rest of the day sat in a local park in the sun, having takeout delivered for lunch, including the best cake your delivery app can make happen at such short notice, watching Roman protest as you tell him to make a wish and blow out the candle, the ever-cynical man telling you that his wish was for 'world peace', so it was guaranteed it wouldn't happen now that you knew.

- The next day when Roman trudged up to his COO office, still internally walking on air after the best birthday he could ever remember. There he found a haphazardly wrapped gift, the first he could ever remember receiving that didn't look like a department store display piece. Inside was a home-baked treat from you, and a planet earth jigsaw with a note that said that his wish of 'World Pieces' had come true. Roman kept that note in the top drawer of his desk whenever he needed to smile, hoping the wish he actually made would come true as well.

- When the nights of family functions grew particularly exhausting, and you had stopped being in Logan's focus enough to merit an invitation, sometimes Roman would find himself torn by indecision of whether or not to try and find you once he escaped the gala in question. Eventually after a few missed late night calls, and an embarrassed cold shoulder from him the next day, you showed him how to just add your phone's location to his 'in case of a work emergency', watching the warm smile flush across his cheeks at how comforted he felt in the knowledge that even when you weren't together, he'd know just how far apart you are.

- It wouldn't be long until one Friday night you'd be at a bar with your friends, probably still trying to collectively decipher what to call you and Roman, having never known anyone quite like him, and suddenly you'd see him slink through the door. He'd look so out of place and uncomfortable in a dive bar without you by his side, increasingly self conscious as each of your friends turn to face him, a knowing giggle spreading round the table as they witnessed the latest event in your bizarre relationship. Roman stood frozen in the doorway as he weighed up what to do, having never thought further than just needing to be wherever you are after a long night of being his father's whipping boy, desperate to be somewhere he felt safe and understood. Recognising the despondent look on his face from reacting to his father's raised voice, you said your goodbyes and collected your things, running over to Roman before he could dash out the door and pretend he hadn't come all this way just to see you.

"I was just about to head home, do you want to make sure I get home safe?" You offered, ignoring the elephant in the dimly lit room of why he was there, a visible wave of relief washing over Roman as he nodded and took your hand,

"Yeah, I'd like that. I have a car outside."

- Roman was clearly on the edge of saying something on the ride back to your place, his lips twitching nervously as if every word that tried to escape them would ruin everything you two had precariously built. It wasn't until he was safely in your home that you perched on the edge of your counter, bringing you to eye level with the fidgeting shape in front of you, that you tried to open the can of worms.

"Is everything okay Roman?" You spoke softly enough that Roman had to stop his pacing and settle into the spot in front of you to reply, letting his torso almost meet your legs where they dangled off the kitchen island.

"All good honey, just all fucking good." He ran his fingers through his slicked back hair as the words felt like acid rising in his throat, even the slightest pet name stirring up every nerve inside of him as he continued, "Speaking of good - we've got a good thing here right?" He gestured between the two of you as he spoke, his hand almost landing on your thigh but never quite braving the landing. His eyes darted up to your confused expression from where they rested, looking down at his shoes like if he didn't see the disgust and judgement on your face then it wasn't there.

You tried to respond kindly, thoughtfully, unsure of exactly how to define the thing between you and even less certain of how Roman saw it,

"Yeah, it's good Roman. We're close." Roman nodded, satisfied enough with the response to continue, desperately trying to ignore the vicious voice of mockery running through his own head, usually echoing his father's words.

"Exactly! We're close...so if I were to call you my girlfriend? That'd be normal right? Like even though we don't..." He trailed off as if he couldn't face addressing his own deviant thoughts or the mental block that stood between him and physical intimacy. His heart hammered in his chest as you considered his words and your own feelings carefully, before gently taking his hand in yours. You let your knees drift apart just enough for Roman to stand between them, encouraging him to take a step forward so your faces were barely an inch or two apart.

"Yeah, I could call you my boyfriend." You tried to deliver the words in the same relaxed tone that the question was asked in, and the walls Roman kept his heart behind betrayed him as a sincere smile flashed across his face at your sweet sentence. He nodded again, his breathing seeming to settle at the agreement, more relaxed now that he knew that these feelings weren't one-sided, that despite being unorthodox this relationship still meant to you what he needed it to.

