#and the starting over theme..... it's all coming together
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Brats Get Punished
You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)
I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry
Today had fucking sucked.
No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.
You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days.
It felt like five days without air.
The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.
The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.
It was finally friday.
Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else.
You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.
Fuck.
The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.
Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.
Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.
She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.
You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.
“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go.
“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly.
That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.
“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.
Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.
As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.
“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.
“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.”
Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.
“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.
Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further.
“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.
In her harsh exit, you fall apart.
Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by.
8:00
9:00
10:00
Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.
Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore.
Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.
Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?
Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more.
You always needed more.
Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.
Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong.
Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this.
Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.
You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows.
‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.
Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.
Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly.
Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed.
Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.
You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.
“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.
Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them.
You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.
The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.
You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.
“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”
Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.
As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.
“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace.
You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest.
Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend.
Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly.
‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.
Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.
“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.
You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off.
Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets.
“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.”
You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly.
‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.
Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.
After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."
You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her.
“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.”
You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting.
You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.
“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.”
She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot.
You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting.
Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.
“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly.
Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would.
“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being.
It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.
As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.
You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.
Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.
Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation.
“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”
You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?
“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.
Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”
Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight.
You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.
The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.
You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment.
Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand.
“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”
You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions.
“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.
Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days.
She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion.
You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.
Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop.
Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her.
As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully.
“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.
Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant.
“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises.
Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.
“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”
“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”
You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t.
In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking.
‘Once a brat, always a brat.’
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Why Did So Many People Hate Aziraphale?
When the ending of Season 2 happened the majority of the fandom lost their collective shit. They went utterly bananas. A main theme that I kept coming across was the strange and insulting sentiment that Aziraphale "rejected Crowley" or that Aziraphale "chose heaven over Crowley" or that Aziraphale "Was an arse for leaving Cowley", etc.
When I finally got around to rewatching Season 1 of Good Omens and then watched Season 2 of Good Omens and finally saw some context for the ending, I was/am even more baffled as to why people were so cruel to Aziraphale.
Why had they failed to hear what Aziraphale said to Crowley? Why hadn't anyone taken a moment to realize that Aziraphale respected Crowley's choice to not return to Heaven with him? Why did the collective fandom just completely ignore the WORDS, ACTIONS, and EMOTIONAL RESPONSES that Aziraphale expressed in the heartbreaking finale?
Maybe it was the simple fact they just couldn't cope with what they saw. Maybe the fandom needed someone to blame other than Neil Gaiman himself. Or maybe, the fandom just failed to take a moment to carefully comb through and observe the small, tiny details that are far more important than the big, dramatic moments that fill up the runtime.
However, what I noticed most is the total disregard for Aziraphale's lines in the last scene between Crowley and Aziraphale in season 2 episode 6. So this is where I'll Start.
HE WORDS:
Some of his dialogue was/are as follows:
"He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything, like the old times. Only, even nicer."
"But Heaven...well, it's the side of truth, of light, of good"
"Come with me...to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference"
"Crowley, come back, to heaven! Work with me! We can be together! Angels..doing good!"
"I...I need You!"
"I...I forgive you"
Do these lines of dialogue give any indication that he rejected Crowley, or chose Heaven over Crowley, or that Aziraphales was being an arse?
No, they do not. These lines of dialogue clearly show that Aziraphale WANTS to be with Crowley so they BOTH can be angels DOING GOOD and MAKING A DIFFERENCE. Aziraphale wanted Crowley to be redeemed so that he could join Aziraphale in Heaven and be on the side of TRUTH, LIGHT, and GOOD.
Aziraphale didn't want to leave Earth WITHOUT Crowley, however, he was forced to because Crowley rejected AZIRAPHALE'S offer to come back to heaven. So instead of forcing Crowley to come back to Heaven with him, even after the awkward kiss, Aziraphale decided to let him go and sacrificed his happiness to SAVE THE WORLD FROM HEAVEN!!!!
It was not easy for Aziraphale to leave Crowley or even Earth or even his bookshop. HE sacrificed EVERYTHING so he could fix heaven's broken system and stop God and the Angels and Metatron from repeatedly trying to destroy the Earth just to win a dick-measuring contest with hell.
Aziraphale doesn't like war. He despises war due to witnessing the rebellion in heaven AND watching the humans go to war and kill each other repeatedly for over 6,000 YEARS. What Aziraphale did was something nobody will ever be able to understand until they find themselves in Aziraphale's shoes.
It's not easy being an angel, who has been forced to "bear witness" and "not intervene in human affairs" because doing so will go against God's "Great Plan" which may or may not be a part of God's "Ineffable Plan".
Aziraphale cannot stand by and let Heaven destroy all life on Earth. Of course, he knows that Heaven isn't all truth, light, or good. He knows Heaven is broken and needs to be reformed. He knows that Crowley is right about Heaven being toxic. Just because he knows that Heaven is toxic and not as truthful, enlightened, or good doesn't mean he's not somewhat in denial.
It's not easy being trapped and suffocated by a cult-like institution whose sole purpose is to keep you from leaving the said institution. It's not easy watching humans committing atrocity after atrocity, and not being able to stop it. It's not easy watching God kill innocent people and children just because they can't get along.
Aziraphale has struggled to figure out what, "doing the right thing" is and how far he's willing to go along Heaven's/God's plans of destruction until he just can't anymore. All Aziraphale has had to keep him going along with Heaven's/God's plans is his faith that Heaven/God knows what they're doing and that complete destruction and devastation will never truly come to pass. Only to find out later that Heaven and God don't necessarily see eye to eye and that God themselves are super unreachable, even in a time of crisis.
Aziraphale has done EVERYTHING he was told and more and it still wasn't enough to keep another armageddon from happening. Since he can't completely stop it on earth, he HAS to return to heaven and find a way to stop it from happening from there, which may prove fruitful and pointless.
What most fans didn't register or realize is the fact that Aziraphale chose to return to heaven for very UNSELFISH reasons. A part of him knew Crowley might say no to returning to heaven with him, so he decided that if that was the case, then he would let Crowley go, so that he, Aziraphale, could fix heaven and permanently SAVE THE WORLD... something he CANNOT do if he stayed on Earth.
Why is this so hard for some fans to see and/or consider? Why is this something only a few fans actually talk about? Why was there so much Aziraphale hate when there shouldn't have been?
