#its like screens with different displays but in my head | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emo-batboy · 10 months

Text

Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another.

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #batman 2022 #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #gotham #dc universe #dc #saturday night live #snl #soft bruce wayne #batdad #batfamily #gotham city #brucie wayne #only in gotham #give battinson a child 2k23

4K notes · View notes

dear-bunnyboo · 6 months

Note

can I request a Joe x Model!reader where they are secretly dating and she will be walking at the VS Fashion show and since they are a secret, Joe is watching the show live at home with his friends and they are teasing him 💕

it would be such a cute idea!!

more Joey B one shot request for you cuties!! (this is mainly Joe's pov!) you can also continue sending me request if you guys want to, my request box is always open 🤍

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Model!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your secret boyfriend watches you as you walk the biggest runway of your life.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, cursing, teasing, tension?, nerves, secret relationship

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joe's leg was bouncing up and down, seemingly his leg had a mind of its own— Joe looked fine on the outside, his calm and stoic demeanor was a normal look on him. However, to people who actually knew him in a personal level would know how nervous the quarterback was— plus his leg bouncing up and down kinda gives it away.

It was a crisp evening, and Joe was at home with his closest friends; Ja'Maar, Tee, Tyler, and Sam who were all surrounding him on the couch as they loudly conversed among themselves. As Joe sits with his closest friends in the dimly lit living room, He can hardly contain his excitement— Joe invited his closest friends over for the night not just to hang out and as much as he enjoyed their hang outs this was something entirely different. They were all gathered to support you who they have grown close to from dating Joe.

The moment Joe's been eagerly waiting for is about to unfold— the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, a glittering spectacle, is the platform for you, Joe's secret girlfriend, the woman who has captured his heart. Joe can feel the nerves dancing in his stomach as he anticipated the start of the iconic runway.

The quarterback does not have a lot of knowledge when it comes to runway or modeling but after meeting you, he had learned the different terms and technicalities— he has also learned how important walking this runway is for a model's career. This was not your first time walking the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show but it was the first time you'll be walking with Joe watching, now as your boyfriend.

You and Joe have been dating for almost a year now— a year you two managed to keep your relationship under wraps from the public eye. Joe being the star quarterback of the Bengals and you being one of the most coveted supermodels in that field— people are expected to talk. So when you two finally made it official, you decided that it was better for the meantime to keep your relationship just between the two of you— well, except for a few exceptions; that being both your families and closest friends.

The same friends who are staring at the TV in front of them while they teasingly nudged Joe, as the TV projected a glittery pink display;

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪’𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓕𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀

Written on the screen as a countdown started playing below it, showcasing that there was only three minutes until the shows begins.

Despite his nerves, Joe couldn't help but let out a grin form his face as they continued tease him. As the countdown reaches sixty seconds, his friends took it upon themselves to start counting down— they were now on their feet, counting down the numbers on the top of their lungs as if it was New Years while they teasingly circled around Joe like a bunch of idiots as he would put it in his head.

"3! 2!.. 1!"

A hush fell within them as the once pink glittery display disappeared, moving onto the iconic opening introduction that showcased the glittery runway where a bunch of people were surrounding; from actors, actresses, and the likes.

Joe couldn't help but feel envious of them— he wanted to be there physically with you and watch but his circumstances hinders him from doing so... next year, he swears silently to himself in his head.

As they all finally settled in back on the couch in front of the TV, Joe couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, anxiety, and a strange blend of vulnerability. His friends were his confidants, the ones who'd been with him since the start of this incredible journey in the NFL. But now, they were all here with him supporting his girl.

A loud bang of music started playing, Bruno Mars walked out greeting the audience as his song 24K Magic started playing— this instantly made his friends jump up to their feet as they bopped and danced to the beat. As the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show began and the first models graced the runway, Joe watched with bated breath. The anticipation was palpable, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. His girlfriend, the woman he cherished above all, was among the models preparing to walk. Joe knew she was out there, and the pride he felt was overwhelming.

Joe, however, tried to remain composed on his seat, silently sipping on his drink on hand as he bopped his head up and down to the beat, the models started walking out one by one— walking to the beat as Ja'Maar started praising each and every one of them.

"God Damn!" he playfully melted on the spot as he grabbed his chest earning a chorus of laughs from them including Joe who shook his head at his friends shenanigans.

The show continued, and the atmosphere in the room was charged with anticipation— they were all waiting for you to come out. The models sashayed down the runway, and with each passing moment, the teasing from his friends intensified. They now started to chant your name inches from his face as Joe let them, his eyes solely on the screen waiting for you to walk out.

And once you did— pandemonium.

As you stepped out, a shimmering vision of grace and beauty, Joe couldn't help but gasp. You were breathtaking, you walked out wearing a red lingerie partnered with huge red wings that you wore with pride. You were radiant and confident, walked out sparkling under the runway lights. You were breathtaking, an ethereal presence, and his friends gasped in awe. The angel wings adorning you like a celestial being. Your radiant smile and confident stride captivated everyone, just as they had captivated Joe from the very beginning.

"Joey B!" Sam cheered while nudging him with his shoulders.

“Damn, Joe!” Tee hollered to himself,l not long before winking at the quarterback.

Joe remained aghast as he gawked at your figure strutting down the runway with a flirty look on your face— enjoying your time on camera. You were amazing, a natural at what you do. You had the most beautiful smile on your face that made Joe feel like melting on the spot— the quarterback was so focused on you that his friends teasing remarks sounded like white noise to him. All his senses were solely focused on you and only you— he was immensely proud of his girl.

A mixture of pride and awe washed over him as you glided down the runway. Your elegance and poise were unmatched, and you held the audience, and him, in the palm of your hand. It was a moment of profound beauty, watching the woman he loved shine on a iconic stage.

Joe's heart swelled with affection, and for a brief moment, the world disappeared. It was just him and you, connected through a screen, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and admiration. Joe applauded and cheered along with the audience and his friends as your walk concluded, Joe celebrated with pride and joy. You were extraordinary, and he was grateful to share in this moment of your incredible success.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

940 notes · View notes

peterspinkrobe · 10 months

Text

Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #priest!miguel #priest au #au fic #across the spiderverse #miguel x you

1K notes · View notes

soobszzn · 9 months

Text

distant affection

synopsis: doing everyday tasks wasn’t a hassle when jungkook was with you - even if that meant you were miles apart.

pairing: ldr!jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, established + long distance relationship

content/warnings: long distance relationship and all things associated, mentions of food, jungkook is still an idol, brief (lol) mention of jungkook and his sexy calvin klein endorsement, use of “my love” in a teasing (& affectionate) context

wc: 1.8k

a/n: sorry this is so late!!! love u, S🌸

you knew navigating a long distance relationship with the jeon jungkook would have its ups and downs. obviously, the time difference messed with you both. one person would be asleep when the other was awake, and even if you were awake at the same time, one of you would usually have to attend to other things.

the both of you made it work, though. you’d send each other pictures throughout the day and squeeze in video calls wherever you could. you’d mail each other gifts when you couldn’t be together for special occasions. when jungkook had a couple days off, you’d use it to have long movie dates online in which he would usually fall asleep first. but you didn’t mind.

during his longer breaks, he’d always make it a point to come visit you. the two of you would go sight-seeing in your own city or take a short trip to the next town over. you loved doing anything and everything with him, but the most enjoyable moments were in the mundane. you loved moments where you’d scroll on your phones together on the couch or tease each other while you brushed your teeth before bed.

saying goodbye was always the hardest. there wasn’t anything that could really make missing him hurt less. but while helping him pack during his last visit, you took advantage of when he snuck off to the bathroom and stole a hoodie out of his suitcase. you’d hoped he hadn’t noticed.

munching on your midday meal, you scrolled on your phone before getting a video call from your boyfriend. it was a welcome surprise, so you answered right away.

“hey! what are you doing awake right now? isn’t it like five in the morning?” his phone was looking at the ceiling and you heard music playing in the background. colorful lights speckled his ceiling, and you knew he was again enjoying the galaxy light projector you gifted him last christmas.

“i have a free day tomorrow! and i really wanted to talk to you!” he yelled, indicating he was far from his phone.

you smiled to yourself, appreciating your boyfriend and his sweet gesture. you guessed that with how busy he was recently, he’d be dead tired by the time he came home. but, the fact that you were the first thing on his mind made your heart leap. you then heard the faint music in the background cease, and watched as jungkook propped his phone up, front camera now facing him.

he was leaning on his kitchen counter, sleeve tattoo fully on display. his hair was long and fluffy, his bangs reaching his eyes. you could tell he was tired, but nothing could hide how handsome he was.

you noticed him stare intently into the phone screen. “what are you staring at?” you questioned with a laugh.

“you’re eating lunch right now, right? i’m hungry! let’s eat together!” he said excitedly. jungkook then adjusted his phone so that you had the perfect view of him busy at his stove. you watched as he began tossing things into his pan. you chuckled softly.

“what are you cooking?” you asked curiously, your head now resting in your hand.

“i’m just throwing stuff together, see?” he answered, now panning his phone to what looked like fried rice.

you giggled, now panning your phone to the makeshift fried rice you made for yourself just earlier. the two of you erupted into laughter.

“pretend i made that for you, okay?” you teased, setting your phone back down and taking another bite.

as jungkook finished preparing his meal, you asked him about his schedule for the day. he complained that he had a lot to do in the upcoming days because he had an international schedule set for next week.

“are you sure that’s not just code for coming to visit me?” you half-joked. you knew he was currently busy with solo activities, and it hadn’t been too long since he last visited. but there was always a small part of you that hoped any time he left korea, it was because he was on his way to you.

eventually, he ended up at his kitchen table, phone propped up as if you were sitting across from each other. after taking his first bite, he exclaimed with amazement at his own kitchen creation.

“wahh! wow!” he cried, intentionally being overdramatic. you laughed at his silly theatrics, but you found it all endearing nonetheless.

“want a bite?” he teased, holding a spoonful up to his phone. you proceeded to imitate receiving a bite, and the two of you laughed.

while enjoying your respective meals, you continued to chat about small and pointless things. despite the uneventful topics of conversation, eating together like this made you crave real dates with him. ones where he’d take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner or a small cafe for some coffee. you made a mental note to take him to a new brunch place that opened up the next time he visited.

“what else are you planning to do today?” he asked, making his way to his sink. you followed suit, thinking it would be cute to wash dishes “together.”

“whatever you’re planning to do today.” you replied warmly.

the two of you then washed your dishes simultaneously. your video call now filled with the sounds of water running and dishes clanking, with jungkook occasionally breaking into song or humming a familiar tune.

“i have some laundry i need to fold actually,” he mused afterwards, taking a quick scan of his home.

“i do too!” you replied excitedly at the convenient coincidence.

now, with both phones propped up in your respective living rooms, the two of you dove into your piles of laundry. you chatted about new music you were listening to, books you wanted to read, and the new spider-man movie that jungkook was excited to see.

when jungkook began tackling his pile of underwear, he started showcasing the new pieces he received from calvin klein.

“oh my god! what are those!” you laughed. the two of you giggled at the brightly coloured pairs that he was holding up to his phone. although not his typical style, you were glad one of his solo activities included being the endorser for such a popular - and sexy - brand.

you finished folding first, so you adjusted yourself comfortably on your sofa and watched jungkook continue. jungkook took a glance at you and smiled to himself.

“what?” you questioned with a pout.

“you look cute,” he answered with a soft chuckle. you were cuddled up on your couch, encompassed snugly within a throw blanket jungkook had previously gifted you. you hid your face in your hands bashfully.

as he finished folding his clothes, jungkook opted to play some of his music recommendations through his television. he’d softly sing along as you listened intently, chiming in with short remarks here and there.

“i like this one,” you commented after one of the songs ended.

“ah! why don’t i just sing for you, my love?” he suggested suddenly with a teasing tone.

“ew, no, don’t call me that!” you replied with fake disgust. you and jungkook would typically just call one another by your names, so the sudden use of a nickname both surprised and flustered you.

“but go ahead then, mr. jeon.” you continued, previous shyness now replaced with an intrigued arrogance.

after quickly setting up his karaoke machine, jungkook then turned to you smugly with his microphone in hand. he started out his late night - or perhaps early morning - performance with a couple songs related to inside jokes the two of you shared. you watched fondly as jungkook happily sang along to the upbeat pop music.

“don’t go overboard and strain your voice,” you gently reminded him.

“of course, my love.” he teased you again, with a wink this time. you playfully shot him a repulsed look in response.

following his high-spirited warm-up session, he then transitioned to singing his own music. in an attempt to impress your world-class entertainer of a boyfriend, you would sing along using bts fanchants and passionately wave around an imaginary army bomb. jungkook - while still seated on his sofa - would mimic the choreography as he ventured through his groups’ discography.

after running through a couple bts tracks, jungkook then transitioned to serenading you with songs he knew were your favourites. you gazed at him warmly, now completely immersed in him and his voice. although you’d hear him speak practically every day, you never tired of his soft and angelic singing.

through your now heavy eyelids, you noticed your boyfriends’ energy start to deplete as well. he had stopped dancing and moving around as dynamically as earlier, now only swaying back and forth on his couch. you were still comfortably curled up on your couch, now fighting the urge to slip into an afternoon nap.

“are you getting sleepy?” he asked softly after finishing another song.

“no, not at all,” you mumbled, shaking your head at him with a pout.

“alright, you liar.” he taunted playfully. you noticed him place his microphone down beside him, perhaps signalling that he was finished with his karaoke performance.

“wait! one more song!” you cried out in a sudden panic. you didn’t want this moment of bliss to end so soon. the two of you hadn’t had such a long call together in a while, so you wanted to indulge in this moment as much as you could.

“please. just one more song.” you implored, trying to persuade him with forced “puppy dog eyes.”

jungkook conceded with a sly smile, picking up his microphone again. then, ever so swiftly, you heard a slow and soft tune start to play. you allowed yourself to close your eyes, completely immersing yourself in jungkook’s melodic and affectionate final serenade to you.

before the song even concluded, you had fully fallen asleep on your couch. jungkook noticed this, finishing up the song quietly so as to not wake you suddenly. his lips curled into a soft grin as he watched you fall deeper into your slumber.

after tidying up his living room, he made his way to his bedroom with the hopes of getting some rest of his own. he propped you up beside him on his bed, as if the two of you were sleeping next to one another.

then, before succumbing to his own heavy eyelids, he jokingly whispered into his phone: “by the way, i know you have my hoodie.”

but he hoped you hadn’t heard.