As the warmth of the moment ran like brandy through his veins he let his eyes drift up to yours, warm and happy, and then to your lips. Roman had never really found himself craving someone's kiss before, but he'd also never felt anything like this, and somehow he knew this time would feel different. Slowly, timidly, like at the back of his mind he still might get a smack across the face at any moment for his behaviour, he leant forward until his lips met yours, barely letting them taste the soft, sweet reception you gave him before drawing back. He took a deep breath and leaned in again, letting himself savour the moment a little longer this time, feeling the corners of his lips tilt up as you kissed him back, the slight pressure against his lips sending his head spinning. His hand found your cheek, somehow even softer than he remembered as he leant his chest forward against yours, his lips parting to capture yours again, needier and hungry to taste more of you, finally understanding why people would write songs and books and films about this feeling, the insatiable need to feel you on his lips sure to plague his thoughts forevermore. You let one hand settle on this back of his neck, thumb stroking softly over the tense muscles there as he forced himself to pull away to breathe, manic hyena laugh echoing through your home as pure exuberance burst out of him that he was finally feeling like this, and with someone as kind and as perfect as you. Quietly you heard him mumble under his breath, "That was actually pretty nice." Which only made you both laugh more, the novelty of finally crossing the line from friends to more, and the ecstatic joy of finding the person you were hoping for, waiting on the other side of that line too.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #succession hbo #roman roy fluff #roman roy angst #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy succession #roman roy headcanons #succession imagine #succession #succession headcanons

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m-musings · 2 months

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okokokok, i LOVE how you wrote the overwatch boys, and I have a kind of long-winded request for Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, and (if you write for him) Ramattra:

their s/o was previously a test subject for Talon experiments, something they have nightmares about. how would the boys react to their partner having one of said nightmares and trying to attack the person trying to wake them up.

ik this is kinda specific, but thank you if you write it! ♡♡♡♡

A/n: oooo this is a good request, let's hope my angsty writing chops are up to par bcuz i really hope this lives up to what you want (hcs under the cut!)

Warnings: general angst, accidental physical violence, mentions & implications of past torture (also op doesn't really know how to write nightmares/night terrors asdfghjkl) Word Count:1586

Headcanons: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo and Ramattra with a Former Talon Test Subject S/O (Separate)

Cassidy:

When Cassidy awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you fiercely muttering at no one, its safe to say he's concerned.

He listens for a moment as you make alarmed noises, trying to discern what exactly is going on.

After turning over to flip on the light, he glances over at your sleeping form thrashing around with your brow furrowed in terror.

"N-no... get a...away f-from me..." Cassidy hears you say clearly, getting more worried by the second.

As he begins to reach over to try and rouse you from your slumber, the volume of your voice grows from a to an earsplitting shriek.

As you keep screaming, you start becoming combative, slapping and punching at Cass while somehow still asleep.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Jus' h-hold on a darn second here!" He says as he tries to block your attacks by grabbing your hands.

"No! NO! Let me out!" You wail as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Darlin', it's a dream, you gotta wake up! I'm here, just open your eyes!"

Debating between forcing you to wake up and just continuing to reassure you and talk you down from the fear, he decides that the latter is probably going to be the safest for both of you.

After a several minutes long struggle, you slowly stop trying to fight Cole as your once frantic breathing begins to return to its normal pace.

Your tired eyes begin to blink open as the last bit of panic leaves your body in a few small gasps. When you fully regain consciousness, Cassidy sighs in relief as realization begins to sink into your thoughts.

"Are you okay, what the hell happened there?!" Questions Cole as he smooths his hands over your hair.

Choking out a small sob, you gently grasp his bicep to try and ground yourself as more tears begin to fall from your eyes.

"Cass, I-I'm sorry... I- I was back in Talon and the pain j-just wouldn't stop!"

His heart drops at the mention of the evil organization, knowing what kind of awful treatment you went through while kept there.

"I tr-tried to get away but I just.... couldn't! It was awful!" You whisper as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Darlin' I'm so sorry... I am so sorry..." Cole responds faintly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

The room grows still again for a moment, with only the sound of your hushed weeps filling the air.

"I don't wanna go back, please don't let them take me!" You cry into Cole's shoulder as he holds you close.

"No, no, you won't. I swear that as long I'm breathin', I will always make sure you never have to go through that ever again."

Genji:

Genji is all too familiar with nightmares. During the first couple years after his confrontation with Hanzo, he would very frequently have them. He's been through that whole song and dance a million times before.

Which is the reason he immediately knows what's happening when he wakes to the sound of your screams next to him.

He rushes to throw your shared quilt off and make sure you're okay, getting punched once or twice in the process.

After the nightmares pass and you calm down enough to speak, Genji is right there to comfort you.

