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ohdeerfully · 3 months

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Requests? I got you 😌

Reader who made a deal with Alastor, be his informant, and he'll provide aid when needed. And reader was damn good at holding up their end of the deal, while Alastor hasn't really needed to uphold his since aid hasn't been asked for.

So what might happen when his dear little informant hasn't came back from gathering info on the Vee's?

EATING IT UP idk i love this kind of stuff thank you so much. im making this a two-parter! it was getting kinda long and i wanted to get something posted (:

Your Half of the Deal (i)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii part iii TW: kidnapping, cursing, alastor is manipulative (per usual), alastor is in denial if you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Deals with Alastor were, for a lack of better words, a big deal. Not something to mess around with. His twisted nature allowed him to create so many loopholes for himself, forcing one to do more than what they bargained him for. It was unfair, but that’s what happens when you make a deal with the Radio Demon.

You weren’t as lucky as the other demons at the hotel, not receiving the typical advice Vaggie debriefed any newcomer. Alastor got to you first. He got you soon after you fell into Hell, before you even knew exactly what was going on or the whole ‘soul’ thing.

“My,” A light voice cooed from the shadows, causing you to jerk your head up. Your ass still stung from the tumble you took after falling down into god knows where. You were curled up in a dark, moldy corner, a brief respite from all the freaks that you kept running into. Your fingers–no, claws?--still aches after defending yourself from a pair of spiked thugs.

“What a poor sight. How dreadful!” He continued. You could barely make out the form of the speaker. You just knew he was tall. With blazing red eyes. His voice had a radio-like filter over it, with a general low frequency humming around himself during the silence.

He had seen you, a new fallen demon, fight yourself away from those two earlier, a wild look in your eye. How it pleased him, seeing that look somebody gets when they are desperate for their life. But you, in particular, piqued his interest. To be able to acclimate to a new body, in a new place, and fight for your life at the drop of your hat.

You seemed capable, and he liked that. He knew you were naive, fresh meat always was. And he liked that.

You had yet to speak, only looking up at him from your fetal position. But he could tell you were tense and ready to spring, if need be. He played a grin on his face and leaned down closer to you.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Alastor,” He held his hand out to you from his bent over position. You shook his hand cautiously. “I saw that scuffle earlier, and dear if I may say, you fight like a wild tigress.”

You quirked your brow at this comment. “Thanks,” You replied plainly. “(Y/N).” You didn’t want to talk right now. But, you were at least glad to see a face that didn’t immediately go through your throat.

Alastor, of course, didn’t go after those of the ‘fairer means,’ as he would put it. At least, not in a violent way. He was all for the typical manipulation.

“Even still, a fair lady such as yourself needs someone to protect her! And,” He stood up straight again, a dangerous glint in your eye. “For a price, I could be at your beck and call.”

“A price..?” You responded weakly. You had to admit, seeing this tall, confident man in front of you did seem to put you at ease. He seemed kind. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some help, if there were more creatures wanting to attack you.

“Your soul!” He said, all too cheerfully. Your mouth dried up at this. With everything that has happened to you so far, you had a hunch that the term ‘soul’ actually carried meaning in this place. But, how much..? Was it worth the protection he promised?

“More like a mutual contract, really! Mutual benefactors!” Alastor lied, seeing that hesitance in your expression. “I get your soul, you do what I ask, and I protect you! Simple enough.”

The expression he held, with that tall grin of his, didn’t do much to calm your nerves. As chipper as he seemed, there was something to it. Something more, but you couldn’t quite tell.

“Deal?”

His glowing eyes seemed to darken as he squinted them in anticipation, his smile somehow growing wider. The static in the air seemed to crackle with more energy, almost violently, as you considered his hand that he had held out. There was an ominous aura that made your skin crawl.

Ah, what the hell. Flashes of those thugs from earlier was enough to put you on your feet. You could only imagine the other shit that lived in this place, and had a feeling they were the bottom of the barrel. You had only just managed to get away from them.

You made eye contact for a couple of seconds, the prickling sensation on your skin becoming harsher and more aggravating the closer you stepped to him. You grabbed his hand.

You were thinking about your unlucky situation–which you often did in your free time–as you gave yourself a onceover in the mirror, black eyes examining your tight outfit. A little spy getup–a little stereotypical, something you would definitely see in the movies. But, hey, it never failed you.

Thinking back, you could tell now that his words and smile were filled with deceit and manipulation. You often got pissed at yourself for how naive you were. You hadn’t even called on him once since then, and you’ve been stuck as his little pet for nearly four months now. He runs you around like a doll in a big playhouse, sending you this way and that to get intellect from his various enemies.

“I’m much too popular to be roaming in those areas!” He had claimed when you questioned why he, the Radio Demon, couldn’t just do it himself. “Demons flee at the sight of me. The Vee’s would see me from a mile away.” You had a suspicion that he just didn’t want to be seen in public making such a petty fuss over his television rival.

There was no point in dwelling on it, but you couldn’t help the occasional feeling of regret that twinged your chest when you thought too long. You were stuck as his, whether you liked it or not.

Slicking back your hair, you finalized your sleek outfit. Another day of being thrown into precarious situations by that red asshole. It was becoming a weekly thing, with Alastor requesting more and more information, especially from those Vee’s he hated so much. In fact, now that you thought about it, they were the only demons you snuck by. How obsessed they were with each other.

It was no easy task, getting through the security of that place. In fact, it was nearly impossible, seemingly getting harder every time. You had a cautious feeling that they knew what you were up to, and kept falling short of catching or stopping you. There were cameras pointed in every direction, every angle, in the highest quality imaginable. Every trip left your heart racing with adrenaline.

“On your way now, are you?” Alastor asked coyly. He waited for you at the entrance to the hotel, a glint in his eyes. Oh, how he loved playing with you like this. Watching you bend and break for him. He loved it. And you hated him for it.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get killed this time,” You said snidely, referencing the increasing danger of each trip. “Wouldn’t that be a treat for me.” You said this in a whisper, but Alastor still heard.

He bent at the waist to be eye level with you, that sinister grin of his lowering slightly. It seemed he had wanted to say something, his teeth parting for a moment before closing again. His grin perked back up and he straightened himself into a stand. He simply reached out and patted your head.

“Now, don’t go out with that kind of mindset! Why, you know our deal!” His lips curled in reference to the rather one-sided promise you made each other. To be honest, considering you never had to call for Alastor’s aid, you weren’t even comforted by the notion. Who’s to say he even shows up? How will he even know if you need help?

Alastor stepped towards you, his hands flapping as he shooed you out of the door. “The night is only so long! Go along!”

So, now you’re here. Tucked behind a corner near the Vee’s residence. There were cameras everywhere, obviously, and you swore you saw more than last time. What point does Alastor even have, making you come here so often? What more could he want? You knew him and Vox were rivals, but it wasn’t like Alastor didn’t know how to take care of the TV-head.

You had a sick feeling that Alastor just enjoyed making you do bullshit for him like this, and didn’t care much for the actual information. The thought drew a sneer on your face. If you weren’t literally soul bound to this guy, you would probably just let yourself get caught and likely killed on the spot. But, of course, your deal made that dream impossible.

With a couple hops on your toes, you began your brisk walk towards the back of the manor. You were hyper aware of all the cameras, and hoped that your dark outfit helped blend with the shadows.

However, the second you lifted a window and stepped foot into the building, lights flashed and an alarm rang. Fuck.

The television demon himself got to you surprisingly fast. As if he had been waiting. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have surprised you. You briefly wondered why it took them so long to have an alarm system in the first place, and began frantically looking for a way out. The window behind you had shut and locked. The hallway was incredibly narrow and Vox stood in the way.

Fuck it, you made a mad dash for the Overlord, hoping to catch him off guard. You raised a clawed hand and swiped at his television head. A pointless attack, you realize, as the screen nearly flickered for a moment; his wide, pixelated grin staring into you. Before you could move again, his arm tightly gripped at your throat. You felt an electrifying sensation, stinging through every nerve, and blacked out.

“Heyy, Al?” Charlie’s voice rang through the doorway of Alastor’s radio tower. “Have you seen (Y/N)..? She was supposed to help with some decorations.” She had opened the door without warning.

He paced back and forth in thought, gripping the top of his cane with one hand and tapping the end of it in his other. He didn’t respond to Charlie, but the question did ring in his head over and over. You hadn’t come back from the night before. You always came back before the day broke.

He didn’t know the feeling that stirred in his chest as he watched the minutes pass by. The hours pass by. All without a sight of you. He never thought to keep watch as you worked, refraining from sending his shadow to spy on the spy, as he always saw you as capable enough.

Besides, he thought to himself. What a waste of my time that would be. Fretting over a single demon.

“Alastor,” Charlie said again. He craned his neck to her, stopping his train of thought. His grin had a strain to it and his nose wrinkled in aggravation. Why was she in his space? He hated intrusions.

“What?” He said bluntly.

“(Y/N)?” She spoke your name again, hoping to prompt some conversation out of the Radio demon with the implied question.

Alastor composed himself, acting unphased by the… worry? That he felt. “Why would I know where she is? I take care of this hotel, but not so much the residents.” It was a true enough statement, as he preferred just watching the demons Charlie try desperately to rehabilitate and fail miserably every day.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” He interrupted Charlie before she could say anything, her mouth hanging open and words dying on her tongue. He briskly turned on his feet and walked towards her, standing at the doorway. “I would prefer you knock next time.” He shut the door on her.

He couldn’t handle the heavy feeling that threatened his lungs as he thought about what was happening at the Vee’s residence.

Did he really care to go out, risk a scene, risk the intel, just to get you? To make sure you were okay?

Yeah. He had to. He hated that feeling in his chest, especially as it just grew heavier and more overwhelming. He just chalked it up to the deal he had made with you putting a pressure on his own soul to hurry up and deal with it. But he couldn’t help the tightness that consumed him when he thought about what you were doing in that place. Or what they were doing to you. He brushed the emotion aside, trying his best to ignore it.

He argued with himself that yeah, he was only going because of that deal he had made. No, no way did he have a soft spot for you. No way in Hell. He was just doing this to hold up his deal. Yeah.

With a heavy sigh and a twitch at the corners of his lips, he brushed his talon-like fingers through the fringe of his hair, pushing it back before letting it fall into place again. He tried to maintain a leisurely composure, but a wild glint in his eye was proof enough that he was stressed out.

Best to get this over with. He had a deal to uphold. He opted for the faster route, melting into his shadow.

part ii part iii

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: kidnapping #kidnapping #alastor doesnt realize he Feels stuff

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bimobuddy · 3 months

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"I Wanna Play with the Kitty!"

SFW Hazbin TK fic

Lee!Husk, Ler!Niffty

A little bit of huskerdust if you look real close

Spoilers

Summary: Husk is just trying to finish up work, when he's suddenly handed a hyperactive little maid to look after, who quickly decides it's playtime

He didn't know exactly what time it was, all he knew was that it was time to close the bar, since business was getting slow and most people were turning in, heading back to their rooms. Husk sighed, letting out pent up stress from the day, stretched his wings, shook them out, then started to wipe down the counter.

It wasn't long before he heard a familiar voice coming down the hall, though instead of the usual crazy rambling, she was heard whimpering, immediately catching his attention and making his ears perk.

Angel walked into the lobby with Niffty in his arms being cradled like a child. He walked over to Husk and unceremoniously plopped her on his head.

"Aw what- *sigh* Come on!" Husk grumbled, looking up at Angel, who put his hands on his hips. "Her favorite side character in a book just died, it's your turn to watch her." "Manga." Niffty corrected, popping back up, wearing Husk's hat. "Manga, sorry sweetie. Anyway, Husk, you watch her, I told her she could play with the kitty." Niffty grinned, nodding. "I wanna play with the kitty."

"Angel are you effin' kidding me? I just got off work, I don't have time to babysit."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't have a soft spot for kids."

"She's twenty two."

".....Look me in the eyes and tell me you honestly see her as an adult."

"..... Fair."

Angel crossed his arms and nodded with an 'Mm-hm!' And made his way back toward the stairs. Husk could feel Niffty tug on his ears, earning an irritated groan from the bartender. "Niff, if you're gonna be up there, at least be gentle, I know to you I look like this big fluffy kitty-cat, but those are actually my ears you're pullin' on."

Niffty stopped for a moment, as if processing this information she's been given. "Okay!" She said, starting to rub his ears again, gentler this time. A bit too gentle. It tickled.