1K notes · View notes

snowfll · 5 months

Text

A Soldier I Will Be; Treech

pairing - Treech x mentor!reader summary - your one goal was to get him out of the arena, you didnt care what the Capital thought of you words - 2.54k warning - fluff! note - I am actually in love w Treech, there isn't enough fanfics about him on the internet so I decided to write my own! part 2 part 3

The day arrived for the reaping of the 10th annual Hunger Games, and you were far from excited. The games are cruel and unfair to district citizens, and your values set you apart from the heartless enthusiasm displayed by many in the Capitol.

Walking into the giant room filled with Academy students, you heard the whispers of those you passed. You learned to ignore everyone after years of being treated differently, but there were only two people you could tolerate: Sejanus Plinth and Coriolanus Snow.

“Ms. Graham, I'm glad you made it after all.” Sejanus Plinth, the only other person open about their hatred for the games.

“Oh, you know they would drag me into this either way, Sejanus.” He had previously warned you that the Plinth prize would not be awarded that day, and in its place, something that goes against everything the two of you stood for.

Although you voiced your opinions, you were still a capital sweetheart. As you come from one of the oldest and richest families in the capital, you were expected to act a certain way, despite your rebellious spirit.

Sitting between Coriolanus and Sejanus, you heard a throat being cleared, signaling the beginning of the reaping. Casca Highbottom, the one and only creator of Hunger Games, chugged down a vial of what looked to be morphling.

“The prize is a bit different this year. The top performing students will each receive a tribute, only one, and whichever tribute… performs the best, will receive the prize. Winning is set aside but will be taken into consideration…”

So this is what the capital had planned—put the capital kids in charge of the district kids? You couldn’t help but feel horrible for Sejanus, coming from the districts, he was bound to be given a tribute from his old home, District 2.

Dean Highbottom started announcing which student would mentor what district. When it came to Sejanus, you were right; they gave him the District 2 male tribute. Reaching over, you grabbed his hand in hopes of providing a sense of comfort. On multiple occasions, he has expressed to you how being from the districts has affected him.

“District 7 male,” you heard Highbottom pause before looking up to you, “belongs to Ms.Graham.”

Making your way to the big screen in front of you, you saw your tribute. He was staring straight into the camera, almost like he could sense you were watching him. ‘Treech’, you read below his figure. You couldn’t help but smile, but it was soon replaced with a frown once you saw the condition he was in.

You took in the image of the boy; he seemed your age—maybe 17 or 18? The hat he wore looked bent out of shape and covered his dark eyes. He looked as if he were about to scream or cry, and he was trying his hardest to act tough in front of his district. All you felt was pity and a sense of needing to help him survive.

After all the mentors were given their tribute and a speech from Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, the ceremony was brought to an end. Sejanus was called by his father, and he bid you goodbye. “I’m going to the tributes train arrival, and you’re coming with me." You jumped at the sudden voice and turned around to see Coriolanus staring at you.

“And why would I?” You crossed your arms, unsure why he wanted you, of all people, to accompany him. Sure, you were friends, but you didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on things, often bickering while Sejanus was there to calm you both down.

“The peacekeepers will let me in if you are with me,” he explained, knowing that most peacekeepers know not to mess with you. “They won’t turn you down; you’re the capital’s top sweetheart.”

It’s true; every peacekeeper knew of your existence and obeyed you in fear of upsetting your father. You didn’t like to take advantage of your capital status, but it did come in handy when you got into trouble.

“Fine,” you agreed, “but only on one condition: you leave me and my tribute alone.” Coriolanus nodded his head and explained that you two would meet at the train station the next morning before school.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Arriving at the station, you walked up to Coriolanus, who was already waiting there with a white rose in his hand. Groups of peacekeepers were stationed every few feet. Guns in hand, ready to shoot at any kind of violent nature.

A loud whistle was heard, causing your head to snap towards the track, where a large mechanical train began to slow. Once the train pulled into the station, you took notice of the carriages; there were 12, one for each district. The peacekeepers that once stood still were now making their way towards the train. Slowly, they began to open the carts, and tribute after tribute came out. As each tribute climbed off the train, you were on the lookout for ‘Treech’.

Passing by each cart and watching each pair climb down, you eventually found the pair from District 7. Lamina, whom you remembered as Pliny’s tribute, noticed you as you walked up to her. Her eyes were red from the tears that hadn’t stopped falling. You gave her a warm smile, which she returned, except there was a sad look in her eye.

“Who are you?” A voice called out from next to Lamina, and your face turned to see your tribute. He had placed a protective hand in front of his district partner, like you were going to hurt her. You felt sad at the fact that he thought you would hurt either of them.

Reaching your hand out, you told him your name, “But everyone calls me by my last name, Graham, so it’s up to you!” As he looked at your hand, hesitant to shake it, you realized you hadn’t explained why you were there. "Oh, right, I’m your mentor. Thought it was the right thing to come and introduce myself as you arrived in the capital."

“Well, I don’t need no mentor. I don’t want your help." He spat with a look of disgust in his eyes, causing you to lower your hand and stare awkwardly at the ground. You heard Lamina whispering to him something about how he should be nice to you. Looking up, you smiled at her again as a sign of thanks for being kind to you, even though she didn’t know you.

“I don’t have to be nice to her, Lamina, she’s from the capital." He looked at you up and down as if trying to prove his point with your outfit. You could understand why he was acting like that—if you were in his spot, you wouldn’t trust anyone from the capital.

“I am just here to help you; I don’t mean any harm." You saw his face start to soften but quickly change back to his sour expression once two peacekeepers appeared behind you and began to drag the pair towards a big van being filled with the other tributes. The two stared at you as you began to chase after them.

“Hey, where is that van taking them?" You called out to a peacekeeper, who just rolled his eyes and walked away from you. “Don’t ignore me.” Before you could walk back up to them, you felt someone grab your arm. You were ready to hit whoever it was, but you realized it was only Coriolanus.

“Just wait; once the peacekeepers aren’t looking, we will sneak into the van.” You nodded softly, praying that you were able to be by Treech’s side the entire time.

As you made your way into the van, you were pushed to the ground as it started to move. You saw many of the tributes staring at you and Coriolanus as the two of you stuck out like a sore thumb with your bright red uniforms. The tributes had threatened to attack the two of you, one of them even grabbing Coriolanus by his shirt. Fortunately, Lucy Gray stepped in for Coriolanus as Treech pulled you up off the floor once he saw you sitting there, afraid for your life. He stayed standing in front of you, with Lamina behind you, instead of going back to his spot, standing with his hand grabbing the bar above his head.

There was a sudden stop, causing everyone in the van to jerk forward before it began to tip over. Once the doors opened, everyone flew out, falling on the hard rocks. You groaned as you tumbled down, and you ended up landing next to Treech, who groaned as well. Noticing his hat was no longer on his head, you looked around before crawling to grab it for him. He muttered a quick thank you as he took it from your grasp.

“Where are we?” He questioned, seeming confused about where they were dumped. As you fully took in your surroundings, you gasped. The tall bars and the animal-like environment—they dumped everyone in the Capital Zoo.

“They are keeping you in the zoo? You guys are not animals. How could they do this?” You were beyond outraged. They force them to fight each other to death and don’t even give you a decent sleeping place.

Turning to Treech, you kept apologizing over and over, “I am so sorry about this; I had no idea they were going to keep you here.” He looked like he did when you saw him at the reaping, as if he were about to cry.

"Well, look over here; is that another Academy student I see?” The two of you turned your heads to see Lucky Flickerman and his camera crew on the opposite side of the bars. It looked as if he had just finished talking to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray. "Ahh, isn’t it, Ms. Graham? You're certainly a favorite here in the capital." You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not; either way, you walked over to him, dragging Treech behind you, who was protesting the action.

"Hello, Lucky, it is nice to see you again. Have you met my tribute yet? Treech, here, is quite the gentleman." You continued to talk him up to the camera while he just stood there behind you.

“It was amazing to speak to you, and thank you for introducing Treech to us, but it seems as if you are about to be whisked out of the cage.” He warned you as you turned around to see a peacekeeper making his way to you as another made his way to Coriolanus. To try and avoid any more violence, you stepped away from Treech as a sign of your cooperation, but the peacekeeper still grabbed you with a great deal of force.

“Don’t touch her like that." Treech yelled as the peacekeeper tightened his grip on your arm, “You’re going to hurt her.”

“They won’t even dare to hurt me; don’t you worry about me." You called after him as he looked at you with fear in his eyes. Lamina had to hold his arm to warn him not to go after you. “Take care of yourself; I will be back later today." The last thing you saw before you were forced to exit the enclosure was Treech giving you a hesitant smile. It was barely noticeable, but, you know, it took a lot for him to do it.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make it after school like many of your other classmates. By the time you arrived at the zoo, it was dark and everyone was already gone.

“Treech, where are you?” you whisper-yelled for him as you made your way to the bars. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier in the day; my father did not like the little stunt I pulled. I had to sneak out to be here.” As he made his way to where you were, you started to pull packages of food and water out of your bag.

“Did you bring anything for me?” He asked, sitting down, once he saw you cross your legs on the floor.

“I sure did. Tons of stuff." You began to list off everything you brought. “I even brought enough for Lamina, so be sure to share with her.” As you handed him everything, he turned around and tossed some of it into her lap.

“Did her mentor stop by?” You nodded your head towards Lamina. You were curious to see if Pliny would actually take on his role as a mentor or just sit back and let you do it, knowing you cared for them.

“He did for a few minutes, but she didn’t speak to him,” he sighed, remembering the event that occurred a few hours prior. “She only wanted to speak to you. She seems to trust you, but how do I know I can?” He asked, taking a bite of the cookie you brought him.

"Well, for starters, I made that cookie you are eating, and I don’t bake for just anyone,” you said as he bit into it again. “Secondly, I care about you. I don’t agree with how the capital treats the district.”

He looked at you like he didn’t expect you to feel that way. “You better not be lying to me, sweetie. Are you sure you aren’t in it for the money? We heard that man mention it to his camera earlier.”

“Oh, I don’t care for the prize; even if I win it, it just ties me down to the capital like I owe them something, and that is the last thing I want when I try and escape this hell.” One day, you were going to leave the capital; you truly were not meant for this place. You explained to him that you wanted to hide out in one of the districts and live out your life away from the capital.

“Whose side are you on? Are you a saint or a sinner, Ms. Graham?” He shot you a look before continuing. “I have a feeling the way you treat me isn’t going to be liked by the capital. I’ve grown quite fond of you, so I’d hate to see them turn against you in the comfort of your own home.”

“I don’t care if the capital hates me for protecting you. It doesn’t matter if they won’t take me back, Treech; all I care about is getting you out of this.” You grabbed his hand through the bar to provide comfort. At that moment, he knew you weren’t lying, but just for safe measure, you spoke up again.

“I’ll throw away my status, just to keep you safe.”

The relationship between you and Treech evolved from mentor and tribute to something deeper. Bonds formed in the face of distress were not easily broken, and you both found strength in each other.

As the 10th annual Hunger Games continued, the Capitol was about to witness a different kind of uprising—one fueled by empathy, compassion, and a shared desire for freedom. And at the center of it all was the unexpected alliance between a Capitol sweetheart and a district tribute determined to defy the odds.

580 notes · View notes

saatorubby · 6 months

Text

the lakes

synopsis: you won’t die, not on their watch.

a/n: hi hi, i’m starting to write for jjk too! so i hope to you all like this. and i’m trying a new style? actually putting in effort? I’m actually so ill about these two divorced gay boys who broke up in front of kfc. also bunch of different taylor swift song references, bear with me, it has consumed my soul.

genre: angst to fluff.

pairing: satosugu x reader

warnings: gore (mild), death and murder (in reference to hidden inventory arc), depression (lowkey).

I: 2008

You were dying. It was the plain and simple fact.

You might’ve tried to convince yourself that it’d turn out fine if it wasn’t for the gaping wound in your stomach. It was less a wound and more a hole.

You think you saw your rib cage poking out.

You were already feeling light headed, on the verge of passing out. If it went like this, you reckon you don’t have more than half an hour.

You pull out your phone, taking a minute to linger on the photo set as your Lock Screen. It was of you and your lovers, Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto, often dubbed as the strongest. If you’d had a dying wish, it would be to see them once more. But the world was a cruel, cruel place.

You slumped back on the wall as your mind flashed back to when everything went so wrong.

You were sitting in the backseat of the car, which was being driven by one of your old friends, ichiji, making small talk with him. Lately you hadn’t had time to devote to your friends. It had been a busy year.

“y/n-san?” Ichiji called after he saw you zone out, looking outside the window of the car, absent-mindedly admiring the scenic view of the countryside Tokyo. “We’re here.” He stated.

You zoned back in and nodded to Ichiji, thanking him for taking you out on this far, almost a half-day trip. You stepped out of the sleek black car.

You faced the apperent ‘haunted’ house. It was fairly big, could’ve passed as a mansion, if it wasn’t in such a shabby shape.

It was battered as if no one had lived in it for decades, which they probably hadn’t. The wood that would’ve been previously stately, were now rotten and unsightly.

You scrunched your nose in disgust, the smell of the dead never really leaves the house.

With a heavy sigh, you entered, ready to get this done and over with so you could go back to your stupid dumbasses and give them the date you promised.

You entered, the creek of the door was as ominous as ever. It was surprising that it was even hanging from from the hinges, judging by the condition. The inside of house was no better.

The walls were mossy, damp, and rotting. There was rubble in the ground from some places, with no roof, indicating the fallen ceiling.

This is one of the worst place you’ve worked in. But you’ve worked in worse. So you closed your eyes and sensed for its cursed energy. Everyone leaves residual, some people can hide it -like Suguru- but most can’t, and considering it’s a first grade, it probably can’t.

And bingo, you found-

A splatter sound was heard and something collided with your head, you pushed your arm, towards your head, and there it was, the red sticky substance of life, pouring out of your head

You turned around, eyes widened in surprise. It was not just the first grade.

Shit.

Now, you’ve somehow managed to defeat it, slumped on the same mossy and damp wall the one you scrunched your nose at earlier, with your legs splayed out, one hand clutching on your wound -the one on your stomach- holding it tightly, and in the other hand, your phone, displaying the picture of your two loves.

Ah, you really wished you could see them.

The picture was of a late-night adventure where all of you went to get ice cream. Satoru is grinning widely, with his signature peace sign and Suguru has an annoyed expression, no doubt due to some stupid comment passed by Satoru, though the softness of his eyes betrayed him, with a middle finger pointed at the camera. You were between them, taking the picture, with a smile on your face.