It's not Aziraphale's fault that he couldn't stay with Crowley. It's HEAVEN'S fault that Crowley and Aziraphale can't be together because they (Heaven) are too war-minded and emotionally stunted to realize how many innocent people will die just because they want to measure dicks with Hell.
HIS ACTIONS:
The second thing I noticed happened a lot was the initial total disregard for Azirphale's body language and/or actions during the last scene of Crowley and Aziraphale in the final episode of Good Omen Season 2.
Throughout the scene, we see Aziraphale exhibit the following nonverbal cues:
---initial happiness
---confusion
---Distress
---Anxiousness
---restless hand movements
---pacing back and forth
---sadly looking around the bookshop
--etc.
These nonverbal cues show us that Aziraphale went from being extremely happy to an emotional wreck, especially after the awkward kiss.
Aziraphale excitedly told Crowley about his promotion expecting Crowley to be happy for him (Aziraphale), only for Crowley to grow irritable and angry. Which confused Aziraphale and slightly angered him, yet he still somewhat understood Crowley's response.
As the scene goes on you can tell that Aziraphale is desperately trying to keep Crowley from leaving at first, but relents after the awkward kiss and fully accepts he lost Crowley for now.
Aziraphale really wanted Crowley to say "yes", however, it did not pan out that way. So Aziraphale just gradually quieted down, shorted his verbal communication, and tried his best NOT to have a complete emotional breakdown in front of Crowley.
Not once did Azirphale exhibit any controlling behaviors or actions. When Aziraphale and Crowley came to an impasse and Crowley ultimately left, Aziraphale didn't even go after Crowley. He let Crowley go because going back to heaven to fix it and stop the second Armageddon was more important than fixing his relationship with Crowley, and because Aziraphale knew that when everything calmed down, and the 2nd coming was adverted, and there were no more threats then maybe he would be able to have a proper long talk with Crowley and explain why he did what he did and said what he said.
HIS EMOTIONAL RESPONSES:
Some fans also didn't really register how many emotional responses Aziraphale had in the last scene with Crowley in the season 2 finale.
Aziraphale went from ecstatic and happy to confused and slightly angry, to confused, overwhelmed, and heartbroken.
He started the scene excited and ecstatic about his job promotion and he was nearly exploding with joy when he initially told Crowley the "good" news. Only to become confused and a little angry that Crowley didn't seem happy for him and flat-out yelled at him.
At first, Aziraphale is stubborn and confused at Crowley's response to the supposed good news, yet he still listens to Crowley who eventually can somewhat incoherently say that he loves Aziraphale and wants to be an us.
As the scene progresses Azirapale starts to restlessly fidget, heavily breath, and frantically look around as he realizes that the conversation is south faster than the sinking of the Titanic. You can see on his face that he's trying to understand what Crowley is trying to say however, he just can piece it together that well.
Aziraphale understands that Crowley does indeed truly love him. However, Aziraphale also realizes that he too loves Crowley in return and is now getting increasingly overwhelmed to the point that he can't form coherent words.
During the awkward kiss scene, you can see that Aziraphale slightly and very briefly goes to hold/caress Crowley's shoulder right before the rough parting between him and Crowley. At this point, Aziraphale is confused as to why the kiss happened, is overwhelmed by the fact he kind of liked and wanted another one but it simply wasn't the right time, and is heartbroken that he has to leave Crowley, but he doesn't know for how long.
CONCLUSION:
Throughout the entire scene, Azirphale actually struggles with Crowley's disappointment and anger in response to Aziraphale's job promotion, with the idea of leaving Crowley and returning to heaven alone, and with how the hell he is supposed to cope, let alone function without Crowley to talk to.
Nowhere in the scene does it suggest that the decision to return to heaven was easy or simple for Aziraphale. He struggled like bitch and was still left for heaven heartbroken and without Crowley.
Yes, the ending was sad, but there shouldn't have been Aziraphale hate in the first place.
So I leave you with this:
So why the fuck was there so much Aziraphale hate?
#Don'tBlameAziraphale#Aziraphale#good omens 2#good omens theories#good omens thoughts#good omens tv#good omens#BlameHeaven#Heaven#Hell#LeaveAziraphaleAlone
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Hey, um… with the whole “Bluejay!Jason” concept… has anybody ever considered it as an Inkheart reference instead of just a play off his name?
Follow me here, and sorry in advance, this turned into a ramble.
In the second book of the Inkheart trilogy, Inkspell, one of the main protagonists adopts a Robin Hood-esque approach to defeating the tyrant king, and adopts the name of ‘The Bluejay’ from famous folk legends and songs written by a beloved poet and often sung by travelling minstrels. He’s -Inkspell spoilers ahead, though this book is unironically older than I am- known for toppling said tyrant’s throne through the binding of a magic book (a recurring theme throughout the series, if you’ve never read it, which you should). He’s a champion among the Motley Folk, who were that world’s equivalent to a travelling circus and also regularly aid him in his quest to topple the Adderhead (the tyrant king mentioned above), and sought to help the poor and downtrodden. The Bluejay is aided and abetted by his family and friends, which include a shapeshifting wife, a daughter with the ability to make anything she reads come true, a fire-dancer who can speak to the flames, and a knife-throwing 'circus' prince with a black bear companion. (They're not called the Motley Folk for no reason, people!)
Now, consider for a moment: Little Jason Todd, in the local library, absolutely devouring the Inkheart series. It's everything a little kid could dream of in a fantasy book! And there's three of these fat books, what more could you possibly want? And he has an excuse to sit in a warm, safe building for a few hours.
Now imagine, Inkspell becomes his comfort book. Of course it does- every kid had one, and I can't imagine an orphan who grew up alone on the streets of Gotham picking anything other than a story about a strange man helping the opressed and downtrodden in a land he grows to call his own with the help of his family- and The Bluejay is an excellent father to his daughter, too, of course Jason pictured himself as part of that family, as whisked away into that world.
And of course, the rest of the series is wonderful too -Inkheart is where it all began, after all, and Inkdeath is the final triumph over evil!-, but Inkspell is a story about becoming. About learning to be more than you were born as- after all, if Mo the simple bookbinder could become the hero The Bluejay, what could Jason the street orphan become?