Husk let out a huff before he managed to shut himself up. "N-Niff, why don't you do somethin' ehelse for a while, kay?" He said, reaching up to try and grab her. Unfortunately, she was much faster, evading his hands and crawling down onto his back, between his wings before settling there.

"Nifft- no dont- grr... Alright fine, you can stay there, just let me work, kay kid?" He asked, before returning to work. And that's how it stayed for the next five or so minutes; Husk working, and Niffty behaving aside from the occasional opening of the cat demon's wings to look at them or to make them flap and pretend he was flying.

Husk didn't completely mind this. Angel was right, he did have a soft spot for kids, and as far as he was concerned, Niffty counted.

Unfortunately though, her grip on his wings shifted more toward the base, where they met his back. Not prepared for the sudden shock, Husk wasn't able to hide the sudden grin on his face or stop the surprised chuckles as his wings fluffed up.

"A-Alright, Niff, I thihihink ihit's time t-to gehet dohohown-" He started, trying to reach back to grab her, but his spread wings were blocking his arms from getting to her.

Niffty only started to scritch and pet his wings after this. "But Husk! I'm being gentle see??" Husk snorted and had to lean against the counter to hold himself up, not wanting to drop and accidentally hurt her. He buried his face in his arms and just laughed, his shoulders and wings shaking as he did so.

The more Niffty ran her fingers through his feathers, the more they fluttered and twitched as he snorted and laughed into the counter. He knew he could have stopped her, but he worried in doing so he'd either hurt her or make her start crying again, neither of which he wanted, so he decided to just try and endure it.

"Oooo is this where your wing bones connect??" She asked before gently digging into the spot just under his shoulder blades. Husk let out a loud laugh, standing straight up, his wings involuntarily flapping a little, tempted to fold in, but Niffty was there.

He was quick to snatch her up with his tail before she fell to the floor, and he held her up in front of him. "Alright missy, I'm starting to get the idea that this isn't an accident anymore." He panted. Niffty just smiled at him. And he couldn't help but grin back.

"Hey Niff, why don't we go pay a certain spider a visit, hm?"

"And I'll kill it and make it into a puppet!"

"Haha, no, we're not killing this one. Not literally anyway."

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!husk #ler!niffty

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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First Skateboard - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: A sequel to "Skater Girl" in which R (a professional skateboarder) gets a skateboard for Charlie.

A/N: I actually had the idea for this before the idea for Skater Girl but I felt like I had to write that one first. Yeah, enjoy. Also, all mentioned skateboarders are real people except the photographer.

Ever since you reconnected with Alex a few years ago, life has been going pretty well for you. On both a personal and professional level.

Professionally, you’ve dropped some of your best video parts ever, you brought home a couple of X Games, SLS, and Dew Tour medals and you backside-flipped El Toro before they tore it down.

In your personal life, you and Alex got married a few years ago and have since had a daughter Charlie.

Plus, you haven’t even been tempted to break your sobriety since that day you saw Alex at the bottom of the hill.

Good things all around.

And they were only going to get better because Reynolds, your close friend and the man in charge of Baker skateboards, called last week and told you to expect a surprise with your next board and merch delivery.

A delivery which just arrived.

Flinging the front food open, you shout thanks to the mailman before grabbing both boxes and heading inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Normally, all of your sponsorship deliveries get taken directly to either your car, for immediate use or to your “skate cave” (the garage) to be out of the way until you need them.

This time you carry them straight to the living room, where Alex and Charlie are hanging out.

“Hey Chuck,” you say, getting the attention of both your wife and daughter, “Uncle Andrew sent you a present.”

“Present?”

“Yea, little dude,” you confirm, setting both boxes down, “a present.”

As Charlie walks to you on slightly unsteady feet, you have to do your best to not laugh at the look on Alex’s face.

You know what she’s thinking, of course, the last time Reynolds sent you anything for Charlie, it was a baby dirt bike that was immediately banished to the garage.

Although, he’s assured you it's nothing that out there this time around.

Dropping to the ground beside the boxes, you shoot her what you hope is a reassuring smile before using a key to slice the tape and help Charlie open them.

When she does get the first open, you have to hold back another laugh because sitting on top of all the fresh merch is a bottle of Tylenol with the words “For Alex - Chill Pills” written on it.

Grabbing them before Charlie can, you toss them to their designated recipient.

“Looks like the Boss sent you something too, babe,” you say, carefully watching her face for any reaction.

It takes her a moment but eventually she just sighs deeply, putting the bottle somewhere Charlie can’t reach it, and speaks, “All of your friends are idiots, especially Reynolds.”

“I’ll make sure that I let him know you said that.”

Looking back down, you’re unsurprised to see Charlie already reaching into the box and pulling out some of the items.

It’s mostly shirts with the latest designs on them and you see a few packs of stickers and some hats in there as well.

Dropping one of the hats on the toddler’s head so that it covers her eyes, you hurriedly hide the stickers, sliding them underneath your leg. The last thing you want is for Alex to be mad because you let Charlie put one somewhere it shouldn’t go.

By the time she removes the hat, all stickers are out of sight and you’re already opening the box containing the decks.

Once it’s open you see exactly what Reynolds was talking about.

There sitting on top of the boards that you know are for you, is what has to be the smallest skateboard you have ever seen.

Smiling softly, you pass it to Charlie who immediately spins around to show Alex.

“Mommy,” she shouts, “Look what Uncle Andrew got me.”

The smile on Alex’s face is forced but she hides it well enough that Charlie can’t tell.

“That’s so cool, baby,” Alex says, “Why don’t you go put it in your room with your other toys.”

It takes a moment but Charlie does eventually run off to put the board away. You and Alex both stare after her silently waiting to see if she comes running back or if she gets distracted like she normally does.

When she doesn’t come rushing back, Alex immediately turns on you, face set in a hard glare.

“Seriously, Y/N,” she asks.

“What?”

“A skateboard? She’s not even three years old yet.”

“It’s just a board Alex, it’s perfectly safe,” you say calmly.

“You just got a cast taken off your arm last week.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot, Charlie isn’t going to be trying to drop in off roofs for a long time,” you try to explain, “Besides with me, Reynolds, and all the other guys, she’ll be perfectly safe.”

The look you get lets you know that your appeal isn’t working at all.

And if the look wasn’t enough to show you that Alex wasn’t moved by your words, what came out of her mouth surely is.

“I’m sorry that I don’t trust your idiot friends who nearly burned down their own warehouse to keep my daughter safe.”

Something about the way she says it pisses you off but the reasonable part of your brain knows that being angry isn’t going to make this conversation any easier.

So you take a moment, putting everything back in the boxes and grabbing them as you stand up.

“I’m gonna go put this stuff away,” you say, not looking at her, “Come talk to me when you remember that Charlie’s my kid too.”

“Y/N.”

You cut her off and continue walking away, “Seriously Alex, not now.”

A few weeks later, the incident is mostly forgotten, in that neither you nor Alex have brought it back up and have chosen to continue like it never happened.

At least that’s how you’ve been handling it until Alex walks into your bedroom one night after Charlie’s been put to bed with a concerned look on her face.

“What’s the matter,” you ask, setting your book down.

“The nanny canceled for tomorrow.”

“Oh shit.”

Alex has to hold back a smile as she rolls her eyes at your response and walks to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Yup,” she says, “And I can’t take her to training with me tomorrow, we have meetings in between our two sessions.”

“I’m kinda free in the morning, I’ve got a couple of calls with Nike and Red Bull,” you tell her, “the problem is the afternoon. Beagle and some of the guys are supposed to come down so we can get clips. Deadline’s coming up.”

You hear a groan followed by a light slight thump before Alex speaks again.

“Crap, can you take her with you,” she asks.

It’s your turn to grimace, the idea of having Charlie watch you and your friends practically throw yourself down stairs is not a very appealing one.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Alex continues speaking, “You can bring the board Reynolds sent her and show her what you do for work.”

“Uh, what,” you say confused.

“Last week, Charlie said that I play soccer for work and that you take phone calls for work,” she says in a way of explanation.

“I’m not sure how that managed to change your mind about her skateboarding.”

It takes her another moment to respond and you just sit there staring waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth.

When she does, she walks back out of the bathroom and says, “You don’t think it’s weird that our daughter has no idea what you do for work? It doesn’t bother you?”

“Uh, no,” it sounds like a question even though you don’t mean for it to. “I’m 33 years old and I have no clue what either of my parents did for work when I was a kid. I think my dad might have been in the mob.”

“Can you be serious for 5 minutes, Y/N/N?”

“I think I’d die if I tried,” you say with a grin, “Might even be offed by my mob boss father.”

“You’re intolerable,” Alex says getting into bed.

“So I’ve been told,” you respond, “Just relax, I’ll take Chuck with me tomorrow. We’ll hang out with Beagle and the boys and everything will be cool.”

And for the most part, the majority of the next morning is cool, your calls go well and you manage to get all the details you need for the team tours hammered out.

The afternoon is when things take a slight turn.

First, Beagle and the guys showed up a little early, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem but Figgy walked into the house and immediately went to wake Charlie up from her nap.

Then you had to try and get a toddler and five grown men out of the house. It was only the promise of you buying lunch that convinces your friends and the promise of being taught to skateboard that convinces Charlie to head out to the van.

After that, it's back to smooth sailing.

You guys manage to knock out a few spots, everybody getting the tricks or lines that they’ve been working.

It’s at the final spot that you realize that maybe Alex was right about not having your friends around Charlie.

It all happens so suddenly too.

One second you’re slamming after yet again failing to laser flip down the Valencia 20 stair and the next you’re hearing a little voice saying, “Mama, you just got fucking broke off!”

And the only thought you have, while you’re laying there trying to catch your breath, is that it’s your fault really. You're the one that left Dickson and Theotis watching her while you tried this trick.

You don’t even have the energy to tell her not to say things like that, you need every last ounce of it that you do have to pull yourself back up the stairs to give the trick another go.

You speak only a few words on your way back up, “Thanks, Charlie. Beagle, I’ve got it this try, man.”

“Yeah, man, let’s get it,” the filmer shouts up at you.

It’s probably going to be your last shot to nail this trick, your body is aching, your shirt is torn, and you're pretty sure that you’ve got a couple of scrapes leaking blood and staining it.

So taking a deep breath, you begin pushing towards the stairs again.

Next thing you know, you're at the bottom of the stairs still on your board rolling away. Figgy, Dickson, and MIke, your photographer, are hooting and hollering, Theotis is skating after you holding Charlie, and Beagle is running behind you, camera still in hand.

Slowing to a stop, you let yourself be surrounded by your friends and take Charlie into your arms, you look at Beagle who speaks first.

“That’s the ender right there man, we start the part with that last slam and we have gold bro,” he says.

Before you have a chance to respond, Charlie speaks.

“Mama that was so cool,” she practically yells in your face, “Teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe we work on the basics like standing on the board first, and then work our way up to things like that,” you tell her, already fearing the repercussions from Alex. “Come let’s go ride for a bit while Figgy tries to kill this rail.”

“It’ll be gnarly.”

That night when you get home, you’re unsurprised to see that Alex is already there.

“Babe, we’re back,” you shout in greeting.

“In the kitchen.”

Making your way there, you’re quick to try and greet her with a kiss but you’re shocked when she leans away instead of returning your affection.

When you pout at her, she just rolls her eyes and says, “You smell, you’re covered in dirt, and,” she pauses, “Is that blood?”

“Might be,” you shrug, “Can I have my kiss now?”

You lean in again only to be stopped by a hand to the chest pushing you away.

“Go take a shower and then I’ll think about it,” she says.

Taking a step back you sigh, “Ugh fine. Charlie tell your mommy about all the stuff you did today.”

You begin walking away as your daughter begins to ramble. You make it halfway to your room when you hear it.

“And then we went to a school and Mama got fucking broke off when…”

You go running back to the kitchen shouting, “Charlie no!”

Alex glares at you the second you make it to the doorway.

“Y/N,” her voice is stern, “Why is our toddler cursing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Never again, Y/N, never again.”

“Fair enough.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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princessofanarchy · 3 months

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hi! this is honestly my first fanfic ever so i know there's maybe a few things I'm not doing right. i'm fully open to feedback and suggestions to improve. hope y'all like it ;)

You, the reader, and Gojo Satoru were in what everyone would consider a great relationship. That is, until he broke up with you, citing his desire to keep you safe from the threats of the world that he was a part of. He was thorough in his separation from you, so thorough that, had you wanted to reach out to him when you found out you were pregnant, you would not have been able to.