You smiled at them, tracing their faces on your phone before you felt the black spots appearing in your vision.

You had a feeling it’d end up like this. It always does, for people in your line of work. You just wished for what everyone wished for, a little more time.

Oh how you wished to go to the lakes where all the poet’s went to die. But as you thought, the world was a cruel, cruel place.

The phone in your hand slipped.

And so did you.

II: 2007

It’s been more than a year since you got to know those weirdos in your grade and the pretty girl. Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri.

Blue eyes and bangs. That’s what you called them. Or well, used to until it turned into a pretty, soft-spoken, Satoru and Suguru. The journey from former to latter wasn't a long one but you sometimes wonder whether you've known them for twenty seconds or twenty years.

Satoru was an exhilarating fresh breeze on your face on a windy day, full of adventure and new experiences and Suguru was the warmth of soft sun on a beach, relaxing and familiar. Satoru was your twenty seconds and Suguru was twenty years.

it had been a month since Riko Amanai died.

You think something in you died when you saw that child die. And those claps, that fucking sound haunted your ears still. The booming sound of the gun fired by toji fushiguro, the claps, and the innocent trip to the beach just a day before, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Because it wasn't just a child who had died, that child was your friend.

You think you're spiraling.

Every day is a routine. You wake up, greet your friends half-heartedly, go exorcise curses, come back late, and go straight to bed, not having enough energy to deal with anything or anyone.

You know Suguru is not well. You think you should talk to him. Satoru, he'll survive.

Maybe you're being too harsh, but this is all Satoru has ever known, what he was ever taught. He doesn't know how normal people live, or the joys of having a normal life. He won't do anything stupid.

Suguru knows how normal people live. And in their lives, children aren't murdered brutally.

But you want Satoru to explore normal life. Coffee in the morning, sweet spoken, sleepy mumbles, sunlight through the window pouring in the room, and writing their names on each other's backs.

You want him to explore all that. With you and Suguru.

So you've decided. Enough is enough. No more moping. You will do anything to keep this small family you've built with your friends.

I: 2008

Blinding white lights, thats all you saw as you first felt conscious. Maybe, you died for real this time, no second chances huh? But as it seems, eternal rest was not what destiny planned for you.

You open your eyes, blinking to get used to the flash of light. It was already giving you a headache. You groaned.

You heard panicked shouts and bustling, as a melodious female voice entered your ears to calm the other two distressed male ones.

You recognized them. Also, it means that you're in deep shit.

Regretting your choices and foreboding sleeping on the couch for a week, you open your eyes.

"Water." Croaking out that, sent you to a fit of cough, though, your savior appeared in the form of a rough set of hands that were holding you up, strong and tanned. Other, fairer, a bit lanky, but just as strong, held up a glass of after to your mouth, cupping your cheek to keep you in place.

You gulp down the water, reveling in the feeling of soothing cold water going down your dry throat.

You blink your eyes fully open, seeing the distraught faces of your lovers. Satoru, who was in front of you, holding an empty glass, looked like he'd been crying. His pretty eyes lined red.

Suguru, who after making sure you were sitting on the bed comfortably, came in front of you and sat down opposite Satoru. He didn't look much better, his face was unhealthy pale and he had bags under his eye.

You couldn't help but smile. Maybe the world isn't that cruel yet

"Hi." You croaked out, not being able to help a small bashful smile that made its way over to your face despite the graveness of the situation.

You were just so happy to see them.

"Hi, pretty." Satoru smiled in your direction. It was strained and wobbly, but even he couldn't hide the relief in his voice. He raised his hand and rested it on your cheek, caressing it.

Suguru came up and took your hands in his, softly squeezing them. "You scared us, baby." He said, gazing into your eyes with his misty ones.

"I'm sorry." Your hoarse voice groaned out, the smile was still ever-present on your face, though the feeling of remorse was there as well.

When you look at their faces, relieved and ridden of all the darkness, you think that maybe, maybe, you were able to save your family.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #suguru geto #geto suguru #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #poly satosugu #gojo x reader x geto #poly satosugu x reader

954 notes · View notes

inuyashaluver · 6 months

Note

hey idk if u still take requests but i got an idea (if u don't just delete the ask, I understand xd). Leah and R recently got married but R kept on playing with her lastname on the jersey still. But on one international break R (plays for a different nation, like idk Germany or Spain) and decided to put Williamson on her back as a surprise for Leah who is watching with her family/or team. Leah at first is confused about it and thinks its a mistake in the line up but then the camera zooms in on R with Williamson printed on the back, so she of course gets super emotional about it + maybe even getting a little teased for it ;) ps. love your writing (especially the leah fics) a lot so keep up the great work <3 (kiss cam was mad cute btw)

surprise - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your wife sees your shared last name on your jersey for the first time

warnings: swearing

a/n: oh my goodness! thank you so much for the request and the love for my fics, i really appreciate it!! hope you enjoy xxx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your wife, leah had been married for a little over a year after being partners for 6 years prior. it wasn’t a secret that you took on the williamson last name, however, on all your jerseys, it remained (y/l/n), taking so long because you don’t have the time to change it as quick as you would like.

you were working on changing it without leah’s knowledge, but it didn’t really faze her, she was confident in your relationship and you didn’t need to be labelled by her last name to be her wife. in her head, you’ve been her wife the first day she asked you to be her girlfriend.

you both played together at arsenal, where the both of you met and blossomed in love. however, you both play for different national teams, you for spain and her for england. this didn’t affect your relationship in a bad way, instead, it was good for it. you loved to tease each other about which team was better, who would win against each other and more. both of you were professionals, leaving everything on the pitch and not bringing into your personal lives.

it just worked, the two of you couldn’t explain it but it did. you and leah had a lot of love and respect for each other, both of you supporting each other’s national careers and arsenal careers.

—

it was national break, leah had already played in her group, the lionesses winning their group stage for the qualifiers. you had gone to each of leah’s games, her doing the same for you - wearing each other’s jerseys with bright grins and putting pride to the side, wanting to support your significant other.

as soon as leah had completed her group stages, you had your final match for your own group, deciding to bring keira and georgia along with her. your family were there, with leah, sitting in the family and friends section talking and laughing with each other before the game starts. before the teams come out, the announcer shares the starting line ups. leah was watching the screen excitedly, ready to see her pretty girl, each player gets an individual video of themselves with their names on the screen.

“number eight, (y/n) williamson!” her claps and cheers slow when she sees ‘williamson’ on the big screen, supported by your face in your jersey. her eyebrows quirk in confusion, she turns to your family and asks if they know anything about the ‘mistake’ but they offer her fake confusion, claiming they knew nothing of it. leah furrows her brows and looks at keira and georgia, who also shrug with a smirk. she sits forward on her chair, elbows resting on her thighs, her stern football face on full display waiting for you to come out.

she focuses her attention on the tunnel, waiting to see the back of your jersey, that’s when she sees it, ‘8 - williamson’ she immediately covers her mouth with her hands, letting out multiple tears when she sees you. she looks over to your family but they were already smiling at her brightly, recording her reaction for you to watch later.

she lets out a wet laugh, she can’t take her eyes off you, smiling with so much adoration. she knew you had her last name, she’s seen you wear her jersey, but she wanted to collapse at the thought of her girl finally having her last name officially on your jersey rather than hers, not realising how much this meant for her.

keira and georgia jump up and down, clapping leah on the shoulder and hyping her up. she’s still in disbelief, standing up with her hands on her head, looking at you with a big smile. she could tell that you were searching for her in the section, you spot the group of your family, your wife and some of your best friends. while waiting in line for the national anthems to play, you quickly wave at them, blowing a kiss in their direction. leah lets out a quick giggle, slightly pink in the cheeks.

“captain leah is a bit of a simp huh, g?” keira smirks, pretending to talk to georgia but directing it right at leah.

“who would have thought we would see leah weak at the knees because of her own last name, kei?” georgia mocks with a matching smirk

“both of you shut up” she sends them the captain’s glare but they just can’t stop, choosing to tease their friend for the duration of the match.

—

every time you got the ball, leah leaned forward in her seat, analysing your every move and whispering under her breath, “come on, baby”. she nods her head when you pass, smiling when you do something well. leah could see from the corner of her eyes her two best friends recording her and taking photos of her, knowing they would share them with you to make fun of her but she just didn’t care, she focused her entire attention on you and you only.

the whistle signals the end of the first half, spain was in the lead by 3 goals to 1, one of them an assist from you. leah watches as you walk towards the tunnel with your water bottle, you make eye contact with her, smiling excitedly at her. she returns the gesture, blowing you a quick kiss, grinning as you return the favour before returning to the change room.

her grin disappears when she looks over at her friends, them making kissy faces at her. she shakes her head, turning to chat with your family instead, the girls still teasing her behind her back. when you come back out of the tunnel with your team for the second half, her breath hitched seeing you in your jersey again, you looked absolutely breathtaking to her. about 5 minutes into the second half, you decide to take a risk, wanting to impress your fans as well as your wife.

you get the ball from aitana, running from the midfield and taking the shot. leah knows you can shoot from a distance like this, practising with you back at home, this doesn’t mean she’s not absolutely freaking out, her hands covering her mouth again watching you. the ball curves from your foot, landing in the top right of the box, the keeper just missing it. you scream in celebration, running towards aitana and celebrating while the rest of your team jump on top of you.

leah, your family and her two best friends were jumping up and down screaming. leah having the biggest smile on her face, only growing wider seeing your bright smile with ‘williamson’ on your back.

you quickly run towards the friends and family section again, blowing a big kiss towards leah and everyone else. in the corner of your eye, you spot the camera man filming you, you gesture them to come closer to you, spinning around and showing your back, then holding up the number one while smiling brightly. leah slightly tears up from your goal but her tears fall again at your celebration on the big screen, that was her wife, she literally couldn’t believe it.

the game concludes 4-1 win for spain. your team does a victory lap and you move around taking pictures and giving signatures when you feel familiar, strong arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. you laugh gleefully when you’re placed back down. turing around quickly and jumping on leah, she quickly catches you by your thighs, holding you tightly against her body.

she looks up at you with a bright grin,

“mrs williamson, you evil woman!” she mocks,

“what do you mean, mrs williamson?” you joke with a smirk,

“you look beautiful with our name on your back, baby, couldn’t take my eyes off you” you smile sheepishly as her, cupping her face and pressing a gentle kiss on her lips, she whines when you pull away to speak to her.

“so you liked my surprise, mi amor (my love)?” you tilt your head to the side, already knowing the answer based on how tightly she’s holding you and how pink her cheeks are.

“i-” she starts, interrupted busy her two best friends, forming a circle around you, linking their hands and rotating around the two of you.

“oh definitely more than like, (y/n/n), she’s a proper fan!” georgia says with a laugh

“oh yeah, the girl was fangirling so hard like she didn’t marry you” keira adds, laughing hard with georgia.

leah looks up at you sternly, placing you on the ground, giving you a tight lipped smile and a quick kiss on your lips. “excuse me for a minute, baby?” you hesitantly nod at her. the two girls already know their fate, running away as quick as they could with leah hot on their trail. you shake your head at them, going to spend some time with your family before they left.

you took leah into the change room with you after saying goodbye to everyone, leah was taking you home after this. when you get inside, you peel off the shirt and throw it next to you, leah rushing forward and picking it up and dusting it off.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she exclaims and holds the jersey to her chest offendedly,

“what-” you look at her confused,

“do you understand how special this is!” she starts, scoffing at your confused face, “you think i’m going to let my wife’s first williamson jersey get dirty when i’m going to frame it and hang it up in the house?” you laugh loudly at her, stopping when she gives you a glare, realising she wasn’t joking.

“mi amor (my love), it’s already dirty! i’ve been sweating in it for 90 minutes, i can get you a new one-” she shakes her head at you, “don’t try me, williamson” neatly folding up the jersey and holding it close to her. you smile at her, grabbing her around the neck and pulling her down into a hug, she quickly reciprocates, running her hands up and down your now exposed waist.

she lets you go quickly shower, coming out dressed completely head to toe in her clothes, you were killing her. has she seen you in her clothes all the time?, yes. did she marry you? yes. she still had the same reaction as she first did, both of you so completely in love with each other, it was sickening.

leah kept her word and framed your jersey, you convincing her to do the same with hers and hanging them side by side in your living room. now everyone knows the superstar couple, the williamsons were inseparable.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

just pretend it’s youuu - ily lia!

liked by stanwaygeorgia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: back from national camp with my baby, the williamsons are back in action!

view all comments

yourname: williamson supremacy, baby!

↳ leahwilliamsonn: fuck yeah

stanwaygeorgia: simp

↳ keirawalsh: simp

↳ leahwilliamsonn: uh, duh, have you seen her?

↳ yourname: stop it, i’m blushing

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh yeah?

↳ keirawalsh: MY EYES

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

944 notes · View notes

stupidlovergirl · 1 year

Text

Picture Perfect

They catch the fact that your lockscreen is a picture of them. Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dev Notes: I think its really cute when friends and couples have each other as home screens.

Lucifer doesn't like when people take photos, so imagine his surprise when he sees a picture of himself on a factory tour you two had taken a few weeks ago, smiling softly. he wonders when you took it, but he can't be mad, though. Not at you. When you come in looking for phone, Lucifer pretends he hasn't seen anything, but he knows when you unlock your phone and smile, your smiling at him.

When you asked Mammon to get your phone and tell Luke you'd be a minute or two late for your grocery trip, he'd didn't think he'd see a photo of him from a recent photo shoot. It was for a sneaker ad, with the camera closer to the ground, but still catching all of him. He was smiling cockily at the camera, sharp teeth on display. He knew you had liked it, but not this much. He's blushing, and it takes him a few moments to remember why he even had your phone. Quickly sending the text and giving you the phone, you knew he had seen with the red that covered his face. You just smiled and shook your head.

Leviathan changes his lock screen a lot. Every week, it changes to a different anime character he has became obsessed with. So imagine his surprise when instead of you having something similar, or just a pretty picture, it was him. It was from a con a few weeks ago. It was a photo of him and you in a group cosplay you two had done. He's smiling big, and so are you. Your looking more at him than the camera, with love in your eyes. It makes him flustered even thinking about it. Levi goes on to do what you had asked him. You didn't have the time to do your dailies, so you gave Levi your phone and just do whatever he wanted. You knew must have taken it to heart when the next time you have Levi's phone, you see a picture of yourself looking back.