"It's alright, my love, it is over now... Are you okay?" He questions as he holds one of your palms in his.

You shake your head no as you take several sharp breaths in and out.

"I was there again... in that-that godforsaken lab with fucking Moira prodding at me like cattle! It felt li-like it would never end! I can't go through that again!"

"And you don't have to. I don't know all of what happened to you, but I promise you will never have to face it on your own. I'm here to help you however I'm able to."

As the fearful adrenaline steadily leaves your veins, Genji brings your hand up to his chest so you could feel his heart beating just beneath his cybernetics.

"I love you and will sit here with you as long as you need me too."

With a sad, shaky laugh, you nod and you take your hand back in order to wrap yourself around him.

He does the same in turn as you embrace him ever so slightly tighter before he ushers for you to lay back down together so you can get some much needed sleep.

Pulling the blanket back over your bodies, he scooches in a little closer and begins to hum softly in the hopes of lulling you into a nightmare-less slumber.

Watching as your eyes begin to flutter closed again, he hears you mumble something just before you doze off.

"Thank you, Genji... I love you too."

Hanzo:

Hanzo already has trouble sleeping himself, so when your nightmares come around, he's already wide awake.

As you toss and turn underneath your blanket, he tries to calm you down by running his hand over you head, not caring if he gets hurt by your unintentionaly violent movements.

Once the night-terror ends, you start holding your face in your hands and rock back and forth as Hanzo rubs assuaging circles on your back.

"My dear, what can I do? How do I make the fear stop for now?" The archer inquires as you continue to shake in place.

"I don't know, Han... every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the lights and the wires and the needles... It won't go away no matter how hard I try. I just want them to be gone." You state, anxiously starting to press at your temples.

With a noiseless sigh escaping from his lips, Hanzo moves closer to place an arm across your shoulder and rest his forehead against your head.

"I am sorry for not being there with you. If I were able to change history, I would have gone to great lengths to rescue you."

As you begin to cry at his admission, he places a delicate kiss atop your head.

"I would never ask you to do something that dangerous for me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you..." You sob out as you bury yourself into Hanzo's side.

Hanzo is quick to wrap his other arm around you, offering a comforting squeeze before ushering you into his lap.

"You wouldn't ever have to ask for my help. I would trade my life for yours if it meant that no more harm would come to you."

Ramattra:

It's uncommon for Omnics to dream- let alone have nightmares- so the first one you have around Ramattra? It comes as a bit of a shock to him.

When he hears you yell, he all but rockets out of his reboot cycle to scan the room for any hidden threats to your safety.

After seeing nobody there but the two of you, he glances down to see you- fast asleep but clawing at the air like a trapped animal scratching at a predator.

He then decides to do a scan of your vitals, just to make sure you aren't in any immediate medical distress. The scan reveals to him that your heartrate and breathing are through the roof.

Just as he's about to cross the room to try and wake you up, you shoot up from your fitful rest with a loud inhale as you slam your hands down onto the mattress below.

Swiftly joining your side on the bed, he cautiously turns your visage towards him as he goes to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

While your eyes try to adjust to the low light of your room, you call out Ramattra's name, receiving a modulated but relaxing shush from his vocalizer.

"Calm yourself, pet, I'm right here. Now, tell me what has happened."

As you take a moment or two to collect yourself and come down from your frenzy, you gaze up to meet the faint glow of his faceplate emitting from his eyes.

"It's Talon; they... tormented me... a long time ago. Had me chained down as a doctor injected chemicals into me before he began flushing them out and started the whole process over again..."

Watching as you barely manage to hold back tears, His joints all seem to freeze in place as fury begins to creep in and take over all his systems.

"They need to suffer for their misdeeds. Who are they?..." He presses, his voice now hauntingly deeper than before .

"I don't know their names, and even if I did, I would do everything in my power to forget them."

An uneasy silence fills the space between you two, staying there for a minute before the large Omnic grunts and lifts you into his arms.

"I am sorry for what you had to go through. Just know that if any pain ever comes your way again, the offenders shall be personally dealt with." Ramattra claims as he rests his faceplate against your jaw.

Relishing in the cool feeling of his metal features against your warm skin, you nod appreciatively before he begins to lightly sway you to and fro.

Watching as you drift back to sleep, Ramattra makes a mental note to hunt down the Talon members who hurt you the next time he meets his allies. He wouldn't and will not stand for the mistreatment of the only human he has ever cared about.

#headcanon #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagines #cole cassidy x reader #genji shimada x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #ramattra x reader

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