Now, three years later, you've moved out to a quiet village near the sea on Okinawa Island where you've been raising your son as a single mother. You've resigned yourself to only worrying about your son's paternity when he becomes old enough to question it, and you've convinced yourself that you're completely over the blue eyed bastard.

One day, you're out, strolling the beach with your son propped on your hip. You're enjoying the peaceful scene, indulging in your son's fascination of the seaside. His is the kind of fascination that can only come from experiencing something novel. It's the last place you expect to lock eyes on Satoru after the wind sent your wide brimmed hat flying his way and landing at his feet.

Your grip on your son tightens and you unconsciously hold his head to your chest, hiding his face and the azure blue eyes that are exactly like the ones you're looking at now. You can't which of you is more in shock over the encounter. You stare at each other for a few moments too long, but you're the first to speak.

"Can you……pass me that hat?" You ask politely. That seems to snap him out of it, and he picks the hat up and dusts it off before handing it to you.

"Thank you." You place the hat on your head, still holding your squirming son to your chest, and turn away quickly.

"Wait!"

You freeze. Your heart jackhammers in your chest. You hear the sand shift beneath his feet as he approaches you.

"Could you turn around, please?" He asks softly. You hesitate.

"M-mama!" The toddler in your arms whimpers frustratedly as he tries to wiggle from your uncomfortably tight grip. Your stomach drops when you realise that you might have been hurting him and you loosen your grip quickly and place a kisses on his forehead and cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's sorry." You coo at him softly.

"Y/N?" Satoru calls out to you in a low voice from behind. His tone is unreadable. You consider, briefly, making a mad dash away from him. For some reason the desire to hide your son away from him has seized every fibre of your being. But you know damn well how futile that would be against Gojo Satoru, and it would only make him suspicious.

You turn slowly to face him, carefully hiding your son's face, and look up, into the eyes of the man that you weren't counting on seeing again anytime soon.

"Satoru. It's been a while." His name sounds foreign on your tongue, after not speaking it for almost three years. His eyes soften as he takes in your face. The expression makes your heart stutter.

"Yeah……it sure has been." He rubs the back of his head, a nervous trait of his. "You look, well."

"So do you." You respond evenly, as you wonder how you'll manage to get out of the interaction, hoping those damned eyes of his don't pick up on what you're trying to hide. You should have known better though, because when his eyes move from your face to the child in your arms, you knew that he had known from the moment your first locked eyes. His gaze travels back to your face, and he arches a snowy white brow. You press your lips together, not wanting to verbally confirm the obvious, and you both fall into a silent staring contest that lasts a few brief moments before he sighs deeply.

"Can I hold him?"

The immediate answer than springs to your tongue is a resounding 'No'. And right on its heels are all the things you wanted to scream at him when he left broken and abandoned three years ago. He sees it on your face, the myriad of feelings, the supressed hurt and anger.

"There's a lot of things we have to talk about." He says. "And we will, I promise. But for now, can I just -"

His words taper off as the child in your arms turns and looks at him curiously. You're watching Satoru's face the entire time. You see his breath catch. You see the shock in his eyes. Then you see something that wasn't there when he broke your heart; regret. Anger blooms within your chest.

"My house isn't too far from the beach." You hear yourself say, before you turn and walk away.

Satoru watches your retreating back for a moment before taking one step, then another, before he begins walking after you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #fanfic #writers on tumblr

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vanessamooney · 16 days

Text

The Age of Us Pt. 2 - Draco x Reader

Prompt: Glimpses into your lives through the years

Pairing: Draco x Slytherin!Reader

Part 1. Part 3 coming soon!

In Second Year you're starting to stand on your feet properly. You've come to Diagon Alley with Draco and his father just before the semester has started to collect the year's new spell books and props. The list sent out by Hogwarts was longer than last years and you'd become increasingly worried about being able to keep up between 'Gadding with Ghouls' and 'Holidays with Hags', all written by Gilderoy Lockhart no less.

The alley streets were bustling with witches and wizards of all sorts, pointed hats bouncing around comically and brooms alike. You had already run into fellow classmates from Hogwarts and stopped a plethora of times for polite conversation and familial introductions. Lucius has now excused himself from the two of you, trusting Draco with a satchel filled to the brim with gold galleons, instructing you two to meet him in front of Flourish and Botts with the books ready in exactly thirty minutes.

'I trust you'll be on time, Draco,' he sneered at his son, tapping his back with the serpentine cane he never parted ways with. When he turned to give you a polite nod and pat on the head with a heavy hand, he did so with a strange upturn of the corners of his lips. He had always liked you.

You weren't sure what Lucius had gone off to do or where he was doing whatever exactly, but you relished in the freedom because you'd been eyeing Magical Menagerie the second you all floo-powdered into the shopping district and had been scheming to convince Lucius and Draco to take you there.

Glancing at Draco with softened eyes, he's looking a little bit low-spirited and the weight of the galleons makes one of his arms hang lower than the other, so you pull him along by his shorter hand and shoot him a smile that lights up your entire face and makes his heart oddly skip a beat.

'Come on, Draco,' You egg him on, scratching the inside of his palm with your nails because you know he is ticklish there, and you know it will cheer him up, even if only momentarily.

He lets out a giggle only you can hear but you don't pay much attention because when you arrive outside Magical Menagerie you're bewitched by the sight before you: a grey kitten small enough to fit into your hands locked in a cage at the storefront. You coo at it, immediately forgetting about the blonde boy awkwardly trailing behind you.

'Wolfcat,' you read aloud the silver tag on the front of the rusted iron bars, 'female, 10 galleons,'

You whip around to your best friend and grab his free hand, squeezing it in excitement for all that you've got.

'Draco, how incredibly adorable she is!' you squeal, watching his stormy eyes soften at the sight before him.

He walks up to the front of the cage, poking a wiggling finger in through the bars to antagonise the creature and he is pleasantly surprised to find it rub its head against him, her yellow eyes big and glaring.

'I suppose she is,' He shrugs his shoulders, pulling a sulking Y/N along to Flourish and Botts in spite of your silent protests in the form of your pouts and glances off into the distance.

You had spent the entire time shopping for school books talking Draco's ears off about the kitten from earlier, so much so he was having to double check you were picking up the right copies of the books as you had placed the wrong ones in the basket too many times.

'Oh Draco, she was the sweetest thing' you went on, lazily dropping a copy of 'Intermediate Transfiguration' into the basket you tasked Draco with carrying.

When the two of you waited patiently out of the front of Flourish and Botts just as you'd agreed prior, you continued chatting as Draco seemingly zoned out, a heavy head in his hand. He thought about a peculiar bit of conversation he had overheard in your family's manor just a mere few weeks before first year began: 'The family owl is enough trouble,' your father would groan, his fingers squeezing the top of his nose bridge.

Draco himself didn't bring one of the three permitted animals to Hogwarts because he himself thought it was all too much effort for a companion and he already had his hands full with Crabbe, Goyle and you, not that he minded having his hands full with the latter.

With a sudden thought, he handed you the pile of textbooks that mere moments ago sat in his lap, practically shoving them into your hands.

'Ow, Draco, that's heavy, what are you…' you trailed off, watching his retreating form as he ran in the opposite direction of the meeting point.

'I'll be back soon!' he yelled back, but you were left all alone, confused and surrounded by hoards of strange witches and wizards.

Lucius finds you sitting on the stairs outside Flourish and Botts with a puffy pout on your lips, the stack of new books placed carelessly to your side. You've got your chin resting comfortably in your palms just as Draco did and you look to be in deep and confusing thought. He's got with him his own leather-bound book now clutched hard in his hands and he scans the rest of the crowd, but his son is no where to be seen. Pah. Of course.

'Y/N, where is Draco?' He askes, lending you a firm hand to help you up off the steps and you carefully slip your hand in his and jolt up, dusting off your robes with a sheepish smile.

"I'm not sure, he left some minutes ago and went that w…' you trail off when you glance in the direction Draco ran, gasping as you see the devil himself running towards you, eyes wide as dinner plates when they land on his father whom by now has turned to see his son making a fool of himself. He is clutching in his arms something that appears to be squirming and you squint to try and make out what it is.

A grey wolfkitten lands into your arms and Draco is so out of breath from running when he looks at your dazed expression but he still manages a smirk as you press a well-earnt kiss to his rosy cheeks.

Lucius taps his son on his back softly with his walking cane, raising an eyebrow and managing his own twinge of a smile tantalising the corners of his lips. He watches his son proudly as he is watching you.

The blurs of the everyday witches and wizards spinning around you don't catch your eye because you're mesmerised by the creature in your arms; mesmerised by your best friend, too. You catch a glimpse of the blue sky and see within it the night.

'I think I'll name her Cassiopeia,' your eyes twinkle like the constellation that falls from your lips and Draco watches the stars swirl within you.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

You're running through the hallways, Draco's hand in yours as you lead him to the Clocktower Courtyard. You are giggling and glancing back to him to make sure he's still keeping up with you and the opulent perfume in your hair blinds his senses. You shiver into him from the bitter winter breeze that stalks you through the castle and he grips your hand harder when he feels your vibrations.

You come to a stop when you're surrounded by greenery taking over archways, absorbing the glory of the courtyard with your eyes closed, taking in its sweet earthy aroma. An old water fountain lays in the middle of it all, guarded by four magnificent stone gargoyles on each corner. Moss and water has stained them a muddy grey, but your eyes are still enchanted from the view; you always liked coming here.

'Why are we here at this dingy old fountain, Y/N?' Draco groans, stretching a gloved hand to lean on a gargoyle. You gasp as his disrespect and you click your tongue, making him flail his arms as he tries to regain his balance.

'A dingy fountain?' You're scolding him like his mother usually does, repeating back his absurd view of the world around him. 'This isn't just any fountain,' you say, slithering around it, dancing your fingers from stone to stone, your gaze never leaving Draco's. 'Legend has it if you flick a knut into it while making a wish, it'll come true,'

The plush rabbit earmuffs on your head rises slightly as you speak, and with a gentle sigh Draco tenderly adjusts your earmuffs back down while anxiously avoiding your eyes as he tenderly touches you.

'Is that so?' he mumbles.

You nod eagerly at him, presenting two knuts in your gloved palm that you'd been saving in your pockets. He reluctantly takes one, giving you a strange look but you beam in elation anyway, enchanted by the glistening promises of the fountain. Draco holds the knut in his hand, his expression a mix of scepticism and curiosity. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his wish on his heart.

With a mischievous grin, you look into Draco's stormy eyes and say, 'Alright, on the count of three. One… two… three!'

Simultaneously you both flick your knuts into the fountain, watching as they disappear beneath the surface with a small splash. You pat your flushed face with an awkward flutter of fingers, seeing if you feel any different, inspecting the grass below your feet just a little closer. The moment stretches, filled with anticipation and hope from the both of you.

'What did you wish for?' your voice is barely above a croaky whisper but you're unable to contain your excitement and ask anyway.

Draco hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the fountain. He doesn't dare to admit he wished for you and the weight of his silence crushes you.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Gilderoy Lockhart's charm filled the air like a sweet perfume, ensnaring the hearts of the young Gryffindor girls who hung on his every word. With a flick of his cape, he shed the garment, letting it fall carelessly into the eager crowd below, who scrambled to catch a piece of the famed hero.

You, however, had never been taken by Lockhart's facade. Even in the best of times, you found his antics grating, feigning ignorance whenever your dorm-mates gushed over his supposed heroic feats. One night, out of curiosity, you had reluctantly flipped through his autographed autobiography, but each boastful comment and exaggerated deed only served to deepen your disdain. Despite your love for reading, you couldn't bring yourself to admire a story painted in lies and arrogance.

But as Draco Malfoy was summoned to the stage by Snape to duel Harry, you found yourself eagerly pushing through the crowd of Slytherins to get a better view. You cheered when Draco sent Harry flying across the stage and winced when the tables turned, but it was when Draco summoned the snake that your heart skipped a beat. Watching in horror as Potter seemingly controlled the creature with a strange tongue, you were pulled away from the midst of the chaos by Draco's urgent grip, and he whisked you into the safety of the Slytherin common room.