Maybe, instead of discovering this book in a library, he found it in the trash. And maybe he wondered, as he read it, why anyone would ever want to throw away the tale of Mo the Blujay, of Meggie the Silvertongue, of Resa the brave swift, of Dustfinger the loyal Fire-Dancer? (And maybe the last one took a while to get there, but he did get there! Eventually! And maybe Jason can understand why it took Dustfinger so long to truly come to trust someone again, because trust is a terribly dangerous thing to give to someone, because you can never really know what they'll do with it.) Maybe he read it through without knowing anything about Capricorn or The Shadow or why they feared the man named Basta, because they hadn't thrown away the first book, only the second. Maybe he wept for the death of Dustfinger, at the very end, because he didn't know that Death wouldn't keep him, because they hadn't thrown away the third book.
Maybe Inkspell found its place among his most treasured possessions. Maybe, when he met Batman and Bruce Wayne in one night and his life changed forever, Inkspell came with him, with its familiar story and characters and world and sorrows.
Maybe one of the first things Bruce did, upon seeing Jason reading that same battered old paperback, was to order Inkheart and Inkdeath and leave them in his room. Maybe that was when Jason started to realize that he wasn't going to leave forever.
(Maybe Jason and Dick would play Motley Folk together, because Dick was in the circus and could most certainly throw knives, even if it gave Bruce a heart attack every time he saw it.)
And maybe, after he could no longer have Robin, he remembered that old paperback book, that old story and that old world, and he thought of a new name for himself.
Bluejay, he thought, as he picked up the book that had been his constant companion for so many years. I'll be The Bluejay.
(I don't really know what this is. I saw some Bluejay!Jason art the other day and just started thinking of the Inkheart trilogy and the fact that Jason would absolutely have read it and probably loved it. And then it spiralled.)
#dc#batman#batfamily#batfam#batman family#jason todd#robin jason todd#the red hood#red hood#Bluejay!Jason Todd#bruce wayne#good parent bruce wayne#well he's trying to be#trying to connect with his new son#dick grayson#nightwing#inkheart#inkspell#inkdeath#mortimer folchart#mo folchart#mo inheart#inkheart trilogy#bluejay inheart#I think that's everything#let me know if there's something else I should tag
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new era starts tomorrow 🛣️
also hint hint yall, I'm gonna be announcing an event on monday jan 2nd for my belated 7k follower celebration with a very special/romantic event date and a cute theme that I've been planning since november ❤️
#oliver talks#told yall some exciting things were coming!#don’t worry though even though a new era is coming deancaskiss isn’t going away because there will be a return of Thee url again soon!#just ready to start the new year with some exciting new changes#and I’ve been hinting at this 7k event since November#some of y’all might remember I made a post with a lil *hint hint* the theme is my favorite place ;)#I’ve literally been putting this idea together for the last couple months#and I’ve been waiting to announce this for weeks#I can’t wait to celebrate with y’all#I really love hosting events and interacting with yall and crying over all the stunning content y’all make
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i havent played jackbox in a while
bonus:
#got fired#happy may 1st#somehow these things from yesterday come in use for today#yes i did win the jackbox round with two suicide themed things#i then continued this theme through out the rest of the games as i wasnt doing well yesterday#i think i somehow knew that i wouldnt be doing well today either#considering ending it ngl got all the meds i take together and even got my razor blade out again lul#later i guess#i got distracted so now im here and not choking on my own vomit#if youre wondering why im making a big deal out of me getting fired its because the job i worked even if it over worked me#it gave me a reason to get up and start the day#even if it made me so tired everyday it got me out of bed#im not gonna eat for a while#now time to reblog shit like normal
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Guys i finally finished space and just finished coming off the livestream girl help im crying
#it feels super nostalgic because were back to dissecting and watching something together as a community again and getting friends involved#theres references and styff that date back to well date#and to wkm with the music like are you kidding????#the reason it took me so long is i pulled my friend into it#and i made her watch the whole shelf of marks projects beforehand for reference and everything#and she watched all the game theorys and stuff so we were watching it over zoom and the wkm theme started and we both just paused and looked#at each other and just let a few tears loose?#it was a moment#and she somehow hadnt seen/heard space is cool#so the new one came on cause thats the decision we took and i actually almost started sobbing dude#that song means so much to me because it signifies the community so much#it hits just as hard as all the way does to me in a way#i get really teary when something nostalgic plays so it came on and suddenly i was in sixth grade again watching something#on a crappy computer where i could delete my history because my mom didnt approve of me watching someone who swears#it was such a good moment for me#it took me back to just reading the theorys back when wkm had just come out and i was reading some weird fic and i ran into someone#mentioning something about a murder mystery and i went on a whole journey finding it and watching it#its so cool to see mark do something first this huge and second this absolutely mindblowing project that means so much#i could ramble for hours but these are long enough#iswm#in space with markiplier
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NEIGHBORLY.
simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz
tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp
cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie
; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.
"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."
8.5k words
When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.
It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier.
Then the house next door sold.
“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.
You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”
“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.
His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”
He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”
“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.
“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.
You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.
You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.
“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”
Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..
His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.
“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.
“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”
“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”
“You’re the boss,” he sighs.
True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.
You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.
Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door.
“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”
The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”
“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”
“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.
“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.
“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”
“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.
“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”
“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”
“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”
You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder.
Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”
You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”
You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.
Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”
“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised.
The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.
“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind.
You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”
“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.
“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”
“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”
“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”
His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.”
“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest.
“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.
You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”
His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”
“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”
“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”
“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.
You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away.
“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”
“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.
“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”
“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.
You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”
He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”
You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”
He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”
“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”
He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”
You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”
A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.
He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.
“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”
“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.
“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”
Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”
“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”
You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.
Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest.
The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait
“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.
He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.
“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause.
He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.
“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.
Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.
He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.
You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.
“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.
“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”
“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”
He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.
His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.
“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.
“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”
“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.
“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”
He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.
When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.
“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”
Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”
He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”
“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.
“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”
You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”
He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.
You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”
He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.
One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.
On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.
“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.
“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.
“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.
“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.
“I get by,” you laugh.
“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”
You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question.
“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.
You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”
“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.
“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”
“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”
“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”
“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.
Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”
Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”
You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”
He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”
“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”
He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”
The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.
“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”
“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”
Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”
Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”
“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”
Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”
“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”
“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”
Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”
“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.
Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”
“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”
Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”
Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.
The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.
When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.
“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.
“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”
“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.
“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.
You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.
Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.
You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.
Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.
Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.
“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.
You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”
“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.
“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.
“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”
He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.
“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”
You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.
“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready.
Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.
“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.
Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.
He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.
You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.
“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.
“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”
You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”
He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.
“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.
“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to.
Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.
“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.
The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.
“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”
Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.
He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.
The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself.
Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit.
“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.
He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”
He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.
Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.
He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started.
“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.
You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”
He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door.
You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.
“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear.
You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next.
“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”
“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.
Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.
“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”
“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.
He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”
You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned.
Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.
You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.
“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”
“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.
A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.
His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.
When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.
He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.
When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.
He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.
“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.
“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”
You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.
Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.
With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.
When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.
“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”
You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.
You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face.
“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.
You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”
“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”
“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.
“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.
“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”
You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.
Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.
“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”
Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.
One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.
Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.
Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.
Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.
“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.
“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze.
Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.
After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.
Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.
“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.
Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.
“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”
“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.
“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.
“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.
Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.
Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers.
“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”
He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.
You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.
“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.
“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.
You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.
Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.
He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.
“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.
You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.
“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.
Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.
You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.
Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.
“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”
You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.
His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.
Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.
“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”
You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.
As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”
“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”
Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.
It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor.
Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.
“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”
“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.
That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought.
You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.
“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”
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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence.
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.
“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
The months pass by in a blur.
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.
“Oka—mmph!”
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would��ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you.
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fanfic#across the spiderverse fanfiction#spiderverse fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagines#miguel o'hara#spider-man 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#atsv fanfiction
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Yandere Headcanon: Worship
Yandere Forgotten God (tentacle monster) x GN Reader
TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, gore, dubcon, and yandere themes
He was an ancient chaos god, one that was once revered amongst humans a millennium ago. But over time he had been forgotten when his fishing village had become a city. Now he was nothing more than a tall tale. A god with no name. He no longer had a humanoid form but was now a blob of black tentacles. It was shameful how far he had fallen from grace from his own pride. He should have made sure he was never forgotten.
The god shouldn’t have been so cocky to believe that monk couldn’t seal him away but alas, this was the punishment he deserved for his insatiable greed.
So when you arrive to his shrine and accidentally break the millennium old ward, he’s shocked. Have his own prayers finally been answered? Has someone come to free him from this lonely existence?
“I’ve heard there was once a god of chaos here so I have come to pray to you… please hear my plea.” You then bowed down in respect to the shrine and cried a bit. “I do not wish to be married off to some senile, corrupt man. Please god, if you hear me, save me.” You cried before him. You wanted to be saved before married you off to some old nobleman. You shared your woes of how this man made your city nearly inhabitable with his high taxes and of his salacious behavior. How could he not be swayed? He felt obligated to help you.
And so the god did what he did best, he wreaked havoc. He used his supernatural abilities to cause a landslide onto that nobleman’s home, killing him instantly. Now you no longer had to worry about being a stupid old man’s property. You could continue on with your life worshipping him! Your god!
You visited his shrine daily and left him small offerings. Ones that he would have rejected in the past but was positively thrilled to have now. The god began to love you. How could he not be drawn to your genuine gratitude? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this thrilled with him… it must’ve been over a thousand years ago now? He didn’t know…
What he loved most about you was your smile. It warmed his heart and he adored it. You were his world and he wanted to be more humanoid for you…
When your visits became less frequent, he used that time away from you to try to shape his body once more. He wanted to be with you. To hold you. To touch you, but he couldn’t do that as a shapeless blob of tentacles… but he could if he was more humanoid.
And so here he was with a mostly humanoid body with functioning male reproductive organs… save for the tentacles that remained attached to his back. His face was picturesque but his extra limbs weren’t… it didn’t matter. He would do so much for you, more than any human man. You didn’t entirely have a choice.
The god diligently worked on his shrine to make it more inhabitable for you as well. He needed it to be perfect so the two of you could be here for all eternity together. Him and his savior! His beloved devotee!
When you returned to his shrine after a week of not seeing him with bruises on your face, he was livid. Who had harmed you? Why would they hurt you? Hurt his destined spouse? How dare they… how dare they.
You shared your woes and prayed for salvation once more, this time from your family. They believed you to now be bad luck due to the nobleman’s sudden death and began to verbally and physically abuse you. You looked so miserable… just like him. His poor, precious worshipper didn’t deserve such treatment. No. They deserved to be worshipped.
The god now had enough power to leave his shrine due to your generous offerings. Your worship gave him the power to become a great chaos god once more.
And the god once more inflicted his wrath upon your enemies. This time he tore them apart limb from limb, starting from their mouths to their hands and eventually to their feet. He wished to start out by ripping out the tongues that spat venomous words at you. To break every bone in their hands and feet for the pain they inflicted on you. For every sin committed against you, he would inflict it back tenfold.
This is the first time you were able to see his true form as well… you were so silent the entire time of his massacre of your family. Was he so gorgeous that you were speechless? How cute his darling was!
You began to sob when he held your face between his blood coated palms. The smell of iron was too much for you that you began to retch but he was oblivious that he was the reason of your disgust and fear. Those damn humans must be too much for you to be around… perhaps he should whisk his spouse away?
So he did just that. His arms and tentacles tightly wrapped around you as he whisked you off to your new home together. The revamped shrine. He hoped you’d love it since he worked so hard on making it habitable for the two of you!
You struggle in his grip but he doesn’t relent. You must be shy… how cute!
You try to push the tentacles from you, but they merely wrap around your form to gently massage you. He needed to calm you before you hurt yourself… it was okay!
“Be not afraid, my dear.” His voice made you jump in surprise but he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you… you’re my beloved after all. My savior.”
“You’re the god of this shrine…” you whispered softly, which made the god eagerly nod. “You’re Xeros.”
Yes! That was his name! The one he had forgotten over the years. You were so sweet to remember his name…
You don’t even have time to protest before his tentacles wrap around your body in an enticing manner. The extra appendages slip into the waist band of your pants and tease your tight hole. You whine at the sudden touch but more tentacles wrap around your arms and legs to keep you in place
“Your offerings were wonderful but I need a better offering since I eliminated your problem…” Xeros smiled down at you with his hauntingly beautiful face. “I demand you as my offering. You will be my eternal spouse.”
“But I’m just a human- ack!” You gagged on the tentacle that was suddenly shoved into your mouth. Your eyes welled up with tears as the god beamed at you.
“It doesn’t matter to me what species you are. I’m a god. I will always get what I want.” Your back arched when one of his slimy tentacles finally breeched the tight ring of muscles and wriggled inside of you. You moaned loudly at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that overcame you.