Satan doesn't really change his lock screen, currently it's just a picture of a cat he has recently seen on the street that he has been feeding. Yet when he opened to look at your phone, he was surprised to see a picture of himself from a recent visit to a cat cafe. He was surrounded by the cats, smiling ear to ear. It makes him happy, thinking about the experience, and it makes him feel sentimental just seeing that you wanted to see him so much that you had set it to your home screen. You ask him was got his attention, and he turns to you and brings you into a hug. "Nothing, just thinking about how cute you are". It doesn't make sense until you see over his shoulder the photo of you kissing a kitty.

Asmodeus had just asked to see the photos you had taken of him from a event you two had attended the night before. When you gave him your phone, he unlocked it a couldn't help but gasp. "Oh! Your so cute!!" he squeals, going to hug you. You laughed at him.

"Asmo! What's this about!" you laugh, feeling his the kisses quickly pressed against your face and neck.

"A picture of me as your home screen! Just from the night before! You just love seeing me that much?" he teases, looking you with a smile

"Of course! Why wouldn't I want to see the most attractive demon in the Devildom every chance I got?" Asmo squeals and goes into another kiss attack

Beelzebub's phone was dead, so you had just given him yours to order his meal on AkUber on. "Just make sure to change the payment! I don't think I have enough to pay for your food on my card, love" is all you had told him. So when he had opened your phone and hit the app, he was satisfied with ordering he closed it. It was only then did he realize your home screen. It was a picture of him from a recent date night you two had. He was eating a pudding, smiling and a sparkle in his eye. It makes him smile. When he hands you your phone back, he places a kiss on your forehead and makes a mental note to change his to one of you so your matching.

Belphegor didn't even change his background from the basic one you get when you buy the phone. So he felt kind of bad when he saw a picture of him, sleeping in your bed, and even wearing your clothes. It makes him blush, and even feel a little shy. It is the simple things that make him feel your love,and the fact that you want to see him enough that you changed your lock screen to him it makes him feel giddy. He will never tell you, and you'll only figure it out if you have his phone yourself, but he also changes his lock screen to you also. He understands why you did it after, because seeing you never fails to make him smile.

#lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obswd x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x you #leviathan x you #satan x you #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x you #belphegor x you #obey me x you #obmswd x you #bunny's.game.collection

2K notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

Protect and Forget // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything in life did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, angst (LOTS!), fluff, smut, death threats, crying/anxiety, begging, alcohol consumption, confrontation, arguing (kinda), hurt/comfort, body worship, oral sex (m and f), fingering, anal, double penetration, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, size difference, praise kink, squirting

Words: 9k (oops)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Steve and Bucky had been counting down to your birthday for the past month, leaving small hints for whatever it was that they were planning. This included travelling to a special destination and a multitude of surprises you could never even dream of. However, life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything in life did not always go to plan.

Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. Luckily it only came in the form of a note, filled with threats and promises that neither of the boys would allow you to read. Nothing in the world was more important to them than your safety, this had been a priority since day one so this mean that for your protection, you were secured inside of your house until the target could be eliminated.

It wasn’t so bad, to begin with as the house you shared with Steve and Bucky was grand and the garden was your pride and joy but you were even banned from a simple walk. Even though there were multiple guards, cameras and security protecting the property, it was better to be safe than sorry in their eyes.

The loneliness only began to bother you on day 8. Like clockwork, as the morning alarms began to sound, Steve and Bucky would kiss your cheeks simultaneously before rolling out of bed, changing and leaving to continue their hunt to find whoever had threatened their girl, only returning in the early hours of the morning as you were fast asleep in bed. Luckily your bodyguard was stationed outside and he would regularly come in to check on you, spending hours talking about anything and everything just to keep you from going completely insane.

On the 13th day, you’d made it your mission to try and stay awake for the boys returning, a steady excitement humming in your stomach as it struck midnight and your birthday had officially begun! Then it was 1 am rolling around… and then 2 am, and still no sign of the boys or even a message. By the time 3 am was displayed on your phone screen, your eyes were almost burning with exhaustion, leaning your head on the couch arm, you began to drift into a light sleep from where you waited in the living room.

The light sleep soon deepened, enough so that you didn’t wake as Steve carried your sleeping body to bed as the mafia leader and his best friend returned at 4 am.

All three of you groaned as the phone alarm rang at 6 30am, the repetitive kiss on your cheek soon following the silencing of the alarm. Instead of falling back to sleep, you found yourself frowning, blinking a few times to clear the blur from your sight and then rolled over to look at them both. Neither seemed to acknowledge your questioning stare as they continued to get ready to leave.

“Steve…”, your voice was timid as you began to climb out of bed, sheets tangling in your limbs as you moved through the soft material.

The mafia leader’s head turned in your direction, eyebrows raised with surprise at seeing you awake. Steve finished buttoning his crisp white shirt as he approached the edge of the bed where you waited on your knees, his large hand enclosing around yours as you reached for him. “Morning baby, lie back down and get some more sleep”, he encouraged, his voice rough from its first use of the day.

Your shoulders dropped as you took him in, not realising just how much you had missed him and Bucky, both of whom had deep purple circles around their eyes through exhaustion but you could tell that just from the way that they were standing. You’d originally intended to find out if they were staying, it was your birthday after all and even though all the promises of travelling and presents were no longer happening, seeing them actually preparing to leave was not what you had expected. Your gut twisted in despair, feeling overwhelming guilt at being so selfish for thinking this, they were going above and beyond for your protection and safety but right now, you just wanted them to rest or even just acknowledge that it was your birthday, just some form of normality.

“Are you both really going in? I feel like I’ve hardly seen either of you”, you swallowed down the hope, trying to reach further up Steve’s body to hold onto his shoulders, attempting to pull him close.

Steve smiled sadly down at you, fingers gently easing around your wrists to pull himself free of your grasp. “I know Sweetheart, I’m sorry. We’ve found a trail of his whereabouts near Manhattan that we’ve been scoping overnight. We just need to get this son of a bitch and we’ll return to happy families”.

You knew he was trying to make you better but it only confirmed the reality that they were once again both leaving for the day, your birthday. Had they forgotten? Or was it not as much of a big deal anymore that you had a special day, a day that was only once a year? Yes, there was a threat against you but it wasn’t like they were both doing the surveillance, surely this one day one or both of them could stay.

“I don’t think we’ll be much longer”, Steve continued, easing your body back onto the bed. “Get some more sleep, maybe see if Sam wants to watch one of your movies later, and order some takeout, make sure you use my card”. Giving a chaste kiss on your forehead, he returned to his section of the wardrobe, pulling out a navy tie, wrapping it around his neck and exiting the bedroom.

Before you could allow the sadness to take over, Bucky was approaching, wearing the same outfit as Steve’s except the shirt and tie were both black. “We’ll be back before you know it Doll, get some more sleep, get enough for the both of us”, he tried to joke but the light didn’t reach his eyes as he too kissed your temple and walked out of the bedroom door.

They were actually leaving, without so much as a proper good morning kiss or a ‘how are you?’, let alone a happy birthday. Attempting to still keep the tears at bay, you were swift to climb out of bed, following them out of the bedroom and down the stairs, seeing them both already at the front door, preparing to leave.

“Can’t one of you stay today? Just for one day?” your voice was laced with desperation as you paced towards them, hands reaching to grip the back of Bucky’s shirt. The man sighed sadly, expecting this from you at some point, there was only so long you could be kept inside, not realising that you were also upset about them missing your birthday.

Bucky turned to rest his hands against the top of your arms, pulling you away slightly so he could look into your eyes. You had to quickly bite your lip to hide the quiver as more sadness rocked through you at seeing the sympathy in the crystal blue eyes looking down at you, already knowing that there wasn’t any way that either Bucky or Steve were planning on staying with you today.

“Sorry honey, we really need to get this sorted so we can get back to normal. How about we call you later? Can have a catch-up then, how does that sound?”

A phone call. You’d been promised a holiday, surprises and most importantly, time with just Steve and Bucky without work interfering and now, all you were receiving on your birthday was a phone call.

“I miss you both”, your eyes flicked before both men as they looked down at you, hoping for something, any kind of hope that they would stay but you already knew nothing was going to happen. Steve leaned over Bucky first, kissing your cheek, waiting a moment for Bucky to do the same before twisting open the door handle.

Bucky moved you out of the way of the open door, keeping you hidden from the outside world, still trying to protect you as he also kissed your cheek quickly once more, “We miss you too, we’ll talk later. I love you”. You didn’t respond, too scared of completely breaking down and not even knowing what to really say. So to try and refrain from guilt-tripping them with your tears, you held your breath, the technique used to suppress your emotions.

Turning on the spot, Bucky followed after his boss, shutting and locking the front door behind him and then you were once again all by yourself.

The air you’d been holding rushed out of your lungs as you released a heavy sob, the tears openly flowing down your cheeks now. It was one of those cries where you were almost choking on your breaths, ribs aching from trying to keep control and not hyperventilate but it was no use.

You cried and cried. For the loneliness. The silence in the house. The lack of touch and affection that you were craving. Even forgetting your birthday, something as menial as this still had you feeling devastated. There was nothing Steve and Bucky ever forgot about you, always being their sole focus. But now, your protection had become an obsession to the point where they were almost neglecting you and even themselves, with minimal sleep, you weren’t even sure of the last conversation that you’d truly had with either of them.

You stayed on your knees at the front door for over an hour, curled up in a ball and releasing all of the pent-up emotions but now that you had started, you couldn’t stop. But as your knees started to ache against the solid oak flooring, you forced yourself to stand and get a hold of yourself.

This only meant instead of crying downstairs, you were now crying in your bedroom, the sheets pushed to the end of the bed and your body still curled into a ball. Not even bothering to catch the falling tears you allowed the front of your pyjama shirt to take the honours of being your makeshift tissue and become soaked through on your chest.

Eventually, your sobs subsided, your eyes red and sore and feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep and turmoil of emotions.

Then suddenly the front door was opened, your heart thundering in the small hopes of the boys returning but then your bodyguard, Sam Wilson’s voice shouted from the floor below. “Boss lady? Where you at?”

Was it already midday? Glancing at your phone that was next to the bed still, your eyes widen to see that hours had already passed by unnoticed by you. In a rush, you were out of bed, trying not to stumble on your weak knees from being in the squished position for so long, and quickly hiding in the en suite bathroom, locking the door for safe measure.

You didn’t want Sam to see you like this, so hiding was the best option, even as you continued to silently cry, having had your hopes spiked for a second that they’d remembered what day it was and once again being let down.

“Sweetheart? You in there?” Sam asked on the other side of the door.

Trying to steady your breathing, you responded and hoped that your voice didn’t crack or give away the fact that you had been crying all morning. “Yeah, won’t be long.”

“Good, I’ve got a special cake out here that’s dying to be eaten!” You could hear the joy in Sam’s smile as you leaned against the door, the cool wood soothing your slightly swollen face from the immense crying.

“Cake?” you asked in a small voice, nearly a whisper.

“Yeah, a cake! Wouldn’t be a proper birthday celebration without cake, am I right?”

“You remembered…”.

Sam frowned at the bathroom door, noting the sadness in your voice, instinctively he stepped closer, “Of course, I remembered sweetheart, is everything ok in there?”

Your lip wobbled as fresh tears began to coat your face, “no…”. There was no point hiding it, otherwise, you’d be stuck in the bathroom all day and you needed to be with someone, not wanting to waste any more time by yourself

Unlocking the bathroom door, you opened it slowly, peeking around it to see Sam standing there. In one hand he held a gift bag and the string to an oversized birthday balloon, and in the other hand, he held what looked to be a chocolate cake with your name written across in cursive white icing. The smile dropped on his face as he saw your distraught, quickly placing the objects in his hands onto one of the dressers, letting the balloon float to the ceiling and then he was wrapping his arms around you.

You were instantly sobbing into his chest, hands desperately grabbing his shirt scared that he might disappear and leave you like everyone else seemed to be doing.

Sam rested one hand against your back, rubbing soothing circles and the other on the back of your head, keeping you close to his chest, giving you the time to let your emotions out. “Shh it’s ok, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere”.

He was so comforting and calm, but then he always was. Bucky used to be this crutch for you in times like this as he was previously your bodyguard but as your relationship with him shifted, you ended up becoming close friends with Sam.

Sam had already deduced what was wrong, from his quick glance around the house downstairs and the on his way up, with the lack of decorations and that he knew Steve and Bucky had vacated the house first thing in the morning, they definitely had forgotten about your birthday.

“Take a deep breath for me, that’s it, and another one. Keep breathing for me, sweetheart. Can’t have you crying on your birthday now can I?” It took a few attempts but you were able to slowly calm your breathing down until only small hiccups remained.

Sam pulled back from the hug first, moving instead to duck his head and cup your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained on your first.

You laughed in embarrassment, trying to hide your face but he didn’t allow it so you just held onto his wrists, feeling ashamed, especially as you saw the mess left behind on his shirt, cringing at the sight. “I’ve ruined your shirt, I’m sorry”.

“I don’t mind, makes me unique to everyone else”, he joked for a moment before becoming more series, his facial features relaxing in empathy. “Did they forget about today?”

You quickly bite your bottom lip, feeling the emotions stirring once more. “Yeah, but it’s... It’s fine! I know they’re busy trying to keep me safe but… I feel like I haven’t seen them in weeks. I hate being stuck in here! I mean, this is the first hug I’ve had since they received that stupid letter, they’ve spent so much time at the office and then tired when they get back and I’m asleep anyway so I never get to see them. I haven’t even kissed their lips in two weeks Sam!”

Once you started your ranting, it all just came flooding out. At first, you were tentative with what you were saying, that guilt still lingering in your gut but the more you thought about it, the angrier you were becoming. Yes, you were in danger but that didn’t mean they couldn’t come home and wake you up, kiss your lips or even hug you properly.

As you came to the end of your rant, you had to take a deep breath, completely filling your lungs with air and then breathing out through your mouth, feeling the tension easing throughout your body.

“Better?” Sam asked referring to your rant, you nodded your head in response. “Good, come on let's go and eat cake and have a chat”.

You were on your second slice of delicious cake, a happy smile on your face finally, chocolate always made you feel happy though. Sam chuckled at your appearance, filling your glass of water that you’d downed in a few glugs, not realising just how thirsty you were.