"That Potter is downright evil, I'm telling you!" Draco seethed, his frustration palpable as he slammed his fists onto the desk. He was a hurricane when he wanted to be, pacing around with a heavy energy, turning from a constellation into a supernova. Potter did this often to him, and although the others insisted he was masterfully exaggerating, you never seemed to think so - something wasn't right with Harry, and now this.

Motioning for him to join you on the worn leather couch, Draco sank down beside you, his head falling heavily into your lap as he let out a weary sigh. You gazed down at him with wide eyes, offering silent comfort as you gently traced circles on the back of his hand. You were always there to trace circles on the back of his hand.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

When Draco tells you he has made the Slytherin Quidditch Team you're sat on the banks of the black lake. The sun is dancing upon the surface of the water, casting reflections within it that didn't quite seem to match with the gentle surroundings you're enveloped in but you pay it no attention because as Draco's words sink in, the world around you fades into insignificance.

The muggle book he despised that was grasped within your fingertips moments before hits the ground with a soft thump and the paper warps, staining with the green and brown of the ground. There is no room for a pregnant pause because before you can think of a congratulations worthy of Draco's achievements, you've already tackled him in a hug and twigs and dandelions have already intertwined in your hair and clothes; you're already grinning with glee, your faces already inches away and Draco has already licked his lips in anticipation but you press an adoring kiss to the side of his cheek and whisper to him how proud you are of him, in a way intended only for him to hear.

You don't notice the flash of disappointment in his eyes when your lips miss his, or how awkward his movements become. Nothing else matters, because your best friend is Slytherin's brand new Seeker and you can't possibly think of anything else.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Christmas morning brings with it a myriad of thoughtfully wrapped packages from your family and friends, appearing under an evergreen pine decorated with baubles and ribbons in the Slytherin common room. You yawn audibly, rushing to flatten the wrinkles out of your Christmas pyjamas before you run down the stairs from your dorm. Draco is already waiting for you in the common room, leaning patiently against the oak table, his hair slicked back and his own pyjamas ironed completely straight. When he spots you paused at the top of the stairs, his eyes soften and he stretches his arms out in anticipation of feeling you nuzzled into his chest.

The decision to spend Christmas at Hogwarts this year didn't come easy, and you recall with a smile how you and Draco were making fun of students who did just a mere few weeks ago - after all, what else shows your parents love you other than stuffing you away in school over the holidays? But between the entertainment from the Chamber of Secrets being opened and the winter travels your parents embarked on without you, you and Draco both agreed to spend winter this year together at Hogwarts - despite Narcissa and Lucius' best wishes.

Crabbe and Goyle had also decided to stay the festive winter season to keep Draco and you company - despite your best wishes - and they now watched with narrow eyes from the couch as your petite figure floated down the girl's staircase and straight into Draco's arms. When he twirled you around the room they audibly wretched in disgust, but you felt like a princess anyway and they became TV static in the background of your mind.

To find a gift for Draco did not come easy. The lead up to Winter break was spent with hours of frustration and punctilious reading in the castle library as you diligently worked to fabricate from the thin Yule air a charmed snow globe containing a singular, shared memory:

Perched atop the dew-kissed grass surrounding the grandeur Malfoy Manor, air heavy with the scent of blooming night-flowers, the myriad of stars scattered across the heavens blinked like diamonds strewn upon midnight velvet. You saw within the stars a constellation that bore his name, the boy laying so arrantly next to you: Draco. And with a quiet reverence, you pointed upwards in awe, seeing within the stars him, and within him the very stars he had been named after.

With a soft smile tugging on your lips, you direct Draco to the pine, breaking your gaze buoyantly when you lean down to cradle the parchment wrapped globe that sat so patiently beneath the tree, a swirl of memories replaying in it persistently under its cover.

'For you,' you hand the package to him, biting your lip in anticipation, and you feel within you a twinge of constraint but your eyes gleam anyway, 'Merry Christmas, Draco.'

Draco couldn't break his gaze from your glowing face. As he tore the parchment away he did so neatly, mesmerised by the mere existence of you. The background of Christmas morning occupied by the calamities swirling in the black lake just outside the common room windows and the intrusive nature of his friends meant nothing to him because in that moment when his eyes found the memory you so tenderly illustrated within the snow globe, he could think of nothing else - and he didn’t want to.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

You're standing in the castle's greenhouse, its windows fogged up with humidity cut through by the slow paths of common snails as they journey into the unknown. The air outside is cool, Winter has started to take its course and the frost of its greedy air snaps; but inside the safe haven of the greenhouse the air is warm and pungent with earthly aromas.

The vastness of the greenhouse is filled with magical plants and fungi alike stretched out before you but you're humming as you tend to a healthy collective of starthistle, mushing its millets between your fingers to release the powder contained within them. You carefully collected the fine dust in tiny cork bottles and placed them neatly in organised lines on the gardener's desk, just as tentatively asked by Madam Sprout.

With a flick of your quill, you've checked off another task on the consciously written list and you whip around to work on the next task: watering the asphodel and pruning their tender leaves as needed. You'd been under the instructions of Madam Sprout for the last few weeks, working diligently in the greenhouse and taking care of the housekeeping for the hoards of students taking herbology.

You couldn't quite put into words why the greenery drew you in, perhaps

it was the sense of tranquility that enveloped you as you worked among the plants, or maybe it was the reward of nurturing life and watching it thrive under your care. Whatever the reason, the greenhouse had become your sanctuary, a place where you felt truly at peace and you'd often visited to escape the chaos of the castle.

As you carefully watered the asphodel and delicately pruned their leaves, you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of nature. Each plant seemed to have its own unique personality, its own story to tell. Some were robust and hearty, while others were delicate and fragile, requiring extra care and attention.

Lost in a swirl of thoughts, you didn't notice the approach of another or the creak of the greenhouse doors until a familiar voice broke through the silence of the mist.

'Slaving away to pass herbology?' Draco coaxed, his tone teasing yet warm as he stepped into view from behind swarms of the alihotsy tree foliage.

You glanced up, offering him a smile as your hands continued to prune. Draco had taken to visiting you in the greenhouse whenever he could steal a moment away from his studies or Quidditch practice. Though he often teased you about your love for plants, you could've sworn to see genuine fondness nestled in-between the specks of blue in his eyes.

'Someone has to keep these plants in line,' you replied playfully, gesturing to the lush greenery around you.

Draco chuckled, stepping closer to inspect the asphodel with interest. 'I must admit, I would much rather attend Sprouts lessons than McGonagall's,'

'They're all the same anyway,' Draco grumbles, reaching to absentmindedly mush a leaf between the pads of his fingers.

'Are they?' You beckon, giving him a knowing stare as you pat the soil around the asphodel a little harder than before.

'Potter,' he sneers, gaze lowering. Something must've happened.

But instead of delving deeper into the matter, you decide to shift the conversation to something lighter, knowing it is best to not scratch at fresh wounds.

"Well, since you're here, how about lending me a hand with the watering?" you suggest, flashing Draco a mischievous grin, your eyes sparkling as they always do.

Draco raises an eyebrow, but a playful smirk dances across his lips. "I suppose I could manage that," he concedes, rolling up his sleeves as he joins you at the watering cans.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Draco entered the Slytherin common room cursing the puffing lady in the painting, his steps quiet against the plush carpeting. Crabbe and Goyle had snuck out in the middle of the night to threaten house elves for leftovers again, despite Draco's orders. In spite of his best efforts, Snape had already caught his cronies, muttering scolding admonitions, and sending the trio back to the dorms; but not before confiscating a pile of blueberry muffins nestled into Crabbe and Goyle's arms.

The dim light of the flickering fire cast a warm glow over the room, and the henchmen were ordered upstairs, their heavy footsteps shaking the dungeons. But as Draco made his way upstairs after them, he couldn't help but notice a figure slumped over one of the tables, surrounded by a scattering of books and parchment.

Curiosity piqued, Draco approached, recognizing you, nestled amidst your study materials. Your head rested on your arms, your breathing steady and deep as sleep claimed you in the midst of your studies. Draco couldn't help but smile softly at the sight, finding a certain charm in your dedication to your studies, even if it meant falling asleep in the common room and spending less time with him.

With gentle hands, Draco carefully gathered your belongings, setting aside your books and parchment before lifting you into his arms. 'A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' he scoffed gently and to this you stirred slightly, murmuring soft nothings in your sleep, but didn't wake as Draco cradled you against his chest, your head nestling against his shoulder.

With practiced ease, Draco made his way through the common room towards the staircase leading to the girls dormitories, your soft purrs of sleep tickling his chest in a way that shortened his breathing and sent a flutter through his heart.

As he reached your dormitory door, Draco hesitated for a moment, admiring the peaceful expression on your sleeping face. Gently, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, carefully laying you down on your emerald bed and tucking the blankets around you.

For a moment, Draco lingered, watching you sleep with a soft smile before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving you to rest peacefully in the warmth of your bed.

Unbeknownst to him, Pansy lay awake in her own bed, observing the scene with narrowed eyes, her mind already scheming with endless possibilities.

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eomayas · 11 months

Text

new thing (pt.2) • pcy

pairing: chanyeol x f reader, age gap

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!!! chanyeol is a munch! little bit fluffy

synopsis: after running into chanyeol, he asks you out on a date, and you’re the dessert.

warnings: oral (f receiving), praise, p in v, pwp

it certainly wasn’t the last time you saw chanyeol. no, you saw him exactly three days after that, when you ran into him at a supermarket you rarely ever shop at. you were simply in the area, because it’s close to your job, and bumped into him on your way to check out. all you had in your hands was a package of wholegrain crackers that you and seulgi liked, and kombucha. he, on the other hand, had a basketful of stuff, which made you feel extremely young.

he noticed you first, your name leaving his lips in a way that made your heart jump and your stomach flip. you didn’t know why you were nervous—you ran into people you’ve had sex with before—but it was different, seeing him outside of the bar setting. he was in a plain black tshirt, black joggers, sneakers, and a yankee hat; the outfit should not have set you off, but it did. the simple sexiness of it all made your core jump.

you said hi, and you’re grateful that he’s personable, because you forgot how to hold a conversation. he could definitely sense your nervousness, and kept the conversation short, ending it with asking you to lunch exactly a week from the first time you guys had sex. you were stunned, but you said yes, of course.

that saturday came around, and you guys met at a brunch restaurant that you’d probably only ever go to if you and seulgi have good news, or really wanted to treat yourselves. the inside was beautiful and the menu was expensive, and chanyeol didn’t even flinch to pull his card out and pay for you meal. it shocked you, and you hoped you didn’t show it because you’re used to men either wanting to split the bill, or begrudgingly pulling out their wallets.

you learned that day that he’s the oldest sibling to a younger brother, that he’s a music producer and songwriter, and that he originally went to school for data science before dropping out to pursue music. he doesn’t check his phone the entire time you are both together, and he checks on you to make sure you made it home thirty minutes after you leave. he asks you questions about yourself, and smiles when you start most of your sentences with ‘ummm’, whereas the men—boys—you’ve been with before him would have lost interest in what you were saying immediately. it’s safe to say chanyeol is a real man compared to your exes, and it’s a very foreign experience, though not unpleasant and unwelcomed. before the night was over, he asked to see you again, which is currently what you’re getting ready for on a friday night.

you finish clasping your large hoops in your ear and do a once-over in the mirror. you thin black dress clings to your body in all of the right ways, but it’s real intent is for chanyeol to rip it off of you by the end of the night.

“okay, seul, how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of your room and poking into the doorway or hers. seulgi looks at you and screeches, clapping her hands together.

“bitch, you look too good!” she yells, and you pose dramatically in her doorway. “i take it you won’t be coming home tonight?” seulgi asks, a grin on her face.

you blush at the thought of staying with chanyeol. “we’ll see,” is all you say, but you’re hoping that she’s correct. your phone buzzes in your shoulder bag, and you quickly slide it off of your shoulder to answer the call. you can barely keep the smile off of your face as you say, “hi.” into the receiver.

“hey, y/n, im outside,” chanyeol says, and you all but rush to say ‘okay’, and quickly hang up.

“was that chanyeol?” seulgi asks and you nod, giddy even though you’ve seen him twice since the very first time you met. “have fun! use a condom!” she says, digging in her bedside drawer and tossing one to you before you leave. you catch it and put it in your bag, just in case.

outside, his matte black corvette awaits. chanyeol gets out of the car to greet you, smiling when he sees you. you try to keep your walk as normal as you can with his eyes on you, and he holds out a hand once you get close. “hey,” he says, gently tugging you close.