“See? Why would you resist such pleasure?” Xeros leaned to whisper, his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, “I’m far better than any mortal lover. Don’t you think so?”
Your mind is too cloudy to form a coherent reply, your eyes rolled back in you head as his black tendrils ravish you. The tentacle in your mouth soon replaced with his tongue.
This was the way you should always be. You deserved every orifice of your body to be stuffed to the brim with him. To cry and whine in pleasure that ascends human comprehension. To be his spouse and to lay his eggs.
You deserved to be worshipped as his deity
#yandere#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere stories#yandere obsession#yandere god#yandere monster x reader#monster yandere#tentacles#t#terat0philliac#monster fudger#monster fucker#TW.tentacles#reader x monster#monster x reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral s/o#gender neutral imagine#yandere oc#yandere original character#obsessive yandere#yandere eldritch#eldritch#eldrich horror#eldritch monster#delusional yandere#tw.dubcon#yandere headcanons#yandere oneshot
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Tainted Heart
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: After not seeing you for a few weeks, you come back to the base acting strange.
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
TW: sexual themes, smut but not too explicit. anxiety, self-doubt. worried!simon, poor baby thinks he's done something wrong💔comfort and fluff, mind the english!🐸
A/N: okay so yeah, i can't believe I finished this so fast. anyway enjoy!🥹✨🫶🏻💚gif's not mine' iloveyousimonriley!💗
Masterlist✨
You try to even your shaky breathing before opening the door of the meeting room. Taking more than usual to toughen up, the last thing you want is anyone asking if you were okay. Not even your teammates and especially not Simon. Hands trembling when you open and close them, a cold sweat that runs down your spine with the clear signs of anxiety that will soon start to bubble up if you don't get this over with soon.
Another moment passes when all you can hear is your own heart racing in your ears and the world spins for a second; pushing the door open you enter. Everyone's already there, sitting around the wooden table. Four pair of eyes find you, Soap and Gaz smile your way and John nods motioning for you to take your seat next to Ghost. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You need space. You need to be left alone to battle with your own mind. Instead you grab one of the chairs and set it far from them, sitting in the far corner.
Price's eyebrows furrow but doesn't comment on it, merely resuming what he was just telling the rest of the task force. Everyone's attention is back to the Captain except for Ghost. Ghost who's frowning so hard behind the mask at your refusal to join them. It sparks a sense of irritation and worry.
He knows he shouldn't be feeling that way. You are not even together, even if a few nights spent in each other's rooms had taken place, he considered himself something akin to a friend more than just your superior or a few hook ups here and there. Were you important to him? Absolutely yes. He needed to see your eyes, needed you to look his way so he can see through you as he usually does. Your beautiful eyes would tell him what he needed to know.
But you ignore him.
Glaring at Price without really looking. Lost in your head. You know you should be paying attention but it's all static to your ears, it's the sound of every pen writing down on a sheet. Of feet being dragged across the tile floor. Bodies shifting in their seats. Someone sipping on water.
One of the boys making a comment as your leg bounces up and down not being able to stop it. All the voices inside are muffled and you just want to get out of there so bad.
"Sergeant?" Price calls you, raising his voice and pulling yourself back from your stupor.
Eyes blinking rapidly as your attention turns to him and the room is deadly silent. Was that a hair pin dropping in the hallway?
"Yes Captain?" You ask, body numb and cold.
Price sighs.
"I asked if there's anything else you want to know about the mission? You're leaving in two weeks with Ghost."
"Oh." The answer is muttered so lowly they can barely hear your voice. You find the face of the Lieutenant for one second before looking away as if it had burned you. Simon's body goes stiff. "No."
Not convinced but not wanting to push for another answer he dismisses all of you. You're storming out of the room before he's fully done, leaving the four men taken aback by your strange demeanor.
It's not until you've reached the women's barracks that you stop. If anyone had followed you, you didn't notice too preoccupied and deep in that somber haze that's been clouding your mind since you got back from home.
Memories of everything that went wrong. And the memories of the man across the room.
-
A beautiful, warm feeling forms in your belly, big hands tightly hold your waist. His face hiding in the crook of your neck as your arms circle his broad shoulders holding onto him, sinking up and down on his lap. Sweet sounds of skin slapping against skin echo around the quiet night of his room. Simon mutters sweet nothings in your ear as you both chase your highs, coming undone at the same time he forces you took straight to his brown eyes and your heart flutters, overwhelmed at the way he takes in your presence and breathes the essence of you. Just you as a whole. He doesn't let you go until he's spilled everything inside you, massaging you over the soft fabric of your —his— shirt that neither bothered to take off, too enraptured to care.
"Hey, you with me?" giving a small squeeze to your hip Simon let's you touch his face and trace the scars that adorn the uneven parts of his skin. He notices the way your attention seems to drift away from where you are.
"Yeah. Was thinking about us."
His brows lift.
"What about us?" Inhaling deeply you shake your head lifting from your spot and walking on somewhat wobbly legs, Simon follows you to the bathroom wondering why you're acting so strange. "Sweetheart?"
"It's nothing, I promise." He watches as you clean yourself, he could've done it —he has every other time— but now with your sudden change he doesn't know what to think. "I have to go. My parents are waiting for me."
Clenching his jaw he decided to not pressure you on the matter. Ghost was aware that visiting your parents or talking about them struck a nerve within you.
"Want me to give you a ride?" You look at him through the mirror and shake your head in denial.
"I can take the bus."
"Love..."
"It's fine, Simon." You utter. "It's fine."
Turning around on your heels you walk past him, who stays anchored to the same spot outside the bathroom. He watches as you gather your belongings and begin to dress. Simon crosses his arms over his chest.
"Text me when you get home, please?"
A curt nod is all you give him.
-
You never texted him although he had tried to reach out to you in the next few days and you try not to think about everything that's happened as you strip naked and step in the shower. Warm water washing your body, forehead pressing on the cool tiles of the wall. Shoulders shaking, hands coming to your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.
The all too clear picture of your father telling you no one could ever love you. Your mother doing her best to console you when you had told her the truth.
"I- I think I love him mom." sad eyes fixated on the far wall. "And I don't know what to do."
She had taken your hand with a beautiful smile on her lips.
"Any man would be lucky to have you, darling."