“I’m not going to try and make excuses for my bosses for the way they’ve been acting but speaking as their friend, they’re scared. Scared of losing you and I know you understand that but from the brief times that I’ve seen them outside or on the phone, I just think that they don’t want to spend too much time here because they don’t want to get their hopes up that everything is ok. You make them feel whole and safe so spending less time with you, it's taking away that security for them, maybe they don’t want to relax and have affection when that asshole is still out there. Now, don’t repeat this to them because I’d like to keep my job but it’s a dumb way to go about this all, clearly. I don’t think they realised just how long it would take to find whoever sent that message to you”.

Sam’s explanation made sense to you. Steve and Bucky had never hidden their intense love for you, and would constantly remind you that they would do absolutely anything to keep you safe. They were proving this now but spending every hour physically possible to find whoever was trying to find you but the small punishment to themselves that they couldn’t hug or even kiss wasn’t just a negative for them but for you as well. You needed them just as much as they needed you.

It was a pitiful circle and today had been the icing on top of the cake, ironically.

“That makes sense”, you responded after another thoughtful bite of chocolate cake, already eyeing up a third slice, you were starving after having no breakfast or lunch. “So what should I do? Leave them to it? What if they don’t find whoever is doing this for weeks? I don’t think I can go that long without seeing them properly but then I also don’t want to confront them if this is their way of coping.” You admitted with a deflated tone. Even though you wanted nothing more than to call them and tell them to come home and simply just kiss and hold you but then you didn’t want to complain when everything they were doing was for your benefit in the long run.

“Well why don’t we-”, Sam was cut off as his phone began to ring loudly from his pocket. Pulling the device out, he saw ‘BOSS’ written across the screen. “Say his name and he will appear”, he joked before stepping away to answer the phone, not stopping until he was outside with the back door closed so you couldn’t hear the phone call. You didn’t think anything of it, knowing that it was probably just an update about the day, the same phone call that was had every day.

Lifting the phone to his ear, Sam was about to talk when Steve was cutting him off, “We’ve got him”.

Sam’s shoulders dropped along with the heavy breath he released. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yeah, his handwriting matched the letter and with some persuasion from Buck, he admitted to it. Scumbags excuse was that was the golden ticket to get to me, well he was damn right about that” Steve growled into the phone and faintly in the background, the man in question was begging for his life as Bucky brutalised him, something he had been hoping to do for two weeks. “We’ve actually got that asshole, Sam!”

“Thank god”, Sam sighed in relief, rubbing his eyes, looks like everyone was going to be sleeping well tonight.

“How is she?” Steve asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking about his next words carefully. You had made it clear that you didn’t want them worrying about how sad you were but then on the other hand, he was your bodyguard, and your best interest was key. Also, they’d caught the guy so would be coming home to return to the normality they were all desperate for.

“Sam?” Steve asked with more authority, his shoulders squaring up as he glanced toward Bucky who had stopped his skilled knife movements to look back at him, wondering why Sam wasn’t answering.

“She’s not good, Boss”.

“And what do you mean by that?” Steve asked, storming out of the interrogation room and away from the asshole's ears, not wanting him to hear. Bucky followed swiftly behind, wanting to know what was wrong with his girl. “What do you mean not good?” Steve repeated, putting his phone on speaker so Bucky could hear.

Sam sighed again, tilting his head back to look at the sky before checking that the back door was still closed and you weren’t within earshot. “Listen, Boss, I understand you’ve been busy and I’m so fucking happy you’ve caught the bastard who threatened her but she’s not good. She’s been crying all day, it took nearly 10 minutes for me to calm her down as she was hyperventilating. She misses you both. She also does understand why you’ve both been reluctant to be around her and getting your hopes up for things being ok but god damn, I haven’t seen her cry like this in years.”

Steve and Bucky were overridden with guilt, not realising just how much they had been pushing you away with their desperation to find the guy responsible for this entire situation.

“That’s not the only thing…”, Sam continued with a tone of regret that he actually had to tell them this.

“Go on Sam”, Steve encouraged, it couldn’t get any worse, right?

“It’s her birthday today”. Sam had to pull his phone away from his ear as Bucky shouted ‘fuck!’ followed by the recognisable sounds of him punching the brick wall. There were hushed tones following this as Steve and Bucky furiously spoke to each other, frustrated with each other for forgetting the one day that they’d been looking forward to.

Eventually, Steve placed the phone against his ear, his voice clipped and determined, “Can you stay with her until we get back? I don’t think we’ll be here too much longer now anyway and just…”, he contemplated what to say for a moment. “Just tell her that we got the guy and we’re coming back and that we love her, please Sam?”

“Sure thing, Boss”. The phone line cut off as Steve hung up, following Bucky back into the room to finish the guy once and for all.

Sam entered your home, finding you tucking happily into your third slice of chocolate cake, fork pausing halfway to your mouth as you looked at the expression on your friend's face.

“What is it?” you asked nervously, placing the fork back onto the plate.

“They’ve got him, sweetheart”.

It had been almost an hour since Sam had spoken those precious words to you and initially, it felt like you were going into shock, your bodyguard having to remind you to breathe again before it truly hit home. You were safe. They had actually found him and you were safe.

But now, you were sat just staring aimlessly at Sam thinking… what was going to happen now? Sam mentioned that the boys wouldn’t be back late and that they loved you and even though it gave you such peace in your heart to know this, there was still the underlying sadness. They’d still been ignoring you for weeks and forgotten your birthday, were you supposed to just carry on like this hadn’t happened?

There hadn’t really been a time in your relationship with them both where you’d actually been angry or upset by their actions so you were conflicted between wanting to celebrate and also remaining confident with your emotions of hurt.

Sam left you soon after to prepare de-escalation of the guards around your home and also give you the chance to have a long soak in the shower and prepare for their return. You’d ask him what you should do and he encouraged you to do what you felt was best which you only realised was an answer to cover his own back to not being fired, of which he laughed at, saying you were correct.

After showering and pampering yourself, the nerves returned, souring your mood once more. What did you wear? Did you dress up and greet them at the door? Did you wallow in self-pity in your bedroom?

But then the sight of Sam’s balloon and present caught your eye. It was your birthday, the one day a year when you actually wanted it to be all about you and here you were panicking.

Fuck. It.

You weren’t going to waste the remainder of the day, you didn’t need to be lost in your guilt and you for sure were going to have some damn fun before the consequences of the past few weeks came crashing down.

Finding something comfortable to wear which consisted of grey pyjama shorts and an old white t-shirt of Steve’s. Then you returned downstairs, linking your phone to the TV to play your music - loud.

One glass of wine turned into two and with the music, you were lost in the distraction, becoming increasingly more at ease and free, letting your body sway with the song. As each song played, you became more carefree, eventually dancing around the living room, the happy hum of alcohol in your veins, your throat aching with how loud you were singing the words.

Every thought of the past few weeks were diminisheds, until it felt like you were being watched from where you were currently standing on the couch, arms in the air, careful not to spill your wine in your one hand. Turning towards the door, your arms dropped down, breathing heavily as Steve and Bucky watched your happiness with smiles that could only be described as unfiltered love.

Neither of you was sure whether to approach the other, just staring for a few beats of the song before you stepped off of the couch and pausing the music, the silence deafening and unsettling enough that you were swift to down the rest of your wine for courage.

For a moment, you looked between Steve and Bucky, at their handsome faces, the overwhelming sensation to run into their arms almost taking over your body as you stepped forward but you stopped yourself abruptly. Deciding to stare at the spot on the floor and before fully thinking through your words, you began to spill everything you’d been holding in for two weeks.

“I’m… I’m so thankful to you both, for always putting me first and finding the person who was threatening me but I can’t pretend that these past two weeks haven’t been horrible and I need to tell you both now before I lose my courage. I understand why you’ve kept me hidden away but please, don’t ever shut me out like that again. We’re supposed to be in a relationship, one that is open about our emotions and supportive but I’ve hardly seen you in two weeks and you’ve not even given me the opportunity to ask how you both are because you’re both gone again at the crack of dawn and-”

You could feel your emotions rising again so taking a steadying breath, you looked up at the both again, “I do appreciate everything you have ever done for me and I love you both so much but, I can’t ever have a repeat of these last two weeks again, we’re a team please remember that before you decide to do things in my best interest when it’s going to be negative on all of us”.

Finishing everything that you wanted to say, your gut twisted with unease as neither said anything at first but Steve finally stepped forward. You straightened your spine as he approached, clutching the hem of your t-shirt to hide your trembling fists, keeping your eyes on his, not entirely sure what to expect until he standing only a couple of inches in front of you, your neck aching from having to look up at his taller stature.

Then he was dropping lower and lower until he was on his knees before you, eyes full of remorse, hands rising to cup around your wrists, gently prying your hands away from your shirt so that he could kiss the backs of them before resting his forehead on them.

“I’m so sorry my love, I don’t want to come up with excuses as to our behaviour these past two weeks but I think obsession and delirium from lack of sleep have caused us both to only want to find this guy and in the process have ignored you which was never our intentions. It’s just that… I can’t lose you-”, Steve’s voice cracked with pure emotions and it took everything within you to not collapse to your knees and hug him.

“I know, I can’t lose you either, both of you!” you emphasised, looking between the top of Steve’s head and Bucky whose emotions were written all over his face, regret, sadness and love.

“Tell us what we need to do, for you to forgive us”, Bucky finally spoke, taking a few steps forward and joining Steve on his knees in front of you, hands lifting to rest on your hips.

Here you were, with the leader of the Rogers Mafia Gang and the Second-In-Comand, both on their knees, looking as if you’d just ripped their hearts out and stamped on it, begging for your forgiveness.

“Just promise me you’ll talk to me next time, don’t ever shut me out”.

Steve finally looked up, the whites of his eyes shaded slightly red from his raw emotions, making sure to look you directly in the eye, “I promise, on everything I love, on you, Buck, the entire gang, that I will never make you feel this way ever again”. Your shoulders sagged in relief at his words, raising your hand to cup the side of his head as Bucky also promise his life that this would never happen again.

“I’ve missed you”, your voice was thick with emotions as you finally dropped lower, desperately kissing Steve and then Bucky on the lips. You consistently moved from one to the other, desperate, emotional kisses that were long, breathless and hard. Concentrating on every little feel, smell and taste of them both, a hand on each of their shirts, gripping tightly scared that they would move away. But they didn’t, they stayed and put as much passion into their touches and kisses as you did until all three of you collapsed back into the couch.

You were extremely breathless, greedily sucking in air as your head rested against Steve’s chest and feet over Bucky’s lap, all three of your lips were swollen from the bruising kisses, arms trapping your body into theirs.

The feeling of contentment was strong as the three of you just stayed like that for a while, your body feeling light enough that you could have fallen asleep but suddenly Bucky shifted slightly, sitting forward on the couch so you could see his face.

“That’s not the only apology we need to be making today, honey”, Bucky stated, lifting your daintier hand up to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before rubbing his cheek against your palm. “We’re sorry for forgetting your birthday, there are no excuses for this, my love, we’re sorry”.

“It’s ok, I know you’ve been busy”.

“No, there aren't any excuses, you shouldn’t be so forgiving with us”, Steve mumbled against your temple, his lips soft and plump against your skin. “We need to make it up to you and even though our original plans are out of the window, we’ll start tonight and first thing in the morning tomorrow, we’re getting on that plane and getting out of here”.

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face, feeling excited about the plans tomorrow but then you contemplated his words a bit more, sitting up slightly in his embrace so you could look him in the eye.

“What do you plan on starting tonight?”

Something flashed in Steve’s eyes, almost as if the iris had darkened, momentarily they dropped to look at your mouth before looking back into your own eyes.

“We have a very long list of ways to beg for our forgiveness and make it up to you”, Bucky then responded for Steve. Looking at the hulking man now, you could see that he too was looking between your lips and eyes, almost like he was ready to eat you whole. “And…we aren’t going to stop until you say the words ‘I forgive you’.

Words seemed to fail you for a moment as you knew what they were planning, knew from the hardening lumps in their laps, the suggestive glances with their eyes and oh the wicked words he was saying. Bucky was giving you the ultimate power, all you could want for as long as you wanted until saying those words and the thrill of being able to have sort of control had your insides clenching in arousal.

They moved almost as one as if they shared the same mind as each article of clothing was removed by your body, freeing you of the confines of the material. The two men remained fully clothed but loosened their ties and unbuttoned the top button.

Steve and Bucky then proceeded to utterly worship every inch of your skin and body. It was almost overwhelming with knowing where to aim your attention, with Bucky nibbling on your thighs or Steve licking the column up your neck. Your body heated at the touches, their hands stroking areas where their mouths had vacated, mixing between kissing, sucking and licking depending on how sensitive the area they were located. Then their teeth would graze you and cause your breath to stick in your throat in an attempt to beg and moan for more.

You wanted to touch them too, missing the way their muscles and abnormally warm skin felt under your soft fingertips, but for now, you were more than content with having their sole focus be on you. Savouring every sensation they had to offer, even down to the way their facial hair roughly scratches your delicate skin, only to be soothed by their wicked tongues.

Then Steve’s huge body is hovering over your mouth, lips only an inch away from touching yours once more but the glint in his eye, he was in the mood to tease as you tried to lean up to kiss him, only to have him move away, staying that torturous distance away. “Please kiss me”, you’re pathetically begging, already giving in to the desperation, wanting more than just his warm breath on your face that smelt vaguely of the coffee he’d downed earlier.

Steve’s full lips form into a smirk, fingers gracing over the skin of your shoulders, eyes subtly glancing towards Bucky where you can feel him kiss against your inner knee.

“I want to taste you”. Steve’s statement was said in such a smokey tone that your hips rolled just to be near that beautiful mouth of his.

Your boyfriends swapped places around your body. Bucky held up your upper half against his chest as Steve settled between your thighs already had a light soaking of your juices caused by their well-skilled foreplay. Watching Steve closely, admiring his handsome face for a moment as a slither of his blonde hair draped into his eyes, you wish you could have kissed him again, tell him how much you loved him but his next words had your thoughts consumed with something else.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?”

You released a heavy breath, mouth hanging open contemplating between the two before the smartest answer finally tumbled from your lips, “both”.

Steve seemed to like that answer as his face descended, along with his right arm. Not that you could see as Bucky then tilted your head back against his chest, dipping down slightly to thoroughly kiss you, tongue pushing between your lips, completely dominating you.