“hi,” he gives you a soft kiss on your lips, one of his hands on the small of your back. he pulls away and opens the passenger door for you and you thank him, sliding in. he discreetly checks out your backside as you get in, and runs a hand through his hair. it was going to be a long night.

chanyeol helps you out of his car, and you gaze up at his large house in awe. it’s a huge tan house with a black door and a slanted roof. large windows adorn the upper level of the house, one dead center which looks like it’s supposed to be the window a sun room. “nice,” you say, glancing over at him. he shrugs to be modest, but he knows he has a nice house—he worked for it.

he grabs your hand and leads you to the front door, unlocking it and pulling you inside. it’s even more excellent inside, and you can’t believe you’re actually in a home like this and know somebody with a home like this. chanyeol gives you a tour of the entire downstairs, showing you the kitchen that has a smart refrigerator and stainless steel appliances, the large living room with ample room and a large tv, and a large, gray L-shaped sofa.

“do you want anything to drink? i have water, wine… uh… tequila?” he says after you two finish downstairs and go back towards the kitchen.

“i’m good, thanks,” you say. he nods and closes the fridge, gesturing to the stairs for you to start going up. you do, and he follows after you. he can’t help but keep his eyes on your ass, and when you guys get to the top of the stairs, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him, placing a kiss on your neck. you reach back and put a hand on the side of his face, holding him there briefly as he starts walking you to a room that you can only presume is his.

you appear to be correct when you push the door open. chanyeol straightens up and loosens his hood on you. “sorry, this was a douche move—let me show you the sun room,” he says, pulling you out and across the hall to a room where you can imagine spending every hour of everyday. there are plants strewn around, some hanging from the ceiling, and a comfortable looking tan couch. there’s also a reading nook, and lots of pillows and blankets for maximum comfort. in front of the window is a telescope, and you go over to it. “do you use this a lot?” you ask him, putting your eye to the lens and looking out at the moon. you let out a small gasp, feeling like a kid at the planetarium.

chanyeol shrugs behind you, stuffing his hands in his jeans pocket. “sometimes, yeah,” he replies, and you turn around, a smile on your face.

“well, it’s really cool in here,” you say, walking back over and standing in front of him. chanyeol smiles down at you and gently grabs your chin, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

you let him lead you back into his bedroom, where you drop onto the corner of his bed to start unlacing your heels. chanyeol removes his jacket and hangs it up in the closet like an adult, whereas you’d just throw it on the closest surface and deal with it another day. his room is quite literally spotless, and everything looks like it belongs.

chanyeol comes back from putting his coat away and notices you’re still removing one shoe, sirs down next to you, grabbing the foot you haven’t started on yet, placing it in his lap, and untying your heels that lace all the way up your calf. when both of your shoes are off, you thank him and flex your foot to relieve some of the pain of the heels. he gently kneads at your calf and you want to sigh at the gesture, but you keep it to yourself. “i’ve had a lot of fun tonight,” you say to him, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly.

“i’m glad,” he says, leaning over and kissing you with more force than the last one. his hand stills on your calf while his other one slide up your thigh and tugs you closer to him, so he’s sitting sideways in between your legs.

chanyeol adjusts so you’re lying flat on the bed and he’s hovering over you, the chain he typically keeps tucked into a shirt dangling in front of your face. you put a hand on the back of his neck and pull him down to you, hooking a leg around his waist as you kiss him deeply. he moves his lips down to your neck and you hold onto his shoulders and grind your lower half into him. “take this dress of, pretty girl,” he says, pulling away from you and resting on his knees.

you can’t help but blush at the pet name and quickly pull your arms out of your sleeves and push the dress down you legs. he helps you by pulling it down the rest of the way and leaving you in a black bra and matching underwear. you feel shy under his gaze, even though you’ve already had sex with him before. but this feels more intimate—it is more intimate than the first time—and you haven’t felt this shy since the time you lost your virginity.

you prop yourself up on your elbows as his eyes rake across your body. his drags his fingertips down your abdomen to the tops of your thighs, and goosebumps rise on your skin. because you can’t take the way he’s looking at you, you lean up and kiss him, pulling him back down to you. you slide your hands down his back and underneath his shirt, feeling the skin of his muscular back. you swear he flexes to show off, because when he pulls away to rip off his shirt, he has a cocky grin on his face.

chanyeol kisses you deeply before kissing down your body, starting with your left leg and kissing all the way down to your ankle before doing the same thing on the right side, but going up.

he pulls your underwear down, and you open your legs wider and bend them so he has more space. you expect him to start fingering you, but instead he moves his face down to your heat, and you quickly sit up. “no, chanyeol, you don’t have to do that,” you say, trying to scoot away from him. most of the guys you’ve been with weren’t into giving oral, so you stopped asking or expecting them to do it.

chanyeol looks up at you, confusion etched on his face. “but… i want to,” he says, his eyes boring into yours.

“you want to?” you ask, disbelief in your voice. he chuckles and you tense as the sound vibrates off of your core.

“yes, y/n, i want to eat you out. is that okay?” he asks, kissing the inside of your knee. when he sees the look on your face, his eyebrows furrow. “wait—have you never been given head before?” he asks.

you feel embarrassed to shake your head, because he seems so into it. “i mean, no, i guess i haven’t,” you say, looking away from him.

“do you want me to?” he asks, his hand absentmindedly stroking your calf.

you do. you’re so used to giving, it’d be nice to receive, especially when it’s a mutual want. you look down at him and see it in his eyes—he looks like he’s been given a plate of food after starving for so long.

you nod your head. “yes,” you say. chanyeol licks his lips and looks down at your pussy, holding himself back from completely ravishing you.

“just lay back, and relax, y/n,” he says, flicking his eyes up to meet you before going back down to your cunt. you let out a breath and do as he says, relaxing your legs and looking up at the ceiling. “and look at me.” he orders. when you do, he immediately connects his lips to your second pair, and starts licking and sucking.

you gasp and start to close your legs, but he muscles them open using his shoulders. you squirm as he flicks his tongue back and forth, suckling on your clit. “stop moving,” he says, not removing his face from in between your legs. you keep yourself still, your chest rising and falling rapidly at the feeling of his voice against your core.

your back arches off the bed when he chooses to add his long, thick, fingers into the mix. “ch-chanyeol!” you shout in a broken moan. you let out a string of curses as he sucks on your clit and pumps his fingers in and out of you.

you can’t remember the last time you felt this good during foreplay. nobody has ever tended to your needs the way chanyeol is, and it’s slightly unbelievable that he’s real.

but he’s very real, and he lets himself be known when he shakes his head side to side. you fist the sheets on his bed and cry out his name. “fuck, yeol, i-“ a broken cry of his name gets caught in your throat and a strange feeling in your stomach, like a balloon that’s been filled up with too much air, fills the bottom of your stomach.

chanyeol pulls you impossibly closer to him and hooks his arms around your thighs. his nose bumps your clit endlessly, and your legs start to shake. the balloon keeps getting filled, until it snaps and you thrash around on the bed, seeing spots as you scream out chanyeols name.

“damn,” is all he says as you gush all over his face, some of it dripping down your center and onto his sheets. he can’t help but watch in amazement as you keep on releasing, your pussy practically throbbing. he watches as you clench around absolutely nothing, and can’t help but get hard. if there’s one thing chanyeol likes to do, it is please people. but he particularly likes pleasing women by using his mouth and tongue, and he can tell when he succeeds—like right now.

he doesn’t even give you a minute to calm down, because he’s back at your core lapping up all of your juices. “chanyeol, wait!” you cry, but your hand on his head, holding him at your cunt says otherwise. when you start trying to crawl away from him is when he lets up.

the entire bottom half of his face glistens when he gets out from in between your legs. you can’t even look at him, feeling so bare and embarrassed, because you can feel a wet spot on the sheets. “you alright?” he asks, a smirk on his face.

“mhm,” you say, pressing your legs together.

“look at me.”

you do, and with hooded eyes. you can’t help but giggle at how crazy he looks with only half of his face wet. you glance down at his lower half, the tent in his pants hard to ignore. you motion for him to come closer.

you reach for his waistband, undoing the button and zipper before pushing down his pants, along with his briefs, his dick hard and throbbing, bobbing in wait. you look up at him as you kiss below his belly button and down his happy trail. when you grab ahold of his dick, he gently stops you, and you frown. “i really just need to be inside of you right now,” he says, pushing the rest of his clothes off.

you smile and he leans down to kiss you, pushing you back onto the bed. “condom,” you remind him as he starts to line himself up.

“right,” he says, quickly getting off of you and and going to his bedside table. you unhook your bra as you wait for him, pinching one of your nipples in between your fingers before groping your own chest. you nearly start to touch yourself until he’s back in front of you, an eyebrow raised. “couldn’t wait?” he asks teasingly, rolling the condom on.

“no,” he shakes his head at you and holds his dick by the base. “hurry up!” you whine, reaching for him.

“good girls get what they want.”

“we both know i’m not.”

he smirks down at you, pressing the tip against your puffy folds. “no,” chanyeol says, rubbing it up and down. “you aren’t.” and then he pushes into you, air feeling like it’s left your lungs. you’re not used to him in the slightest, and you’ve never been stretched like this until him. even when you were riding him almost two weeks ago, it took you some time to get used to him.

“fuck!” you cry, holding onto his forearms. the chain hanging from his neck dangles in front of your face as he thrusts into you. it gently hits your nose every time he rocks into you, and all it does is get you more turned on. “faster, yeol.” you moan, sliding your hands up his arms and splaying them across his back.

chanyeol pounds into you, making your toes curl and back arch into his chest. you dig your nails into his skin, leaving indents. chanyeol looks down at you and watches how your face twists up on pleasure as you moan out his name. his chain continues to tap against your nose, and he moves to take it off, but you stop him. “leave it on!” you groan, wrapping a leg around his hip.

you take one hand and grab him by the necklace and pull his lips down to you, not exactly kissing but your noses touching. “you feel so good,” you moan, a hand in his hair.

“you’re so tight, fuck,” he groans, kissing your neck. he grips one of your hips tightly and ruts into you relentlessly, your nails scratching up his back.

when he comes, it’s loud and he’s saying all types of filthy things, calling you pretty and baby, two new pet names to add to the list. you come after him, clenching around his dick and making him whimper in your ear, which almost makes you come again. he has to pull himself out of you for self control, but your grip on him makes it much harder. “baby, cmon,” he begs, his breath catching in his throat.

you finally relax enough for him to pull out with a groan, and you curl into yourself with a whimper, your heart beating quickly. “you okay?” he asks, concern in your voice. all you can do is give him a thumbs up, which he laughs at and then kisses the pad of your finger. “i’ll be back.” he says before getting off of the bed.

by the time he’s come back, your sitting up, criss-cross and naked, on his bed. he comes back in sweats and no shirt, and gives you a small smile. chanyeol offers you a tshirt, which you take, and slip on. he finds your underwear, which you put on as well, so you’re winney-the-pooh-ing it. chanyeol crawls onto the bed next to you and props himself up on his elbow. “so..?” he questions and you raise an eyebrow.

“you want me to rate our sex?” you ask, giving him an incredulous look. he shrugs, a smirk on his face and you roll your eyes and pretend to think hard. “hmm…” you say, tapping your chin, and he scoffs and jumps on top of you, caging you beneath him. you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. there’s no way you’re going for round two, but you want to be close to him.

to your gain, you do spend the night, and you tell seulgi, who seems way too excited for you, but supports nonetheless.

#exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #exo smut #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol smut #chanyeol x you #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol series #chanyeol fic #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Note

I can’t help but imagining jack and baby cakes getting a tiny little cowboy hat for their baby

This is seriously such a cute idea, omg

A Blessing

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink (what’s new), breeding kink (ooh this is new), lactation kink (this is new too!), talk of pregnancy, unprotected vaginal sex, soft dom daddy whiskey, very brief mentions of loss/death

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A/N: I'm so in love with him I can't stand it.

Not beta-read, read at your own risk my friends

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Daddycember Masterlist

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In your opinion, there wasn’t a better way to tell him. After you found out yourself, it was only a matter of time before he found out, too. And you didn’t want it to be by accident, and you didn’t want him to wait. The moment just flowed so freely, his words sparking something inside of you.