Her words resounding in your ears, and your eyes glimmer with hope. Hope that maybe she's right.
But you had promised to never let it get that far. You'll lose him and that's what pains you the most.
Girl's snickering and walking in the shared showers can be heard from behind, you can't see them but the sound of their giggles fade away in an instant. Gone as soon as they came. Turning off the water pipes you wrap yourself with the white towel neatly hung on the bathroom rack and the moment you slide the curtain open you're met with brown eyes leaning against the opposite wall. He's been waiting, hearing you cry. Shooing away all the women who came with a single hard look their way. No doubt gossiping about the Lieutenant being in the women's section.
A long silence stretches between the two before he finally breaks it, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards you, who holds the towel against your body in a vice-like grip.
"Haven't heard from you in days. Weeks." He starts, eyes following the droplets that travel down your body and back to your face. You've been crying. Simon hates seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it. It makes him feel powerless, worthless. What do you call a man that can't even help his girl? "You've been ignoring me. May I ask what's going on?"
He's calm, controlled despite the rage within him. You never texted him back that day, never answered his calls leaving him worried and dwelling on the whole situation.
His own insecurities sparked the worst.
"Nothing, just personal stuff Lt." clearing your throat you try to walk past him but he grabs your arm.
"Bloody hell don't call me that. I'm asking as...-"
"As what?" You bite back, eyes snapping up at him as tears collect in your eyes. Simon grits his teeth he wants to say a lot but no words come out. "You shouldn't be here. People will talk."
"I'm not leaving until you speak. What's got you like this." You shake your head. "Fucking Christ I can't fix this if you don't tell me." He hisses.
"There's nothing to fix!"
"Just bloody talk to me, I'm losing my mind was it something I said?" He's not screaming but he's panting hard. "Was it something I did?!" He demands, big terrified, desperate orbs screaming for a sign.
"I fell in love with you!" You confess, eyes widening in horror at what you just said. Fervently shaking your head and walking back, away from him. Simon's eyes widen for a fraction before he's reaching out again hands cradling your face in them with a wild, desperate look. Your vision blurred thanks to the tears.
"Say it again." He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. Like the sound of snow falling from the sky during the winter. You freeze in your spot, chewing on your lower lip.
"I fell in love." His body relaxed, all the tension he has been bearing on his shoulders for the past days slowly fades. "And we agreed we couldn't let this happen. Never. Forgive me Simon."
"Silly girl." He breathes in, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
"What?" You mumble, one hand coming up to rest on one of his.
"You're in my mind even when you're not supposed to be."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I'm an idiot." His forehead connects with yours and you can finally breathe again. After the hellish days at home, the sense of being loved and protected by the man you love is enough to overwhelm you. "Thought I was losing you for a moment. Nearly lost my mind, love."
"No. Never." You promise, hugging him tightly against your body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Simon I just... I just didn't know what to do."
"S'alright." He soothes you. "I've got you." Feeling like the luckiest man alive, even if he didn't deserve to be loved.
He remembers the moment when he had fallen for you, the day you smiled up at him under the starry night on the roof of the safe house, covered in blood and dirt.
He knew there would be no one else after you.
#cod#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#call of duty#cod mw22#simon ghost riley#cod ghost#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#call of duty ghost simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x you#simon riley x you#ghost smut#ghost modern warfare#ghost riley#ghost mw2#modern warfare x reader#cod mw3
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YANDERE JOCK 🏈
TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER
(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)
Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.
Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."
Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.
Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!
Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.
Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.
Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.
Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!
Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.
Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?
Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!
Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?
Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.
Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.
Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.
Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.
Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.
FIND ALL OTHER PARTS + MY OTHER WORKS HERE
A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)
@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)
#obsessive love#obsessive yandere#yandere#fanfic#yandere boyfriend#writers on tumblr#yandere boy#yandere male#yandere x#male yandere#soft yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x female reader#yandere oc#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere jock#yandere x y/n#high school
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older┆m.sturniolo
summary - what it’s like to have an older boyfriend <3
ᯓ★ pairing - dilf!matthew sturniolo x female reader
ᯓ★ cw - legal age gap, suggestive themes, kissing, mentions of sex, mentions of threesome, fingering, eating out, lowercase intended
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
always protective and looking out for you.
at parties, you’re by his side with his arm around your waist. while shopping, his hand is always resting on your lower back as you walk from store to store. whenever he takes you out, his fingers are intertwined with yours so you don’t go wondering off.
kisses anywhere and everywhere.
forehead kisses while you fall asleep in his arms after a long day, pecks on your cheeks from time to time as you clean up the house, long and passionate kisses on the lips as he slips his tongue into your mo-
“wear what you want, i can fight.”
you can bet your ass you can wear whatever you want. after all, who is he to complain when he’s the one taking it off at the end of the day? he also loves the way you’re always so put together and cleanly dressed, no matter the occasion.
always has time for you.
on the days he’s busy, he makes time. youtube isn’t forever, him and his brothers are aware of that. so when it came to working, he doesn’t hesitate to call in sick or get someone to fill in for him just so he can spend an extra day with his girl.
causal acts of dominance.
he’s the older one in the relationship, why wouldn’t he make sure the little things are taken care of so you won’t have to worry about them? doors are always held open for you, he’s on his knees when your shoelaces become undone, his hand covers the sharp corners of tables and counters whenever you bend down near them.
your priorities over his.
of course he takes care of himself, but when it comes to you? he’ll drop everything. when on your period, he calls off work to spend the day in bed with you. when you feel sick, he already has soup made and your heating pad is all warm. whenever you run out of a product, a new one is on your vanity within an hour. whenever you complain about not having anything to wear, you’re driven to the shopping centre as you try on anything your heart desires. and he of course buys them all.
spending all his money on you.
there’s no doubt about the fortune made from his previous youtube career, but with a good paying job ten years later? it doesn’t take a genius to know that every dollar and penny he earns is spent on you. he never listens to your mewls of complains, he simply shuts you up with a kiss to your pouted lips. “c’mon, honey. why’re you fighting me on this?” “who else would i spend all of this on?
your pleasure is his number one consideration.
the fact that he’s older and the amount of experience he has? whew. there is no question about how he makes you sees stars every night. when in between your legs, his hands are groping the soft flesh of your thighs as his tongue flicks on your clit. when fingering you, he presses your hips down on the mattress to keep you still due to all your squirming. when stuffing your cunt full of his cock, he never fails to finish inside of you at the feeling of your nails scratching down his back and the sight of your eyes rolled back to your head as drool dribbles down the corners of your mouth.
getting over his protective persona and deciding to share you.
he’s no idiot, he sees the way you look at chris whenever he takes you to visit his family and who is he to not fulfil his girl’s desires? it started off with letting chris become touchy with you; brushing your hair out of your face while he’s standing before you, subtle touches while walking past you, hand resting on your hip while he’s beside you. it ended with you writhing in his silk sheets beneath him and his brother as they completely ruin you; from prepping you with their fingers and tongue to filling you from both ends with their cocks.
in the end, you have no regrets about choosing someone older.