Bucky then absorbed every single moan and gasp into the kiss as Steve’s tongue delved through your folds, licking a strip the entire length, tasting your beautiful juices that he’d been craving for the past two weeks. As one tongue distracted you, whether it was your mouth or cunt, then the other would be stroking a certain nerve that had you twitching and praising the men surrounding you. Steve began to concentrate on your bundle of nerves, firming the tip of his tongue to move it in a slow, methodical circle before flattening his entire tongue and licking against it.

Your hands wound into his hair and with the scrunched-up position, your elbows pushed your breasts together, something Bucky noticed from the corner of his eye, his nimble fingers reaching around you to perk the nipples, tugging at the same time as Steve sucking your clit for a few seconds. You forgot just how much you loved the feeling of his metal fingers, so cold against the sensitive bud that he twisted and pulled.

Bucky pulled back from the kiss, wanting to hear the noises you were going to make and, seeing Steve’s fingers moving to tease your hole, circling the entrance a few times before pushing two of his rough long fingers within. “Ahhhh!” You groaned, back arching slightly wanting Bucky’s hands to cup your tits more whilst also, holding Steve close against your pussy.

“I will never get enough of you”, Bucky rasped, his eyes almost hungry as he continued to look down at your body wrapped in his arms.

You held his eye contact, feeling the coil tightening in your abdomen. “Don’t stop”, you choked, body tensing as Steve’s fingers steadily moved in and out, matching the strokes of his tongue.

The mafia boss chuckles, releasing your clit momentarily, “Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you until you’re too tired to even speak”.

The promise in his tone had you feeling such an intense thrill that your walls clamped down harshly around his fingers as you came hard, hips rolling against his face, Bucky also continuing to squeeze and play with your tits until the waves of pleasure subsided. The three of you remained in place, both men giving you a moment to catch your breath, enjoying the post-orgasm glow that graced your expression.

Then they were both moving, you weren’t sure where they were going at first until Bucky began to lie across the couch in the same position as Steve with your legs thrown over his shoulder and Steve was sitting behind you, holding you in an upright position. They’d swapped places and all you could do was look down at Bucky with wide eyes as he looked directly at your sopping cunt, “It’s my turn to taste, oh how I’ve missed this”.

He then swooped in to do exactly as he stated, his mouth devouring your cunt just as much as he had your mouth, his warm fingers pushing into your tight cunt, teasing the spongey spot within. Then Steve was tilting your head back with a firm grip on your jaw, biting his lower lip in anticipation before he too was taking your breath away as his mouth crashed into yours.

You could taste yourself on his lips, the scent of coffee completely gone and this revelation caused your body to heat further, finding it thrilling with how much of your juices he truly had lapped up. Steve’s big hands were then rubbing against your breasts, squishing them before teasing the nipples, each movement causing sparks of pleasure to go directly in between your legs to where Bucky was eating you out.

Your fingers were already in his hair, holding him there and helping to roll your hips against his face. You were already a little sensitive from the first orgasm, embarrassed to say that your second orgasm was already building with increasing pace, thighs trembling as you tried to not squish Bucky’s head.

It took only a few minutes and your eyes were rolling back, face dropping slightly, stopping the kiss from Steve so you could moan Bucky’s name. Your pussy clenched repeatedly around his fingers as he teased you through the entire orgasm, only stopping when your hips were jolting with overstimulation.

Bucky didn’t wait for you to catch your breath now however as he sat up on his knees, both arms wrapping around your body to pick you up, manhandling your body with ease. A second later, you found yourself kneeling on the couch on wobbly thighs, your body leaning over the back as Bucky pushed gently on your shoulders, forcing your arse to lift into the air.

Unsure where Steve was for a second but then you didn’t care as Bucky pushed two of his fingers back into your cunt, his large body standing directly behind you. He begins to fuck you, in and out with his fingers, positioned at his pelvis so from the front it looks like he was fucking you, and oh he was getting to that part soon but he just wanted to see you cum one more time before that.

The muscles in his arm flexed beneath his black shirt as he began to fuck you quickly with his fingers, your body automatically rolling back to meet him halfway.

“Do you like fucking my fingers?” Bucky huskily asks, staring down with wide eyes, the pupils looking almost completely black with lust.

“Yes, they feel so fucking good”, you responded, holding desperately onto the back of the couch.

Bucky held onto your hips, squatting slightly to have a better view of your cunt before he began to curl his fingers, gently tugging on them with each thrust, massaging directly against your g-spot. “That’s it, hot mama, let go for me”, he encouraged, knowing exactly what he was doing with his special trick as splashes of fluid began to squirt out of you, coating his arm and the couch but neither of you cared.

Your body was convulsing, thighs struggling to hold up your weight as Bucky was now fully kneeling on the floor again, his tongue sticking out to its fullest length to try and catch any of your squirts, groaning as flecks of liquid coated him.

You were cumming through this entire moment, the sounds of the sloshing from your cunt caused my Bucky’s fingers were like music to Steve’s ears as he watched you completely explode through your orgasm.

This time, Bucky allowed you a few moments to gather your bearings, gasping for air as you tried to sit up more, your arm and head hanging off the edge of the couch as Bucky licked his fingers clean.

You were exhausted that much was true but you’d been so touch-deprived over the last few weeks that you couldn’t help but beg for more. “I want you to fuck me”, you sighed over your shoulder at Bucky.

The man smirked devilishly, taking his sweet time to undress completely, also giving you just that little extra time to gather your senses, trying to ignore the wet feeling under your knees from where you’d soaked the couch.

Then there were suddenly hands on your hips, helping to push you back up as a long thick cock was rubbing at your entrance. “Bucky…”, you sighed as finally, his cock was stretching your cunt, the sensation was so much more intense after the long wait and thorough foreplay.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, Doll”, Bucky praised as you took most of his cock, there still being an inch that never seemed to fit.

A hand began to stroke a gentle touch across your cheek as Steve was suddenly in front of you. As Bucky began to fuck you with long, strong strokes, Steve caressed your phase in a praising manner, letting you know he was there and even giving his thumb to suck on, the stimulation of which was causing your cunt to clench around Bucky.

Reaching out with a lazy hand, you attempted to grab Steve’s belt, wanting more than just his thumb to suck, no, in fact, you could definitely say, you needed to suck on his cock right now.

However, you groaned in annoyance as Steve pushed away your hand. “No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good”, he informed you as his large hand moved down your naked spine.

“But I want your cock so bad, please, I won’t ask for anything else ever again”, you exaggerated, knowing it was a complete lie.

Steve did too, even though he relented as he stood to his full height, “ok, Baby”. His fingers which were once inside of you, were now swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt and you watched in fascination as he began to undress. Fuck, his body was unbelieve, just as Bucky’s was over your shoulder. But then, all thoughts disappeared from your mind as you were suddenly eye level with the veiny, red hard cock of Steve, his voice low as he commanded, “Open your mouth for me”.

You do as instructed instantly, earning a soft stroke against your cheek in praise before he was resting his heavy tip against your tongue. His salty taste splashed around in your mouth, you swallowed harshly, wanting to taste more of him as you held your weight up with one hand, and the other gripped the base of his cock.

All the whilst, Bucky continued with his deep thrusts that also caused you to jolt forward, almost like he was doing the work for both of you as with each one, you were taking Steve deeper into your mouth. Your warm tongue was teasing the underside of his cock, taking special time to stroke against the area under the tip that had Steve gasping and holding the back of your head.

There were so many sensations going through you that you hadn’t even noticed that your eyes were closed until Steve spoke once more. “Let me see those eyes”.

Once again you did as instructed, opening your eyes to look at Steve. His eyes were flicking between what your mouth was doing and also watching the area where his friend was fucking into you.

“You look so good beneath me”, Bucky grunted, slapping his hips harder into you, his hold on your hips almost bruising but the mix of pleasure and pain was blissful. You gagged around Steve’s cock as he hit the back of your throat with the powerful thrust from Bucky, your eyes were instantly watering but Steve was quick to wipe away any tears that fell, whispering sweet praises down at you.

This was when Bucky licked his own thumb and began pressing it against your asshole, not pushing in straight away but allowing the momentum of his thrusts to slowly inch its way in. With the way you began to moan, the sensation vibrating around Steve’s cock, he knew you were loving it. Finally, his thumb slipped in and he stayed there, resting his other fingers on your lower back and almost using this as his grip to fuck you.

“You like sucking on his cock whilst I take you from behind?” Bucky asked, knowing you couldn’t verbally answer with your mouth full of Steve but the brunette smirked when he heard you groan in pleasure.

“You are doing so well”, Steve continued with his praises, the apples of his cheeks pink, mouth gaped open, releasing moans between his words. Bucky could feel you were adjusting well to his thumb, pulling it out and replacing it with the two fingers that he had been fucking you with earlier.

You felt so full in every hole, the sensation near overwhelming as you couldn’t prepare for the orgasm that consumed you. It took your breath away so much that you had to pull your face back and off of Steve’s cock to suck in air, a thin strip of drool connecting your lips with the tip of Steve’s glistening tip. “Oh baby, you’re drooling everywhere”.

Bucky had also paused his thrusts now, letting you calm down from the orgasm and the way your cunt was twitching around him, he nearly shot his load already. Attempting to sit up further on your knees, you looked up at Steve with a cock-drunk expression, eyes glazed, lips swollen and chin covered in spit.

“I want you both”.

Steve cupped your face, smiling slightly at you already forgetting about your declaration only moments ago that you wouldn’t ask for anything else. “Baby girl, we haven’t prepped you and it’s been nearly two weeks, you won’t be able to take us both”.

You make an annoyed face, “I can take it please! Please don’t say no to me!”.

Steve looks at Bucky over your shoulder, seeing what he thought about it and with the distraction, you purposefully clenched your cunt around Bucky’s cock, causing the man to curse and grip the globe of your arse in a firm grip.

“We’ll try but it if it hurts, we’re stopping”, Steve finally decided for the three of you and you couldn't be more thrilled, displaying a shit-eating grin across your face. Bucky was the first to move, snaking an arm around your waist and swapping the two of your position so that he was now sitting on the couch and you were practically sitting in his lap, your sweat-covered back against his toned abs.

Bucky was able to easily hold up your legs as the two of you watched Steve walk around the couch and stand between your legs.

Holding out two fingers under your mouth, you smiled before spitting onto his fingers. He smirked at your obedience, moving the wet fingers down to your asshole, and seeing as Bucky didn’t have a spare hand, he gripped his member, guiding it to your wet hole.

“Nice and slow”, Steve encouraged Bucky and you, watching your expression for any signs of pain as well as any tension that arrived in your body. However thankfully, you were so thoroughly aroused and had to couple of fingers from Bucky that it wasn’t painful. It did still take your breath away with how far you were being stretched but once he was past the thickened part of the tip, the rest slid in fine, even being able to take that extra inch with this position.

It was intense and you were thankful for the time they both gave you to adjust your ass was fluttering around Bucky as it tried to go back to its original size. “You’re doing so good for me”, Bucky breathes into your ear, kissing just below, showing his appreciation to you.

You nod to show that you’re good to carry on and Steve is lifting one leg next to Bucky’s hip on the couch, using it to position himself and gently ease his cock into your eagerly awaiting cunt, your juices naturally lubing his path.

The two of them began slow, mostly with Steve doing all of the thrustings, the sensation of his cock brushing against your walls and brushing against Bucky’s, even with there being a barrier, was enough to have you all moaning. But then Bucky began to tilt his hips up slightly, still holding up your legs in the process.

You’d felt full before but now, you were being stretched in all of the right places. Your hands rested around Steve’s waist, nails digging into his back as he moved at a steady pace, even though you didn’t need much prepping, you weren’t such that a hard fucking whilst being double penetrated would have been the best option right now.

Especially as with his perfectly timed strokes, you could feel every single drag of his cock along your walls and the way he rolled his hips meant that his pelvis brushed your clit. It was more than euphoric, feeling like you were constantly at the height of orgasm with everything being so stretched.

“Fuck, look at you, taking both of us like a good girl. Do our cocks feel good baby?” Steve asked in between pants, his body gleaming with sweat as he was trying to hold back his own orgasm but already knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Yes! Feels so good”, you babble, lead lolling back against Bucky’s shoulder, loving the feeling of being sandwiched between their hard bodies. “Want you both to cum inside of me”.

Hearing such dirty words from your mouth had them both groaning deeply, their thrusts deepening slightly, Steve’s hand now resting gently against your throat so all you could do was look up at him.

Bucky came first, his fingers tightening around the hold on your legs as his thighs tensed beneath you, hips fucking up once more, “ah fuck!”, was all he was able to grunt as he coated your asshole in his cum.

Steve fucked you a little harder as he stopped holding back his own orgasm, his lips parting, “Gonna fill you up baby, fuck - yes!” You didn’t stop the eye contact as Steve came, his eyebrows furrowing as he too stilled, his cock hardening with each spurt of his seed, it spilling out around his cock and dripping into Bucky’s lap.

Your body felt completely useless as Bucky eased out, more cum dripping out and mixing with Steves, and gently he simply moved you onto his lap, cuddly you close, keeping you warm as you all attempted to catch your breath.

A smile crept onto your face however as one thing came to mind.

“I forgive you both”, you admitted and truthfully, you’d forgiven them the moment they had dropped to their knees in front of you but it was nice for them to give you the opportunity to decide when you’d forgiven them. They both kissed your temple, smiling against your skin.

“Happy birthday”, they both whispered, causing you to chuckle at the late hour at which they were saying it but at least they didn’t completely miss the day.

Steve reached to the floor, picked up his trousers and found his phone, checking the time, not quite realising just how late it now was.

“Let’s get you to bed, we have an early start in the morning”, he informed the two of you as he began to stand.

Glancing down at your body, you tried to move your legs but all they did was tremble as you still hadn’t the full sensation back from how hard you’d been fucked. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk in the morning”, you joked to them both.

Steve chuckled, bending down and placing one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back, lifting you up and into his arms. “That’s fine with me, I wasn’t planning on you walking anywhere over the next few days, I’ll just carry you on the plane”.

You smiled giddily at his words, arms circling around his neck, feeling fucked and dazed as he carried you up to the bedroom, Bucky smiling at you over Steve’s shoulder as the three of you returned to the comfort of your own bed.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers #mafia steve rogers #mafia au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #mafia bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes one shot #marvel smut #marvel one shot #mine*#request

1K notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 8 months

Text

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation.

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling.

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with.

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic.

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand.

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems.

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.”

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile.

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.”

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly.

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision.

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic.

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew.

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?”

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass.

“I’m sure.”

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it.

But Eddie did. He had to.

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.”

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.”

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage.

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for.