“From now on, sugar,” When he looked up into your eyes, your smaller frame sitting snugly on his lap, you were able to see everything. Every bit of your husband’s love and genuine care on display. “It’s just you and me.”

Swallowing, you felt your anxiety fizzle through your veins, excitement and worry all wrapped into one. And he noticed your change in expression, his own now frowning a bit. “Well… maybe not just you and me.”

Almost nervously, he laughs. Feeling unsure. “What do you mean? Teddy?”

Your new puppy is already asleep in his crate, though it pains you to see. You can’t wait until he’s old enough to sleep on the bed with you.

“No… not exactly.” Giggling nervously, you sigh, looking down.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Jack,” Looking back up into his eyes, you take a deep breath, deciding to be forward with him. “I’m pregnant, baby.”

Immediately, the muscles in his face drop, a look of tender shock washing over him. Slowly, his head moves back, getting a better look at you.

“No, you’re not.” He says blankly, eyes searching your own for any sense of hesitation.

Smiling brightly, you nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“What, I mean, you…” Those warm brown eyes then drop down to your tummy, staring dumbly at you. “Really? Are you s-sure?”

Internally, his heart is racing, throat going dry as he processes this. I’m gonna be a dad?

“Yes, baby. I’m sure. I took like ten tests.” You’re laughing now, hands holding his cheeks to lift his eyeline to you. “I told you I’d give you babies, honey.”

“I can’t believe this.” All at once, his emotions hit the surface, a gentle wetness forming on his lower lashline. “Baby, oh my god.”

Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around you, face resting against your chest. It’s a tight embrace, forcing your body against his. He can’t even describe all of the emotions he’s feeling right now. Something between pride and disbelief and gratitude and love. Always so much love for you.

“How, how far along are you?” Chuckling, he shakes his head, kissing your covered chest. “Babycakes, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this.”

“I’m not sure.” Lowering yourself, you turn, resting your cheek on the top of his head while stroking his hair. “No more than a few weeks; a little over a month, probably.”

“Well, let’s schedule you a doctor’s appointment, sweetheart. Let’s make sure you’re okay, that everything is ready.”

“Ready?” You giggle, looking down at him.

“Well, yeah! We gotta make sure they’re healthy, make sure you’re healthy. Figure out how far along you are and start planning. You know, I’ve always thought about a ranch-themed nursery.”

This time, a big-bellied laugh escapes you. “Of course you have.”

“Honey, we’re gonna have a baby.”

While the two of you have talked about kids before, he never really came to terms with the fact that it would happen again. Ever since losing his first wife Anna, and their unborn son Rhett, he didn’t think it was possible to be gifted such a blessing again. But here you are, giving him everything he could ever want, giving him the entire goddamn world.

“I’ll always be here, sweetheart. I’ll always protect you, provide for you - you know that, don’t you?” Immediately, worry consumes him, worry and determination. He won’t let what happened to them happen to you. You’re the most precious thing he’s ever had, he won’t ever lose you.

“Of course, I do.” Kissing the tip of his nose, you smile. “You made those promises to me on the day of our wedding. But I knew it before then, too.”

Your husband then sighs, sucking in a deep breath shortly thereafter. He’s holding onto you like he’ll never let you go. And he never will.

“I know this is obviously really soon, but…”

Jack’s eyes are on you as you speak, his attention unwavering. He can’t believe you’re his wife, can’t believe you’re going to be the mother of his child.

“Do any names come to mind?” You’ve discussed names before, but you’re wondering if any stand out to him now.

He nods, smiling. “You know I like Henry and Jasper.”

At this, you hum. You’ve always loved the name Henry, and have had a fondness for the name Jasper since he introduced it to you. “And for a girl?”

“Rowan or Violet.” Jack says firmly, “I love those names.” This makes you grin; you’d introduced him to both of them.

“Jack?”

“Hm?” He’s still gazing up at you, resting his chin gently on your chest. The expression on his handsome face is entirely lovestruck, in absolute awe of the vision of you. “What is it, baby?” His hands are caressing your back, fingers tracing small, delicate circles.

“I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, baby doll.” He looks like such a puppy right now, staring at you with an incredible amount of adoration. “I can’t believe you’re giving me a baby.”

Grinning excitedly, you whisper, “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t care.” Comes his immediate answer, shaking his head briefly. “I don’t care at all, not a single bit, baby. I just want ‘em, want a little kid runnin’ around here that’s half you, half me.”

“Just one?” You tease, smiling. And you’re still running your fingers through his hair, heart beating profoundly.

“As many as you’ll let us have, honey.” He tells you wholeheartedly. And then he releases another breath, and quite dramatically. Dropping his head, he kisses your chest, more passionately this time. “Honey, you’re going to look so beautiful with our baby.”

One of his hands then retracts, sliding over your pelvis, thumb brushing against your lower belly. Truly, he can’t wait to see it, your stunning body growing from his baby. He can’t believe you want this; if only he knew how proud you were to have it. What a blessing.

“You think so, daddy?”

Something about the moment shifts from sweet to sensual, Jack’s mouth slowly moving over you. Mhm is all he says in response, mumbling against your chest.

“You know,” He then says, that southern voice growing deep. “I was wondering why you weren’t drinkin’ tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s because I’m carrying your baby.”

“Oh, honey.” Closing his eyes, he forces out a heavy breath. “Say it again.”

“What? That I have your baby in me?” It’s said in a teasing voice; you love how he’s responding to this.

Lifting his head, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, one you return with overt happiness. Jack is absolutely overjoyed to hear this, all of it. And if it’s even possible, it’s made him fall that much harder for you.

“Babycakes,” Just like that, his hands are sliding down to your ass, gripping your firmly while he groans. Sliding his face over your clothed breasts, he coos quietly. “Daddy wants you.”

“Yeah?”

Now that you’re thinking about it, tonight was the perfect time to tell him - on New Year’s Eve, on the one-year anniversary of your engagement. You swear, life with him is like a fairy tale.

“Baby, come here.” Jack’s mouth has moved up to your neck, his hands securing themselves to the bottom of your thighs while he stands up.

Lifting you with him, he revels in the way you cling to his body, holding onto the sturdiness of him. You can feel the muscles in his upper back and arms, your own wrapping around his neck. Your thighs squeeze his waist, feeling the broadness of his palms slide up to your ass.

“You’re mine? Huh?” He asks, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

After striding down the hall, he nudged open your bedroom door, now lowering you to the bed. But his body doesn’t leave you, it covers you, crawling over your smaller form.

Breathing out a deep sigh, he gazes down at you, a predatory look in his eyes. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” Already, you feel drunk on him, on this new feeling. Reaching out, you hold his face. And because of your compliance, he leans into your hold, coming down to kiss you.

“Oh, baby, let me love on you.” Turning his head, he rubs his forehead over your chin, a gentle and loving nudge. “Daddy wants to touch you.”

Right now, all he’s thinking about is the beauty of your body. You were a gorgeous thing before, and he never thought you could be more amazing than you already were. But somehow, you are. Somehow, you’ve managed to mesmerize him even more.

You let him move you, let him do whatever he wants. Gentle hands remove your clothing, leaving you bare while he remains clothed. He’s not focusing on himself, he’s focusing on you.

Jack’s strong hands run down your sides while he sighs, eyes trailing over your naked form. Immediately, he leans down, lips meeting your lower belly. He kisses you softly, humming happily, rubbing your hips while he does it.

“Baby…” He’s already being so sweet, you can’t wait to see how he acts when you really have a belly.

Reaching down, your fingers slide easily through his hair, Jack’s handsome face relaxed in contentment. He feels warm, touching you softly. To get closer to your skin he leans back, lifting his shirt from his body. And then he’s returning to you, face snuggling into the slope of your neck. His one arm keeps him up while his other lays over your body, keeping a hand on your tummy.

“You’re my girl, honey.” The curve of his nose slides along your neck, knocking your head to the side ever so gently. “Say it to me.”

Smiling, you lift your hands, holding the sides of his face. “I’m your girl, baby.”

“That’s right, honey.” He’s smiling that gorgeous smile, the one that made you fall for him. “You’re so pretty, babycakes. So beautiful, you know that?”

“Mhm.” Nodding, you keep your grin, melting beneath his praise.

“Then say it.” He softly demands, whispering into your ear. “Say it to me.”

“I’m pretty,” Jack grunts slightly when you don’t say it all, shaking his head against you. But it makes him happy when you complete the phrase. “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s my girl, my good girl. Say it to me, honey. Let me hear you say it - you’re my good girl.”

“I’m your good girl.” He’s never done this before, never made you repeat his praise. But he wants you to know it, wants you to say it until you truly believe it. Jack wants you to know how wonderful you truly are.

The hand on your stomach lifts to your chest, touching you kindly. He cups you, massages you, turning his head to press those plush lips to your cheek. And he continues, going on for who knows how long, making you repeat his wonderful words and feeling pride bloom in his chest when you say them.

You’re the love of my life.

Your body is amazing

You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen

You’re the person that completes me

“I want you to know it, honey. I always want you to know it.”

The love Jack gives you is on an entirely different level than the love you’ve received from others. It’s like you didn’t even know what love was before him.

“Mm…” He hums, hand dropping from your chest to rub between your legs. “Sugar, you’re wet?”

“Yes, daddy.” You’re nodding, whining slightly, heart skipping in its beat.

“You want me, baby? You want it?” He’s kissing your cheek again, sighing against you. “Because daddy wants you.”

Nothing would make Jack happier in this moment than to claim you, to mark your body as his all over again. Spiritually, emotionally, physically, you're his. And he is yours.

Your words allow him to move easily, shifting his pants off his hips and down his legs until they’re discarded somewhere behind him. Jack’s body keeps you down, the warm skin of his chest pressing into your own. This is when he finally meets your lips, his hungry and passionate. Your husband swallows every sound you make, every moan and high whine as he positions himself to slide inside.

“You’re so pretty like this.” His breaths are already hurried, speaking when he pushes himself into the space between your legs. “When you let me lay you back, when you let me take care of you…”

“I always want you to.” Reaching for his shoulders, you cling to him, walls stretching around his girth.

He’s moving so slow that it’s becoming agonizing, finally deciding to lift your hips to speed up the process. And it works, Jack’s punched-out gasp fanned across your face as he looks down at you, down at where the two of you connect.

“If you think I spoiled you before…” He says, grabbing onto your hip with a grin. “You have no idea what’s comin’.”

“I know you’ll always take care of me daddy,” Something emotional overcomes you, one hand lifting to cup his handsome face. “I need you.”

Instantly, he’s diving down, bringing himself back to you. He lets you hold him, both arms wrapping around his neck. Keeping his one hand on your hip, he begins a gradual pace, ducking himself into the crook of your neck to suck sensually on your skin.

“Daddy, faster, please.”

Already, you’re whining for him, and he fucking loves it, he always has. You succumb so easily to him. Since the first night you saw him, you’ve been addicted.

“Uh-uh,” Shaking his head, he keeps himself against your neck. “We’re gonna go at daddy’s pace. Don’t wanna hurt your body, baby.”

“Baby, I’m fine. I promise, I just, I want it.” You haven’t even had your first ultrasound yet and he’s already treating you like glass.

Dropping his forehead to your chest, he groans. “You think you know what’s best?”

At this, you whimper, his simple words putting you back in your place.

“You’ll do what daddy says, babycakes.” Shaking his head, he sighs, continuing to slide in and out of you at a gradual pace. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Your tiny okay daddy prompts him to lift his head, praise floating from his lips as he leans in to kiss you. Opening his mouth, his tongue slides against your own, tasting you with a sense of urgency. The way he moves his mouth is entirely opposite to the rest of his body. He’s still going slow, the firm drag of him along your walls making you cry out for him.

“Oh my god, baby. You’re so fucking sexy,” Jack is panting, his hips rutting into you repeatedly. And you’re still clinging to him, lifting your pelvis to meet his every thrust.

Sliding your hand down his back, it lands on his ass, pushing him closer to you, urging him to dive deeper inside you.

“You can’t do that.” Feeling your nails scratch down his back, he bares his teeth briefly, feeling a surge of adrenaline kick in. “I’m gonna cum too quick if you keep doing that.” He’s referring to the way you’re moving your hips, and the way you’re touching him.

“It’s okay, daddy. I want it,” Leaning in, you whisper to him, “I already have it.”