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
author’s note - this was written, proofread and edited all on the same day. r u guys proud of me 😕😕
taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @nicksbestie @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol @riasturns @sturncakez
⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑
#sturniolosstar#dilf!matt ༉‧₊˚.#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut
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how would the 141 and König react if they accidentally walked in on reader changing?
Ooh meOW I love this! 😉
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
If you’re in a relationship, he’ll get comfortable and lean against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed one over the other. You’ve got your back to him as you’re getting ready for the day,
He’s watching you silently, watching your every movement, eyes tracking the gorgeous curves of your body, hypnotized by the curve of your ass as you lean down to pull your shorts up your legs. You start pulling your shirt over your head but you’re quickly stopped by the warm strong hands you love so much
“Not ready for the show to end.” He’s pulling you flush against him, your back against his chest as his hands glide up the smooth skin of your torso, stopping to rest gently on your throat tilting your head to the side, kissing along the column of your neck
“Si, we’ve got a lot to do today.” You whined, eyeing the pile of laundry in the corner,
“Name one thing that’s worth me stopping what I’m doing, and I’ll stop.”
You couldn’t come up with a single thing
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
This little shit (with your consent obvs) is intentionally avoiding announcing himself. You’re getting ready for your date and this mf tiptoes into your room and leans against the wall, watching you carefully.
God he could never get used to how fucking beautiful you are, the curves of your waist, your long beautiful legs, your pretty hands, dear lord you take his breath away, he can’t sit still just watching you
You’ve got your back turned to him and before you know it you feel his warm hands running down your waist, over your hips, his kissing the nape of your neck.
“Johnny, we’ll be late for our reservation.” You giggle,
“I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.” He’s nipping the skin of your throat, turning you around to kiss the life out of you
(Spoiler alert: you missed your res and wound up ordering in)
John Price:
A true gentleman, it doesn’t matter if you’ve just gotten together or been in a relationship for years, he’ll apologize and look away, cheeks and tips of his ears a bright shade of red
Correction. He’ll make a show of looking away, but he’s peeking out of the corner of his eye if you’re changing and still facing him
But if you’ve got your back to him, sweetheart he is drinking that view up. He’s breathing evenly through his nose to keep from crossing the room in two long strides and devouring you
It’s like I said, he’s a gentleman and a patient man. He knows damn well he’ll have more time to savor you after your dinner date. He doesn’t have much a sweet tooth, so he doesn’t care for deserts.
But the best and sweetest part of his evening will be peeling that gorgeous outfit off of you, and swallowing all the pretty noises you’ll make for him.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He loves poking fun at you, he knows you’re changing, but when he wakes in he acts startled, shocked that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable position! Why didn’t you warn him?
He always makes you laugh, you throw the shirt you were about to put on at his head and he dodges with ease
“Actually I need that, can you toss it back to me?”
“Hm. I’ll think about it.” He teased, walking over to you and bringing you in close by the loops of your jeans, “Quite like you like this though.”
“Oh yeah? So when we’re at dinner you’d be fine with me out there like this?” You giggled, lower lip pulled between your teeth as you smile at him widely,
“Who says we need to go anywhere, babe? Could eat at home.” You playfully smacked his arm,
“Nothing could possibly compare to the meal I’ve got in front of me.”
As you looked at him through hooded eyes, you realized you felt the same.
König:
He always gets flustered, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he’s beet red and covering his eyes or pointedly looking up at the ceiling.
BUT! If you catch him in a particularly touchy mood, he gets a little brave and sits down on the bed to watch you.
“Getting in bed already? I thought we were watching that new show tonight.” You teased looking over your shoulder, you pulled your pajama pants up your long beautiful legs, and turned to grab the tshirt you set aside when you came out of your shower
He grabbed the shirt before you were able to successfully reach it and set it down beside him,
“I might prefer a different show this evening, schatz.” His voice dipped into the range that told you his intentions,
“W-what kind of show?” It always caught you off guard seeing him like this, always stirred the heat in your gut and between your legs,
He laid down on your shared bed, his legs out stretched in front of him, and he tapped one of his muscular thighs,
“Why don’t you come here and find out, maus?”
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#könig x reader#konig x reader#könig mw2#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#cod mw2#ghost mw2#cod mwii#cod headcanons
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Imagine rough sex with eds and you guys just break the bed and you have to tell wayne
✶ ┄ BROKEN BEDS !
summary: you and eddie break his bed. the worst part is having to tell wayne.
pairing: eddie munson / f!reader
warning: smut! eddie being the cutest human alive! a wild appearance from uncle wayne! 18+ mdni!
a/n: i need everyone to know that when i wrote this draft, i titled it "breaking bed" and it made me chuckle a lil. anyway, thanks for your request anon! enjoy xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
when eddie muson fucks, he fucks like a wild animal
he grunts with each of his rough thrusts, brown eyes somehow darker with lust while his untamed curls cling to his sweaty forehead
and you just let him drill into you because, truth be told, you love him this way
you hold the backs of your thighs and keep yourself wide open for him while he fucks so deeply into you
he leans over you, one hand white-knuckled where it grips his headboard, and the other wrapped around your throat
not tight enough to choke you exactly, but to make sure your eyes stay locked on his as he fucks you for all your worth
the headboard slams into the wall in time with each of his thrusts, rhythmic bang bang bangs that you’d be scared are leaving a dent in the wall if eddie wasn’t making you feel so good
he tilts your jaw to the side to expose your neck to him
and he hides his face in the sweaty crook of it, seeking refuge there while he nips and suckles at the warmed skin
you just keep begging for him to go harder and deeper and faster as he fucks you more and more stupid
and eddie complies without question
he revels in the way you keen each time he pounds into you and how your face scrunches up and your back arches for him
your toes curl and your legs tense up so hard they start to quiver
and right when you’re about to come, the bed suddenly jolts and dips beneath you, accompanied by loud crashing sound
it scares the shit out of you and you squeal while eddie lets out a grunt of surprise
because his bed just fucking broke
and it isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, the thing is about as old as he is
but it does take the two of you off guard
all you can do in the moment is laugh about it
and eddie barely wastes another second before he starts fucking you again
because his bed is already broken, who cares if it gets more fucked up?
plus he knew how close you were to your orgasm and you just look so pretty when you come <3
the worst part about it though is telling wayne
because there’s no way he’s not going to notice
and eddie can’t exactly sleep on a crooked bed
so he just comes up with the shittiest excuse known to man “so the thing is... i was… jumping on the bed…”
wayne furrows his brows “the hell were you doing jumping on your bed?”