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said.

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?”

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.”

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs.

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.”

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away.

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him.

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction.

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients.

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact.

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this.

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits.

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room.

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.”

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.”

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.”

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same.

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache.

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown.

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal.

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired?

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore.

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand.

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead.

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out.

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?”

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading.

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him.

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.”

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.”

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious.

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie.

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration.

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths.

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily.

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle.

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.”

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern.

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement.

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming.

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.”

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.”

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.”

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you.

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is.

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise.

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend.

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain.

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him.

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all.

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago.

—

“Do you two know each other?”

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down.

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?”

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it.

Please don’t fire me.

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.”

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?”

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore.

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.”

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view.

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t.

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better.

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully.

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous.

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day.

Fate, and Eddie, it seems.

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly.

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock.

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?”

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time.

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.”

End of story.

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words.

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time.

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure.

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.”

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.”

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again.

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.”

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you.

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not.

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.”

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

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

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #maroon #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #i couldn't access my taglist response list for a few days so the taglists are NOT updated! they will be soon :)#half-assedly edited #i am now going to bed because i am the sleepiest girl to ever exist EVER #playing around with formatting don't mind me

421 notes · View notes

burning-omen · 10 months

Text

Birthday Present

Miguel O’Hara x Male!reader

(A/n: Birthday present for my best homie cuz I love its gay ass- you know who you are. Also this is a day late but shut up)

Summary: You and Miguel celebrate your birthday

Warning⚠️: sub!Miguel, Dom!Male!reader, Miguel being nervous but also extremely submissive and obedient, edging, overstim, dacryphilia, handjob, anal, biting, marking, creampie, pwp, friend to lovers(???), not beta read

You enjoyed portals- which was a statement you would have been severely confused by several months ago. But ever since you joined the ever growing Spider-society, you've become very well acquainted with portals. You spent the majority of your down time in the Spider HQ, usually bothering Miguel until it was time for you to go patrolling again.

Today was different- today, you decided to take a little more time off that usually- the Daredevil of your universe taking over for you as a gift- a birthday gift.

While most people would be spending their birthday with friends and family- you decided to spend it with your fellow spider people.

You watch beeped as you landed- the portal closed behind you the second you were out of it. You ran into various Spider-people along the way, they have you various greeting, some wishing you a happy birthday- others just gave you a curt nod before moving on.

You didn't stick around any of them too long- b lining for Miguel’s office.

When you entered you could see him watching the screens- as always.

“Miguel!” you said with a smile.

His back was facing but you could see his head turn slightly as he glanced at you over his shoulder. In a moment- nearly every visible screen was cleared, a few still displayed the connections between timelines and whatnot- but most were just empty yellow screens.

“Y/n..” he responded, his voice quiet, tapping his claws against the desk. Lyla floated near his shoulder, only for her tiny form to disappear when she turned to you.

You step forward with caution.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked, placing a gental hand on his back, sliding it up towards his shoulder in an attempt at reassurance.

A moment passed- very still, and very quiet. You stood there with him for a moment.

After a few seconds, he broke the growing silence.

“I..have something for you.”

His voice was still quiet, his claws ever so slightly digging into his desk as your hand slid from his shoulder to the center of his back- you could feel his heart pounding against your hand, unwavering, but far to quick.

He finally turned to you, his face warm with a red blush- just as quickly as he turned to you, he looked away.

“It's not here..” he muttered, clearing his throat a bit before continuing, “…you can have it later.”

That was all he said about it- at least for the moment. You continued on like any other day- rambling Miguel’s ear off, telling him stories, joking, and flirting as you always did.

It wasn’t until night fell, when HQ was practically empty, that he brought it up again. You’d hardly noticed the how late it was until LYLA abruptly- and rather aggressively, reminded Miguel of his gift.

Miguel, as though a switch had been flipped, reverted back to the unusual flustered state he was in earlier. Despite the change, he thanked LYLA with a glare. Signaling for you to follow him, and you did. The walk from Miguel’s office felt oddly long- and for a moment you felt as though you were walking in circles, but eventually you made it to an exit high enough for the two of your to swing from.

Swinging through Miguel’s universe was always an exhilarating experience- though you’ve only done it a couple of times- you always notice something new about his universe. Not only was it an entirely different universe than yours, but it was decades in the future as well, making it infinitely more interesting.

You didn’t know where you were going, you followed closely behind Miguel, matching every one of his swings with your own until you landed on the high balcony of a large apartment building.

“This is my home..” he said, sliding the balcony door open and stepping inside.

You followed with a bit of hesitation, glancing back at the night sky behind you before entering.

For a reason you couldn’t explain, you didn’t expect his house to be…nice. You knew he had practically thrown his entire soul into being Spider-Man, so seeing that his house was not only fully furnished- but nicely decorated as well was a bit of a surprise.

You wandered through his apartment, hardly even realizing he was gone- nearly fascinated with all the little things he had around.

You didn’t realize he wasn’t with you anymore until you looked away from a rather confusing painting hanging on the wall, trying to ask him what the actual hell it was, only to realize that you were alone.

“Miguel..?” You called.

The lights in the house were dimmed, something you admired about the house, you figured Miguel had the heightened senses that all the other Spider-People, including yourself, had. Making your way through the house, calling out the Miguel every so often, checking each and every room until you found him.

He was again facing away from you, his suit was gone, replaced only by a pair of grey pants that hung dangerously low on his waist.

Just like before, in HQ, you took a few steps forward, placing your hand on his lower back, feeling just how hot his bare skin was beneath your fingers. Before you could ask if he was alright he turned to you, your hand sliding across his skin as he did, resting now on his waist- an action that was only furthered the deep fluster that Miguel felt.

“Y/n, I-“ he started, his eyes looking everywhere but into yours as he tried to find the right words. “I have a gift for you- I just don’t know if you want it.”

And as he moved closer into your space, his breathing ragged, cheeks red, and body hardly clothed -inching closer to yours, you finally got it.

Miguel seemingly took your realization as the green light to go ahead, pressing his body against yours, his hands finding the mask you barely registered wearing and pulling it off, you have no idea where it ended up after because the moment it was gone Miguel’s lips were against yours and the heat from his body was quickly spreading to yours.

One sweet kiss quickly turned to heavy panting, and messy, almost biting kisses- you've never been so aware of his fangs until they caught onto your bottom lip. His hands found their way into your suit resting at your sides as Miguel tried to think of something the do with them. To him you had it all worked out, one hand on his waist while the other stroked his cock through his pants- his mind clouded as his arousal grew- letting out a long whine against your lips.

Leading the man backwards onto the perfectly made bed behind him, laying him on his back, taking a moment to enjoy his mildly disheveled form and the growing tent in his pants.

Loud whimpers and whines filled the room as you continued to prod at Miguel's body, running your hands over his massive pecs, letting the muscles rest in your hand before giving his nipple a tight pinch, making his entire body shudder beneath you. Running your hand down his stomach until you were low enough to hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants- yanking them down with one hard pull.

Exposed and leaking pre-cum from the tip of his cock, Miguel tried to squeeze his legs together in a desperate attempt at modesty. It didn't last long, placing one hand on each thigh, forcing them farther apart than they had been before.

Leaning down, using your arm to support yourself as you whispered in his ear,

“Be a good boy and sit still for me, Miguel.”

He let out a short noise, you took it as a ‘okay’.

He didn't move, letting his leg lay wide open- giving you more than enough space to prep the man.

And despite the fact that he looked so beautiful beneath you, fully submitting to your every will, you were still going to tease him- at least a little bit.

Moving to his thighs, pressing your lips against them, leaving marks and bruises as you worked from one thigh to the next, watching him struggle to keep his hips from bucking up against you- trying so hard to follow orders. Then, as a way to test the waters, your kisses turned to bites. You didn't bite him particularly hard, it was hardly enough to hurt. He gasped hard, his body shook, and you could physically see him resist the urge to snap his legs shut, thighs straining as he forced them to start open.

“You like that? Do you like it when I bite you”

He opened his mouth to respond- but all that came out was a strangled whine- he nodded rapidly.

You kept going, biting his thighs, his chest, all the way up to his neck, all while ignoring his cock. Glancing down you watched as pre-cum beaded at the tip before sliding down his shaft.

When you looked back up at Miguel, he was looking at you, deep red eyes pleading with you as he whined out a small, “please.”

And for a moment you did consider giving him whatever he wanted, he was being perfectly obedient and he was such a beautiful gift. But then again it was your gift- and you could do whatever you wanted with your gift.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, a sigh escaping from him, you stroked his cock ever so gently. Up and down, watching him revel in the stimulation. But as more time passed his contempt turned to desperation as you kept the slow, teasing pace, never speeding up despite his begging and pleading and the tremor in his hips and his hands clawing at the bed in frustration.

“What's wrong, honey?” You asked.

He glared up at you, but his voice didn't match the harsh look he gave you, “Faster, please-” he groaned through gritted teeth.

You seemingly ignored him, still stroking him at the same slow pace.

His frustration grew, even as his orgasm grew closer and closer. Looking up at you with full intent on giving you the harshest, meanest glare he could muster, but the moment his eyes met yours you seemed to finally acknowledge his words from before. Without a moment's warning you sped up- and while he moaned and screamed and spasmed beneath you, you still kept the near-neutral face you had when you'd set the slow, deliberate pace from before.

“I-I’m so close, y/n- pleasepleaseplease-”

His breathing became ragged and his claws dug into the mattress and a stream of thanks and praises left him, then finally-

-nothing.

Your hands were off his body and a short laugh left you as he whined in disapproval. Coming down from his impending high- all that build up for nothing- leaving him far more frustrated and far more desperate.

And he begged, loud and shameless, pleading with you, asking you wky you had stopped, grinding his cock against the open air in a desperate attempt at friction.

Then, as though you had never stopped, you started again, starting at the brutally fast pace as before.

Panting and trying his hardest to convince you to let him cum this time. His words jumbled into a frenzied mess of noise.

He tried to hide when he was close. It had snuck up on him so fast and he hoped he could he could fool you into letting him finish.

But you stopped again- like you were fucking psychic- like you had and 7th sense telling you when he was close. Miguel growled out various swears but didn't try to convince you again, he knew you'd draw this out for as long as you could.

You did it two more times, getting him so close to the edge, then stopping just seconds before he could cum. It was torture, his body was overly sensitive, he felt as though every touch had been amplified by a thousand. Tears streamed down his face as you edged him for what felt like the hundredth time.

He could feel himself getting closer- again. He prepared himself for disappointment- for you to stop and laugh, and coo at him as he came down. But you didn't stop, you sped up, you hand squeezing around his cock. Broken gasps and moan falling from his lips as waves of overly intense pleasure washed over him. His body spawned and shuddered as he came- his hips bucking wildly into your hand as cum shot out from his cock- making a mess of hiss stomach and your hand.

Everything felt so intense, your hand, now unmoving felt overwhelming, and even the dimmed lights of the room felt too bright as he came down.

He didn't speak, he didn't know if he could. His brain fogged and his body was burning hot.

You let him calm down, letting his mind clear at least a little bit- you didn't mind just sitting and admiring him for a moment. He looked so pretty, covered in cum, sweat, and tears, trying to keep his grip on reality and consciousness.

“Y/n-” he whined, his eyelids hanging dangerously low.

“C'mon Miguel, we're not done yet.”

His eyes widened, looking up at you as you finally began taking off your suit. Seeing the massive tent in your pants he couldn't help but get excited. He soon found that massive might have been an understatement when you finally got rid of your pants. He breath hitched in his throat when he saw your cock- and for a moment, he worried about pain- about you having to make yourself fit inside him.

In a moment of clarity mixed with an unprecedented amount of lust- he realized that he wanted that- all the worry he felt about being in pain dissipating and exhilaration taking it's place. He wanted you to make it hurt, and he wanted to be forced to stretch around you, he wanted to be full of you- and even though he felt like his skin was burning with how sensitive he was, he couldn't wait for more.

You prodded his lips with two fingers- you didn't even need to tell him what to do before he opened his mouth, sucking your fingers in and lapping at them with his tongue, tasting himself on your fingers.

“Open.” you said, and he did, letting go of your fingers and looking up at you for more orders.

Lifting his thick thigh up onto your shoulder to give you more access to his hole. Looking back at him, his mouth hanging open as he panted, and whined.

Circling his hole with your fingers, watching him tense up before relaxing a second later.

“You ready?” you asked calmly.

“Please-”

Her barely gotten his response out before you shoved both of you fingers into his hole, pressing in- knuckle deep. Miguel gasped at the slight stretch, but he quickly grew used to it.

Pulling out to just the tip of your fingers then slamming back in, his legs twitched. You spread your fingers apart inside him, he hissed, grinding his hips down against your hand.

You fingered him hastily- it was almost funny how quickly he was coming apart just from two fingers. He whined and moaned out your name, loud enough that you just knew his neighbors could hear him.

Then, just like before, you stopped suddenly- and he didn't think he could do this again, he couldn't go through another hour of relentless teasing-

“I think that's enough, don't you?” you asked, smirking.

He looked up at you, confused.

It took him a moment to get it- but once he saw you lining up your cock with his hole it clicked into place.

“Yes- yes, please- ah- fuck- I need you to-“ He begged, his words broken by moans but you understood him clearly.

Pressing the tip of your cock into his hole, feeling it squeeze around you.

“Fuck-“ he panted, “-fuck me, please- please, Y/n, I-“

You didn’t need to be told twice, thrusting your entire length in one swift motion. His walls tightened around you and you savored the intense pleasure that it brought. His head had fallen back against the bed, eyes screwed shut and and mouth hanging open as a long moan emitted from his throat.

His cock spurred out cum, dribbling down his cock and pooling at his stomach, and still, having just cum again and being stuffed full, he tried to grind against you.

“Miguel-“ you breathed out.

He only whined in response.

You pulled out until only about half your cock rested inside of him before slamming back in. He sobbed as a new wave of tears streamed down his face. You felt so good but it was overwhelming, stinging and burning him from the inside out.

With one hand on his waist and the other on his thigh, you have a few more teasing thrust before setting bruising pace.

Poor Miguel felt like he was breaking, mentally and physically as you slammed into him again and again, hitting his prostate with every thrust. His thoughts were a mess and any possibility of him stringing together a coherent thought was long gone.

Clawing at the bed beneath him, tearing holes in both the sheets and the mattress with his claws, something that he’d be deeply embarrassed by later.