“Oh, honey,” And just like that, he’s thinking about the pregnancy, about how beautiful you’ll look with your belly. “Will you let me lick you?”

“Hm?”

His free hand rises to your chest again, gripping your left breast. “When these get big ‘n full…”

Those brown eyes then look down, gazing at your chest with a sense of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“Will you let me taste them?”

Fuck, you never even thought about that. It’s never been brought up before, Jack having any kind of lactation kink. But it makes sense, he does love your soft, plump chest.

“Baby, that’s so sexy…” Watching him dive down, he sucks your nipple inside his mouth, moaning. “Yes, of course I will, daddy.”

Just thinking about it makes him throb, his imagination pushing him to the edge. He can already picture it, your sensitive tits spilling from the nipple, leaking down your chest. It would taste so sweet, the milk dripping from you. He’d massage them in his warm, strong hands, squeezing more out of you.

“Fuck me, sugar, I’m…” Pinching his eyes shut, he groans. “Jesus baby, I’m gonna cum.”

You’re not sure if you’re feeling sensitive from your early pregnancy or just from the moment, but you feel like you could cum, too. It didn’t always happen, experiencing your high solely from his length. But the way he’s fucking you right now is making your body shake.

He bites into your shoulder, groaning, hips jerking harshly into the space between your legs. Jack lets you guide him, your hand on his ass pushing him in even deeper than he already is. With your other hand, you grip his hair, your body rolling up against his. The feeling of him spilling inside you is what does it, and it shocks you both, your orgasm riding through you in waves. And then Jack slides his hand up the bed, holding the back of your head and kissing the bruise he left.

The way he cums is something else; it’s like it has a different purpose now. Holding your body close, he wraps both arms around you, thinking about the life the two of you have built. He’s never been more confident that you’re the one for him.

Jack’s aftercare was always top tier, you’re truly blessed to have such a doting partner. After cleaning you, he brings you a clean set of pajamas, placing a pillow beneath your head. He knows your nighttime routine pretty well, so he brings you your hairbrush and a hair tie, watching you brush and then braid your hair. When you’re done, he puts everything back, returning to your side in no time. Smoothing his palm over your forehead, he kisses it, doing the same to your belly. And it makes you grin. He then jogs downstairs, grabbing your water bottle so he can fill it and also bring up some snacks.

“You wanna watch somethin’, baby?” Setting your bottle on your nightstand, he sighs, grunting slightly as he rounds the bed to get situated on his side. “Brought you some fruit and popcorn.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to do that.” Smiling brightly at him, your eyes dazzle with admiration.

But while you’re looking at him, he frowns, eyes narrowing. Darting slightly to the side, he looks at your phone screen, now grinning.

“What’s that?” He asks, nodding at your phone.

Turning your head, you look back at your Google search, cheeks burning from your grin. Looking back at him, you nibble on your corner lip.

“What do you think about a tiny cowboy hat?”

#daddyyyyy #oh my gosh #let me have your babies #daddy whiskey #agent daddy whiskey #agent whiskey #daddycember #daddycember 22 #daddycember 2022 #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey smut

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qingxin-dream · 10 months

Text

“Crack of Thunder”

summary | after watching people fling themselves at you as you travel through teyvat, wanderer reaches his breaking point. (art credits: @/xiaojiaju on twitter)

warnings | profanity, hella jealous, possessive, toxic, scars, wanderer backstory, reader calls wanderer “ren”

genre | angst, thriller/action

word count | 2.6k

pairing | wanderer/scaramouche x reader

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Warmth. Comfort. It blankets you like a sweet dream, paralyzing you under its marvelous web of desire. The clouds descend on you like a thick fog, enshrouding you in a safe haven of your own making. You happily entangle myself in its grasp, until a cool drop hits your nose. Then another and another.

“Get up,” a deep baritone voice cuts through your delightful subconscious, causing you to groan and rub your eyes. He scoffs, “It’s about to rain.”

You recoil from the brightness of the sky, even as it is dull and darkened by a sheet of storm gray clouds. His eyes linger on you as you sat up slowly. Your eyes barely begin to adjust to your surroundings—a dead campfire, two sleeping bags, and rolling meadows empty and dampened by the looming storm—your companion snaps his fingers.

“Alright, alright, I’m up,” you grumble, hurriedly packing your things into the adventure bag. “Good morning to you too.”

You can hear the gentle jingle of the ornaments on the ribbons of his hat as he shakes his head in disapproval. “You should know by now I’m not going to wake you with eggs and bacon and a forehead kiss or whatever you humans do.”

“I would pay good money to see that.” You chuckle, flashing a smirk his way. It was never too early in the morning to pester your traveling companion, especially when he makes it so tantalizingly easy.

“You would,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as if expected such a sarcastic response from you.

Your companion is a man of many names, a well-traveled individual who has roamed Teyvat for hundreds of years. Though now he typically introduces himself as the Wanderer to others, to you he is simply Ren.

When he first met you through the Vahumana darshan of the Akademiya, you were told he was the Hat Guy. You vividly remember him tilting his head up at you, the intricate baby blue embroidery of a lotus catching your eye on the underside of his hat. He was definitely a foreigner, and you knew he had a reputation for being both elusive and sardonic.

Before he could even introduce himself properly, you had let ‘Ren’ slip from your lips, noting the symbolic patterns on his clothing. The eccentric raised an amused eyebrow at you. He was impressed you were vaguely familiar with his native tongue, and somehow the name stuck.

It was a condition of mutual tolerance. At least, that’s what he told you. However, once you both warmed up to each other over time after working on a few departmental projects, the layers quickly unfurled and the rest is history.

He convinced you to join him on a sabbatical of sorts through a few nations for a comprehensive study, which is exactly how you ended up here. Though he often blames it on his mentor, a little girl you’ve met only once with soft white hair and brilliant green eyes. You gave him an incredulous look when Ren had explained his relation to her, and the Dendro Archon simply smiled knowingly at you as she sent you both off.

Admittedly, the trip has been less academic than anticipated. Every time you remind him of the work at hand, he immediately shuts you down. Ren is your senior after all, so you keep your lips sealed.

“(Y/N),” the firm edge to his words catches your attention amid your scattered thoughts.

“Did you say something?” you mindlessly reply. A moment passes before your eyes flick to his and you realize he’s giving you a deadpan expression.

“If I had known you were going to be this absentminded the whole trip, I would have left you in Sumeru,” Ren sighs. You stop in your tracks, knitting your eyebrows together in shame and looking anywhere but at him.

Your wrist is snatched without hesitation, launching you directly into his chest. “Hey!” you yelp, desperately reaching out to his shoulders to hopefully catch your balance at the last second.

The wind picks up, rustling through the foliage ominously. Impatience flickers within Ren’s violet irises at the sudden flash of lightning and is echoed by the roll of thunder that followed.

“You have a habit of just grabbing me whenever you feel like it, you know that? What the hell did I do?”

Ren clicks his tongue. “You certainly have had no problem letting any other man touch you during this excursion.”

Your cheeks flare a bright warm hue in complete disbelief at the audacity of his claim. Yanking your wrist from his hand, you ball your fists at your sides. “Excuse me?”

Ren opens his mouth, more than ready to lash out at you as if it’s a grudge he’s been harboring for awhile. He catches himself, narrowing his gaze. Your insolence surely knows no bounds.

“Don’t feign ignorance,” he retorts, the ribbons of his hat swirling ominously behind him in the wind of the incoming storm. You could tell he was on the verge of snapping. “Must you always be so preoccupied with trivial insects?”

You scoff at him indignantly. “What have you been doing since we left Sumeru, huh? Not the assignment we were given! You have no right to judge me, and what do you even care?”

The accents of Ren’s dark and sheer bodysuit begin to glow with Anemo energy. The wind picks up, and you have a feeling it’s not from the storm overhead. He was practically glaring daggers at you, taking you by the wrist and walking away furiously.

Stumbling forward and nearly tripping repeatedly, you struggle to keep up with his quickening pace deeper into the wetlands. Your surroundings dulled from the thickening of the clouds above, now swirling dangerously. You wouldn’t have been able to make out anything in front of you if it weren’t for the luminescent rings of Anemo on his wrists.

“W-where are we going?” you cry out, but the breeze threatens to drown out your voice as it rips through the trees. “Shit, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Brace yourself,” he growls and without warning, he scoops you right off of your feet. Ren’s hat dissipated into a gorgeous blue lotus on his back, framing his face like a ethereal angel. But his words were anything but heavenly.

Fwooom!

In an instant, Ren darted through the maze of trees like it was nothing. His electric irises pulsed a soft royal purple, as if he could see the obstacles ahead ten seconds in advance and violently weaved through the forest with you helplessly in his embrace.

You felt your mouth open to scream, but by the time you realized what was happening, you weren’t sure if you had screamed at all. “R-Ren! S-stop! You’re going to kill us!”

His gaze ahead didn’t falter once, focusing ahead like some sort of wild predator. You notice his voice is deeper and more agitated, yet it did retain his signature sarcasm. “What? Don’t you trust me? I wouldn’t think you’d travel across the entirety of Teyvat with someone you don’t trust in the first place.”

“Please!” You desperately climb on him, wrapping your arms around his neck like your life depended on it. Knowing him, it very well might. “Put me down! This is insane!”

Ren grunts in amusement. “I like you better when you beg, (Y/N). Do it again.”

Suddenly, he grips you tightly, coming to an abrupt halt. The wind is no longer deafening your ears; rather, it is the thousands of gallons of water rushing over the cliff face into oblivion below. You peer over his shoulder and shriek at how high you are suspended over certain death.

He can feel how rapid your little human heartbeat is pounding against his hollow chest and smirks mischievously. “It would be a shame if I lost my grip on you. The mist is quite slippery.”

“D-don’t you dare, Ren!” You yell, though it is more out of primal fear than a place of power. He’s right though, the pads of your fingers are losing their grasp on his skin.

“You think you can bark orders at me when you so clearly have no idea what you do to me?” He growls, looking down at you with disdain. “…How dare you.”

Just when you felt like you couldn’t breath any faster like a frightened rabbit, the air was ripped from your lungs as the puppet let you fall through his arms. Tears are swept from your eyes in the wind, lost in the suffocating mist of the waterfall. The last thing you see is the expression of pity etched on his beautiful face.

Swooosh!

Ren handles the gravity of your fall with surprising grace, catching you inches above the lake’s surface. The utter magnitude of the maneuver sent shockwaves across the water, continuing to move at intense speeds hovering just above the water as he traverses it.

Imploring you once more, his voice is sharp and dangerous, threatening you to disobey. “You know what I am. What I am designed for. What I am capable of.”

You feel yourself becoming dizzy as Ren shoots up vertically out of nowhere, swirling erratically and ensnaring you both in a raging water spout. He notices your hold on him weakening, his temper throttled by the sight of your eyes beginning to roll in the back of your head.

“Hey,” he commands your attention, but consciousness is eluding you. The gust softens into a warm breeze through your hair, attempting to rustle you awake. “I’m not done with you. I didn’t say you could pass out.”

A groan rumbles in your throat and you lazily raise your head to face him. Frankly, you wish you could strangle him for toying with you like this, but you’re at his mercy. You need him, there’s no denying it. “P-please… down…”

“Not before you answer me,” Ren’s tone is still firm, but nevertheless has an edge to that betrays the vulnerability he feels right now. “Why do you flock to others? What is the point in even… keeping me around?”

The question clicks vividly in your mind, like the forbidden key to Pandora’s box.

You distinctly remember the day the Wanderer let his guard down, using the innate power of his divine gaze to show you his story just like he did for Haypasia.

You had seen how he fumbled through human existence as a lowly puppet by the name of Kabukimono, learning the meaning of camaraderie but also the fickle, cruel nature of humanity. The puppet’s innocence had been stripped of him and without a heart, the feelings of betrayal and vengeance festered in the void of his chest like wildfire.

You had watched with sorrow as Kunikuzushi had turned his back on the world, smiting the blade smithing arts as revenge for the loss of those he held dear.

You felt every ounce of pain he did after he was taken in by the Fatui as Scaramouche, the Balladeer—experimented and corrupted in the depths of the Abyss.

You witnessed his ascension to godhood and his downfall. It plays through your head like a horrific flashback, how he desperately sought to erase his existence. He had shared every sickening thought and every visceral emotion. Every damned bit of it.