“well, you see, i was just, you know… trying to… heal my inner child…”
“…what the fuck does that mean?”
but, like, obviously wayne knows
typically you’re good at keeping eddie in check and sometimes he can hear you saying you don’t want to fuck while wayne’s in the house
and that’s a part of the reason he likes you so much bc you don’t want to put him through that trauma
but you guys are young and in love and sometimes keeping your hands off of each other feels like the hardest thing in the world
so he knows exactly how the bed broke
but hearing eddie trying to lie about it is the funniest thing on the planet
shopping for a new bed frame is easily the most adult thing you and eddie have ever done
and the only one he can afford is a star wars themed one in the children’s section
eddie groans and acts annoyed about having to get one that’s so childish but you know he secretly loves it
because the headboard is shaped like the cock pit of the millennium falcon with lightsabers painted on the foot of the bed
you try to put it together without wayne’s help while he’s at work
and you’re like “how long do you give it before we break this one?”
“an hour if you wine and dine me first <3”
have any blurb requests? send em here if you want!
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#st headcanons#eddie spaghetti hc
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Shrimply Yours~
In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.
Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~
—————
“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”
Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.
You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?
In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.
At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.
“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.
“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-
“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”
One second passed. Two. Three.
Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”
He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.
“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”
He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”
Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.
“…Hey, is something burning?”
“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”
———
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst yuu#floyd leech#twst floyd#twst floyd leech#twst floyd x reader#floyd leech x yuu#floyd leech x reader#octavinelle#octavinelle x reader#mostro lounge#calcified writing
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just now remembering this. like full stop i don't think i've thought anything of this experience since a few days after it happened.
but more than a year ago. i was taking a bus from malaga to granada and one of the station employees came up to me (i was the last person in line to board the bus at this moment) and ask me if i could help out this gentleman (the station man's words precisely, he called him caballero) he was leading with him. and it was immediately evident that this guy was visually impaired or blind.
and well. i was like 'yeah of course' because yeah of course.
and i did, sort of. but i wasn't sure like, how far was too far. with helping. so i only helped minimally. and also i didn't immediately fess up that i didn't speak spanish natively, in fact i don't think i mentioned it at all. (maybe i said i was a student? i can't recall). which i should have said immediately so that he understood that if i said something wrong or weird, it wasn't me getting impatient with him or exasperated over assisting but simply low confidence in my imperfect linguistic grasp (and just overall low confidence, generally, extensively, but nevertheless). or so that i could have asked somebody else to help if he didn't feel comfortable with me and my incompetent ass, which would have been totally fair. i probably should have said that from the get go, really, but it felt like it might have come off as me trying to brush off the task and trying to make excuses to get out of it. yeeeeah, so the two of us basically stood there in silence except when i had to give verbal directions for like "walk forward" "stop" "there's stairs" etc. which were overall pretty stilted, i think.
also, he got off the bus just fine but then i wasn't sure if he wanted help from there, so i let him alone. i'm sure he could have gotten out of the building without issue eventually, but it was taking him a bit of time with the layout, to find the door from the bus stall, whatnot, and everyone was giving him weird looks. which really just rubbed me the wrong way, so after maybe 15 or 30 seconds, i did go up to him and offer to assist him again. so i got him to the taxi area and into a taxi, if i'm remembering the events correctly.
simultaneously a nice experience and a super humiliating one. because like i am literally so👏 dumb👏 and i think way too much but i thought if i said something about not speaking spanish super fluently that i would get in trouble or something. so instead i probably made him feel terrible and was like suuuuuper awkward about helping him. like bitch, if you don't know, just ask what he wants you to do to help, holy fuck.
now i know better, but i would go back and slap myself right in the face if i had the chance.
#i'm happy to have helped but deadass i should have allowed him to find someone more qualified#such as someone who could clearly communicate in spanish 🤦♀️ it's not giving in it's fucking helping by recognizing your limitations#also i'm pretty sure the silence was in some part because i was overthinking whether this poor dude even Wanted to have conversation#as one does#literally just kill me this is too much secondhand embarrassment#this poor poor guy#at the very least i will know better on the... extremely off chance i have a similar experience in the future#see also: when i helped a kid and her mom find their youngest sibling/child (who was like 3) when again. not a native spanish speaker#again with that one... i was just being dumb. like when the kid found her sister? unsure what else to do i started walking away#shouldn't have done that#walked down through these gardens for a short while and encountered the mom. very stiffly told her the two kids were together#then unsure what else to do. she leaves to go find them and i walk off instead of like. leading her to the children#shouldn't have done that 👀#common themes#half of this is overthinking and the other half is underthinking like is there even a solution for this sheer dumbassery?#relating to these experiences. i wouldn't call myself a confident spanish speaker... but it's nice to know i've come a long way. oof#oof oof oof#both these two things happened over two days in like last week of september/first week of october 2021#quickly i gotta go to bed before i stay up all night agonizing over my mistakes. as if i don't already do that goddamn#but on second thought. i've been thinking about this long enough that things are slooooowly returning to me in small bits#maybe we did converse? like a tiny bit? tiny tiny. and i remember he said he was a student. so maybe i told him i was too? i'm not sure...#also in both these situations but definitely in the latter. there weren't like. other people around lining up to help. it was kinda just me#and when you're the 'first responder.' well. you do just that. ya respond. because there's nobody else to do it.#6 january 2023#ha haha haha;sfhpqiuvpiweuhc qwe. i suddenly got a bad feeling and came to check and uh.#this was supposed to go into drafts but here the fuck we are so. whatever
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