“More-“ he moaned- and you obliged.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you down to him, pressing his lips against yours for a moment then burying his face in your neck, he clawed out your back, his claws retracted but his nail still drawing blood. His fangs extremely close to your neck as he panted.

His cock was pressed between both your stomachs, constantly being stimulated as you thrusted into him.

It’s didn’t take long for him to cum again, cum dripping slowly out of his cock- his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He bit down on your shoulder without warning, not to hunt you, or even to silence the onslaught of practically screaming moans coming from him, but to brace himself as a pain filled orgasm washed over him, his nerves screaming with pain at the overwhelming amount of stimulation.

Pressing both hands on your chest, his voice horse, straining as he tried to get out a single sentence.

“Y/n please- I can’t- please slow down-“

And you could here him loud and clear- and you understood, you could hear the pain underlying his tone. But you didn’t stop- instead, you sped up, chasing your release as fast as you physically could. And yes, you were putting him in more pain, but it was faster- and it would be over sooner.

It didn’t take long, between him clawing at you, moaning the way that he does, and his body, tight and quivering around you, you didn’t stand a chance.

You pulled out slowly, watching your own cum flow out of his abused hole.

Looking up a him you could see relief wash over him- he finally relaxed. Going limp against the bed. You brushed a few stray stands of hair out of his face, he hummed in content, letting his heart finally rest at a steady pace.

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“You want some water?”

“Mhmm.”

By the time you navigated to the kitchen and back he was asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He figured you’d be gone when he woke up- he was beyond exhausted and wouldn’t be good company if he was asleep, and you had your own universe to get back to.

He woke up sometime in the after noon, rolling over in his bed, feeling throughly sore. Opening his eyes he saw you looking down at him. You were sitting up against the headboard, having borrowed some of his clothes, phone in hand.

He could see the sun shining dimly through the window.

“You missed your meeting.” You said, moving one hand to run through his hair.

“I figured.” His throat hurt and his voice was a bit horse, but he should have expected that, “what time is it?”

“About 6:30 pm.”

He groaned into his pillow, but didn’t say anything else for a long moment. A few minute passed and he considered drifting back to sleep, instead, he asked,

“Why are you still here?”

You stopped whatever you were doing on you phone, but didn’t look away from it.

“You want me to leave?”

“No- no, I’m just surprised that you stayed.”

You laughed, dropping you phone against you chest, staring down at him.

“Miguel I’ve literally been trying to fuck you since I joined the Spider-Society, do you really think I’m just going to leave after- I’m emotionally invested now.”

“So-“ he groaned as he forced himself to sit up, “what I’m hearing is that you like me.”

You adjusted yourself in the bed.

“Yeah just- don’t say it like that it makes us sound like middle schoolers.”

“Whatever you say..”

(please tell me of y'all see some mistakes I did NOT re-read this lol)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara x male!reader #bottom!miguel o’hara #sun!miguel o’hara #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x male!reader #spider man 2099 x male reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #male!reader #cinnamon

787 notes · View notes

shadowsandshapes · 10 months

Text

[𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲] 𝐃𝐔𝐃𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐜𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐃'𝐒 | (afab!Reader/Dabi)

Summary: You're craving some McDonald's so you drag Dabi along with you to go get a burger and fries, but the man cannot keep it in his pants around you. Contains: Unprotected Naughties, Semi-Public Smut, Creampie, Swearing, McDonald's Bathroom (that's a warning on its own) wc: [2.4K]

Minors DNI 🔪

Taking Dabi with you to McDonald's was a mistake.

You were just trying to get a fucking burger, not get your back blown out in a public restroom. But alas, here you were, shoved up against the toilet paper dispenser with the man’s hands groping your ass, squeezing the flesh with his large palms as he backed you up into the stall. You pressed your hands against the powder blue toilet partition wall, stifling a laugh as you read one of the little messages scrawled on the bumpy surface.

‘The future is in your hands’ — and scribbled beneath it in different handwriting: ‘my dick is the future?’ How truly poetic. Ah, public bathroom stalls: the home of the funniest jokes and best life advice you’ll ever read. And, apparently, Dabi’s favorite place to fuck. To be fair, it didn’t really matter to the villain where he got his dick wet, as long as he could have you choking on it with that pretty tongue of yours dangling aimlessly against the underside.

“Dabi–” you complained half-heartedly.

The only reply he graced you with was a breathless chuckle before cutting you off with a searing hot kiss. Of course. There was no arguing with the man once he’d made up his mind. He fumbled, shoving his fingers beyond the edge of your waistband, eager to get his hand cupping that precious cunt of yours.

You just had to wiggle your ass at him on the way in, didn’t you?

It started with Dabi’s hand on your waist as you went over to the digital kiosks to place an order. Whenever the two of you went out, he made it a point to hold onto you in some way, shape or form. Your hand in his. A tight grip on your waist, or middle. Anything to keep you nice and close. By his side, where you belonged. You didn’t know why Dabi was so insistent on touching you in public — perhaps he simply wanted to be close to you, or maybe he liked to show off who his pretty girl was. Whatever Dabi’s reasons were, his fingers brushed against the hem of your clothes, playing with fabric as he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“What do you want?” you asked, feeling the villain move to rest his head on your shoulder and peer at the screen. “I’m gonna just get a burger and fries.”

“Milkshake.” Dabi’s voice was gruff as he grunted his response in your ear. Navigating the categories until he found what he was looking for, he pointed at the menu to show you what he was craving. “And a 10-piece of nuggets.”

Having you in his arms always had the unfortunate side-effect of eroding Dabi’s ability to restrain himself. You just looked so fucking perfect with his hands on your hips. With every passing second you spent choosing your meal, Dabi became more impatient with the situation. Not for the food no. You were wearing that good perfume again. The one that made his dick hard whenever he so much as caught a whiff of it. And now that the man had his hands on you, Dabi couldn’t help himself anymore. You were so damn delicious — he was practically salivating already. His cerulean eyes traced the curve of your exposed neck, drinking in every dip and curve of bare skin you had on display. It looked so soft, inviting — and far too pristine and flawless to his liking. Not nearly enough marks and hickeys to decorate your beautiful body. He should change that.

Bruised was a really nice color on you, after all.

You gasped feeling his lips on your neck – a rush of energy flooding your body. The shiver that ran down your spine made Dabi’s grin grow wider.

“Fuck — Dabi!” you scolded, feeling his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your exposed nape. The man was shameless as he sucked your skin between his teeth and bit down. There was no way he wasn’t leaving a hickey behind with how ferociously he was lapping at your body. Every little noise you made only riled Dabi up more – the sound of your voice, gasping and scandalized by his actions made his cock throb in anticipation.

“If you insist, baby…” he hissed out, dragging you away from the kiosk toward the bathroom. You stumbled over your own feet, trailing after Dabi as he made his way to the back of the McDonald’s dining area. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on his mind right now and you knew for a fact that Dabi didn’t give a shit about having a quicky in public. He’d have you anytime, anywhere. As long as you were willing to spread those pretty fucking thighs for him, he was ready to stuff you full of cum without hesitation.

That’s how you ended up with one foot on the toilet seat and your hot-blooded boyfriend rutting his hard cock into your clothed pussy. Dabi’s fingers slipped into your underwear — a pleased, guttural groan rumbling in his chest as they brushed against your cunt, finding it already nice and wet for him.

“Shit, babe,” he cursed, pressing a couple of fingers into your aching heat. Just feeling your walls clench around these two digits drove him wild. His breath feels hot against your ear as he leaned in, resting his head against your shoulder while his fingers got to work prying you open to get you ready for his throbbing cock. “Here I thought I was bein’ the needy one but look at you. Guess you’re just as filthy as me, hm? That’s okay, it’s what I like about ya.”

“Dabi,” you whined desperately, back arching against the partition wall as he curled his nimble fingers inside of you. “Hurry the hell up, we’re gonna get caught —”

“We won’t be if you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, baby.” Dabi clamped his free hand firmly over your lips, muffling whatever retort you were about to spit back at him. It was probably some sarcastic bullshit comment anyway so he wasn’t sorry about shutting you up in the slightest. “Just keep that leg up on the seat and let me handle the rest, yeah?”

When you mumbled an affirmative series of noises against the palm of his hand, Dabi chuckled. Even when he tried to keep you quiet you just couldn’t resist trying to get the last word in. It was part of your charm and just made him want to fuck you so hard until that chatty attitude of yours shattered and all you could say was his name. You knew that too. It was a fun little game the both of you liked to play, especially in a public setting like this one.

Eventually, one of you would crack and Dabi would end up balls deep inside of you.

There was no time for romance right now. He fumbled with his belt, pulling his pants down just enough to free his cock. You could feel it pressing against your inner thigh, pre-cum smearing against the edge of your panties as he rutted against you in anticipation. The fabric stretched and tensed, cutting into your skin when Dabi yanked at them — your voice catching in your throat as he ripped your underwear clean off. A twinge of annoyance flashed in your mind — that was one of your favorite pairs. Your eyes followed the fabric scraps to the floor where they lay discarded against the greasy tiles of the McDonald’s bathroom, ruined and destroyed. You didn’t have time to mourn their loss: Dabi was done wasting any more precious seconds of not fucking you senseless. The man shoved his cock inside of your sweet, warm pussy — groaning with a desperation that set the hair in the back of your neck on end.

Your head lightly banged against the power blue partition wall and your foot nearly slipped off the toilet seat as Dabi began thrusting into you. The movements were shallow and sharp, grinding deliciously against that spongey spot inside of you that he loved to bully with his pierced cock. It’s like the guy knew exactly where to hit you to make you whimper and cry like a common whore. He could feel your hungry breaths catching against his palm — fingers clasping tightly over your lips to keep you from screaming.

“Keep it down, princess, this is a fucking family establishment,” Dabi taunted with a breathless whisper, never once slowing down his pace or pausing to let you catch a break.

You could only mewl into his hand, struggling to keep your heavenly cries under control each time he slammed his hips into you. Dabi’s burning blue eyes are glued to yours as he roughly pistoned his cock as far as it would go into your precious pussy. You felt so fucking perfect — he couldn’t get enough of you. Hell, half the time you two ended up fucking in a bathroom it was because Dabi couldn’t keep his dick from twitching at the sight of you. Even now, when he had you clenching on his fat cock, he wanted more. Harder. Deeper. Faster. It would never be enough. The toilet stall walls groaned and creaked with each thrust, shaking as they threatened to shamble off the hinges the longer you two spent inside the cubicle.

You could feel his tip grinding up against your cervix as Dabi leaned his full weight into you.

For now, the bathrooms were deserted but it would be naive to think they would remain that way. It was both thrilling and terrifying to know that the threat of someone catching the two of you in the act was very real. It added an itching urgency to the way Dabi moved, goading him into finishing this little romp as quickly as possible. He was doing a bang-up job at that. Your legs trembled as he fucked himself into you, eagerly slamming you down on his cock.

“Ssh, ssh, ssh —” he cooed when you got too loud again, pressing his lips against your forehead for a quick kiss. If it were any other man, the gesture might have been soothing. But this was Dabi: you knew better. The man was taunting you, taking pleasure in the fact that his pretty girl couldn’t moan for him like she wanted to. “Shut the hell up, you’re gonna get us caught…”

The way your eyes fluttered each time Dabi shoved his cock into your sweet cunt, your breath fanning against the palm of his hand — there was just something so fucking hot about your flushed face leaning back against the toilet stall like that. You looked completely helpless and desperate, just the way Dabi liked to have you. Grinding on his cock like you had something to prove, gasping and whining into the palm of his hand. You sounded almost like you were choking. He was utterly obsessed with that blissfully fucked-out look in your eyes. The sight alone was enough to make him wanna fill that pretty pussy of yours with his spunk. His fingers tightened their grip as he picked up the pace, digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks and admiring the way your face puffed up in his grip.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Dabi panted into your ear. His cock twitched in anticipation of what was to come. The man was so ready to fill you up with his thick, velvety cum. Every muffled moan you let out pushed him closer to the edge, urging him to cum in that heavenly cunt of yours. But there was one more thing he needed before he could finally give in to that desire. “I need you to cum on this dick, baby. C’mon, do it for me. I need to feel that pussy gushing on my cock, give it to me…” Dabi’s free hand grabbed your thigh and pressed it against the stall, spreading you open even more so he could shove himself even deeper and harder into you. You cried out, squirming at the feeling of his flushed tip plunging into your quivering pussy.

There was no holding back anymore. You couldn’t if you tried. Not with the man’s cock practically spearing you into oblivion.

Dabi felt your sweet cunt clenching, walls fluttering furiously and tightly around his hard cock as your orgasm crashed over you. He fucked you through each wave, shoving your body against the partition wall as it buckled and shook under the pressure. Feeling you clenching on his dick was all Dabi needed to drop his load inside of you as well. His teeth sank into your neck in an attempt to muffle his groans as he spilled his cum into you, cock pulsing with each ripple of pleasure that coursed through him. You felt your legs trembling, struggling to stay upright in the cramped toilet stall as he pumped you full. Thank fuck for Dabi holding you up or you would have sank through your knees ages ago. Every sweet, hot ounce of his cum poured into you, dribbling down and gathering at the base of his cock as he churned your insides until he was completely, utterly satisfied.

Once Dabi was completely spent, he pulled out and released your breathless mouth from his grasp. Quickly shoving his cock back into his pants and buckling up, the man cast a glance through the cracks of the toilet stall to see if anyone had walked in. The room was deserted. You were in the clear — having gotten away with a quick fuck in a McDonald’s bathroom. It was quite thrilling but also deeply embarrassing. Not exactly the type of passionate encounter you’d brag about to your friends.

You were perfectly happy to never tell a damn soul what had happened here today.

“Looks like it’s our lucky day,” Dabi chuckled out, grinning from ear to ear as he basked in the thrill of your public little tryst. Ripping a piece of toilet paper from the holder, he dabbed you clean and wiped away his spunk before chucking it in the bowl, flushing. It was a nice gesture, really, since you didn’t have a pair of panties to cover yourself with anymore.

As you both made your way out of the bathroom, you smoothed out the creases in your clothes, trying to act normal. Luckily for you, no one seemed to be paying any mind to the two of you stumbling back into the restaurant, looking like you just ran a marathon.

“Y’know, babe —” Dabi said, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you in close. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, whispering into your ear like he was telling you a secret. “I McLoved that.”

“You’re the fucking worst.”

#touya todoroki smut #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya x y/n #touya x reader #dabi #touya todoroki

729 notes · View notes