The weight of the realization is soul-crushing for him. He works tirelessly to maintain this stoic façade, fortifying his walls with endless insults and distancing himself constantly so he doesn’t have to face you.

In a twisted sense, he takes pride in knowing you’ve seen the darkest parts of his past. It serves as a clear warning to never betray him. Ren can destroy anyone and anything that has the gall to keep him from you. That’s not a threat, but a promise he gave you from the very beginning.

You were just too foolish to read between the lines.

Yet, Ren, the puppet, the Wanderer, is starved for the sublime satisfaction in preoccupying every ounce of your sacred attention. But he is chained by his egotism, for he should never need to stoop so low as begging for you.

The sound of his displeasure thrusts you back into reality, your heart fluttering like that of a hummingbird’s wing. You still haven’t answered him.

“I won’t hesitate to crush the next idiot who thinks they have any right to you,” Ren grits through his teeth, his words stinging you venomously. His grip tightens on you, the possessiveness practically striking through his fingertips like an electric current.

After taking a deep, measured breath, he decides to descend to the ground, carefully setting you on your feet. Immediately, you stumble forward and grab the bark of a nearby tree. The feeling of the grass beneath your feet is foreign after speeding through the air, giving you a sort of whiplash.

Once your eyes and bearings adjust, you see the cloth of his black belt fall to the floor. It’s starting to sprinkle and thunder bellows. The purple mauve of Ren’s disheveled hair darkens under the rain, sticking to his pale cheeks.

“W-what the hell are you doing?” you stutter out nervously, your lungs trying to recover from the acrobatics he performed with you.

“Shut it,” he demands. “Look.”

He reaches to unzip his bodysuit, making quick work of it, and shrugs off the white robe. The cloth falls over his hips, as does the top half of his bodysuit, revealing his toned chest. Ren approaches you intently, rain droplets beading down his muscles. You simply can’t help it as your eyes drink in his sculpted figure, memorizing every riveting contour.

Your eyes settle on a certain imperfection. It stretches up to his defined collarbone and all the way down to his upper abdomen. On his left, there resides an indistinguishable pattern of shattered lines racing in every which direction outward.

Cracks.

The cracks of a desolate cavity where a human heart would be, where a Gnosis should be, but instead is bathed in oblivion.

“Look at me, (Y/N),” Ren repeats, although this time with desperation. Your heart wrenches. You are compelled to reach out to his shoulder, but you find yourself distressed with how fragile he may truly be. He looks as if he is terrified of losing you.

“I have no heart. I have no soul. I have no human flesh,” he continues, his hair hiding his eyes. He digs his nails into the skin of his wretched imperfection. “The price for my sins… shouldn’t afford me an impossibility like you. Someone who eases my existence.”

“Ren,” you interject, finally putting your foot down amid all this nonsense. You don’t care that he’s a puppet. You don’t care that he committed atrocities. To hell with it. Let the rain pour, let it soak and wash away the filth of it all. “Why would it be impossible for you to deserve kindness?”

Your words hang in the air. His glistening periwinkle eyes peer at you through the damp strands of his bangs as he raised his head, evidently taken aback by your response.

For some reason, a faint smile curls up on the corner of your lips. You slip your fingers over his, clutching them over his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The puppet lets out a dry chuckle, leaning in closer to you. There’s this indescribable, profound relief on his face in the way his eyebrows scrunch together. It’s almost as if he’s in both disbelief and deep reverence of you.

“You have no idea how many centuries I’ve waited for you,” the Wanderer whispers, trailing his thumb down your jaw before finally capturing your lips with his own.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

#YALL I FINALLY DID IT #I WROTE SOMETHING😭😭#IM BACK BITCHES #let’s see how much wanderer ai has ruined my brain🫣#[opulent dreams].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact fatui #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

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after-witch · 2 years

Note

"KUNIKUZUSHI! Don't you dare ignore me, I don't care if your henchmen hear me yelling!"

notes: yandere, forced marriage, some misogny and classism

You would never claim that your husband was known for his delicacy, yet the word delicate is what comes to mind as his entire being immediately pivots and begins stepping towards you in one fluid, horribly graceful motion. His steps are light; almost a mimicry of ordinary steps, doll-like, and if it weren’t for the bells on his hat, no one would hear him coming. You aren’t the only one who has been surprised on occasion by his sudden appearances.

Yet the delicacy of his movements are utterly betrayed by the ugly frown twisted on his beautiful face. You only have the luxury of focusing on it for a few moments before he grips the collar of your dressing gown and yanks you toward him in one harsh, swift movement.

“Have you lost your senses, woman?” The words are hissed low. “I did not give you my name so you could shriek it out like some ragged pauper screaming at her chickens.”

Your lips press together in a grim line. Oh, yes, you were used to his insults about your heritage, all wrapped in his unfortunate desire to present you to the world--but mostly to himself--as some sort of ethereal noblewoman’s wife. All quiet grace and charm.

Yet it wasn’t the life you were born into, nor did such lofty manners come easily to you. They seemed rather pointless at times, especially since you eventually realized that he liked you best when you were at ease in private, eager to engage with him on a more intimate level than any noblewoman would ordinarily do for her dear husband. It was all a show, one you both put on to different degrees.

“Yet you did give me your name to use,” and the small dip of your head as you speak is both a mockery of the manners he’s instilled in you and a gesture ingrained through months of tedious, irritating training. “And I saw fit to use it thus, since I was speaking to you as my husband, and not my lord.”

“Am I not both?” He muses, and his voice is tight, but the fingers gripping the fabric of your gown loosen anyway. “You certainly know better than to raise your voice to your lord and husband. Are you so ill-trained?” He lifts your chin with a finger, chiding, but there’s a bit of warm teasing in his voice that contrasts against the coolness of his skin.

You know enough about Scaramouche to know that the situation is on its way to defusing significantly, if not entirely, and you know exactly how to present yourself to soothe the electric irritation you’ve sparked with your outburst.

You lean your chin forward, guiding him to take your face in his hand, and he does. Your eyelashes flutter and you look at him with as much pleading as you can summon.

“Will you answer the question I asked, then, instead of leaving me without another word?” And if your tone becomes softer, if your voice is tinged with something akin to neediness and loneliness, it’s not entirely for show. “Please, my lord, my husband…”

You wait, for effect, before dealing your finishing blow in a tone far sweeter than the one you used to keep him here earlier. “Kunikuzushi?”

He regards you with eyes that have taken in every inch of your body a thousand times. Sometimes you wonder if he has the power to read minds or to see inside souls. You don’t ask, because the answer might just frighten you.

“All right. We’ll pass through your village once. I expect there to be tributes. And don’t imagine that you’ll be staying for more than an hour or so.”

Your smile is far more gracious than the limitations he’s placed on you, but you don’t mind. Perhaps you can talk him into more later.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He gives your chin a harsh squeeze before letting it drop.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not a fool. I agreed only to spare myself more of your shrewish behavior.”

“Of course, husband,” you say, watching him leave.

He is not a fool, it’s true. But neither are you.

#yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin impact #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes #requests aren't open just doing old ones i hoarded

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kpopscruggles · 18 days

Text

Requests/hard hours always open

——-

I watched as his head tilted back, taking the shot as soon as he poured it into the double shot glass. 3 am, dark as hell outside, the tv playing some random music he once turned on, it leaves a light to the room. That wasn’t what had me shivering, quaking even...it was him. A random graphic tee, some sweats, Nike socks, silver jewelry, and the now revealed messy hair once he took his hat off. Fuck he had my head spinning.

“You wanna barrow my glass babe?” The regular Saturday night, taking shots and just enjoying time together. Watching him wind down, not worrying about anything but me. Taking the shot glass from him I poured from the bottle to the glass before taking it back and quickly grabbing my soda for a chase. Vision fuzzy but nothing affects either of us. I rolled my eyes with a smile as he let out a small laugh at my face.

Waiting to situate myself I let him grab my jaw and pull me in for a kiss. A smile on his face before doing it once again following with a compliment “Your too cute...”. Laying his hand on my thigh I knew exactly where this was going. We had been so busy the week prior that finally spending time together took a toll on us. “Spread your legs a little, please~”.

Feeling my body grow warm I slowly spread my legs, his hand running from one inner thigh, over the hood of my cunt, to the other. Feeling his fingers tug and pull the shorts to the side along with my panties I gasped feeling the pads of his fingers against my clit. “I missed you so much, you know that?”. Nodding at his words I spread my legs a little more while watching the smile grow on his face. I knew he was gonna treat me so well.

Biting my bottom lip, I slipped my hand into his sweat. The feeling of the small happy trail before reaching his twitching cock made me tighten at the thought, that soon his happy trail would be rubbing against my clit. A sigh leaving him as I began pumping him “I love the way you grip my cock...it would be a lot better if I felt your mouth...”. Smiling, I moved his hand away from me for a moment, removing my clothes, I then arched my back. Leaning forward I pulled his cock from him and took it into my mouth trying not to whine once feeling his finger run against my slit from behind.

His cock growing hard the more I sucked his tip, A groan leaving him before I felt his other hand reach for my hair and having a tight grip on it. “Your mouth feels so good~” He moans, this pulled me to the edge. Wanting to take more of him in my mouth just to hear his tipsy dragged moans. His mouth agape as his brows knitted together, holding back his hips from bucking forward. Looking at him I watched him nibble on his bottom lip at the eye contact “Don’t look at me like that baby, fuck~”.

Teasing his limits I kept my eyes on him, pulling off his cock. Pumping him completely, I smiled “Are you gonna cum~? Want me to swallow it?” He was trying so hard not to spill, I knew it. His chest now rising once I took him back in my mouth. Small uneven pants leaving his lips, his grip on my hair growing tighter. So, I took him deeper.

Licking his bottom lip he smirked “You want me to cum~? Say it baby~ please...tell me how back you want me to cum...”. I nodded, letting out a small moan before pulling away just for a moment. “Please~, please cum down my throat”. My mouth wrapped around him again, his fingers only getting deeper in my cunt but his hips bucking making his cock go even deeper down my throat. Feeling his cock tremble, I knew he was right at his release.

Taking him back in my throat one last time I heard him little whimper, his hand removing itself from my hair before his arm covered his eyes as his cock spurts cum. Making sure to swallow every drop, my pussy tightens around his fingers. Moaning around his cock I slowly removed my mouth from him. Looking at me with Rosey cheeks he immediately pulled me into a kiss. “Go ahead and get on your knees, mm~ Thank you baby..”.

#shotaro smut #shotaro hard hours #shotaro hard thoughts #riize smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours

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ficthots · 1 year

Text

Enamored

A/N: Here's a Peter fic. I can't believe I am releasing two full fics in the same night. Who am I? As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ only.

Word Count: 8.1k+

Doing favors for friends seems to be a fairly standard social normality. Of course there are differentiating factors that determine exactly what kind of favor they may deserve based on what they are asking of their friends. There are people who are far more giving than others and will bend with ease at the drop of a hat to help those that ask. The other version is the immediate response of no and eventually they stop being asked all together.

You were a happy medium between the two. Willing to help a not so favorable coworker if you see something they’re holding is about to fall to the floor, but then going above and beyond for your best friends when asked to bring a purse for them to borrow, showering them in every option you had.

That was how you found yourself dressed up as Dasher the reindeer for your company’s Christmas party. One of your closest allies at work had been asked to act as Santa Clause this year and given he is up for quite a promotion, quickly accepted. The week before the event he appeared at your apartment door, frazzled and nervous about having to dress up as the holiday icon in front of all of your coworkers.

Despite every attempt to get him to calm down, nothing was working. Instead, you rallied up a small group of your favorite colleagues and convinced everyone to dress up as his reindeer. To make him feel more comfortable, of course.

You and Trisha stood in front of the bathroom mirror at the event, hurrying to complete the makeup look that was going to accompany the full bodysuit costume you were wearing. The bathroom door burst open and in walked Lucas, dressed exactly as Kris Kringle, forcing you to suppress any laughter at the sight before you.

“I look like a fucking moron,” he whined, pulling the beard down and showcasing the irritated skin that sat beneath the scratchy material. You shook your head at his words, head tilting to fully admire the getup. “You look fantastic. That promotion is yours,” you snickered at Trish’s words, but he flicked your forehead, sticking his tongue out at you.

As you went to retaliate, the restroom door flung open once again, revealing another reindeer, beckoning everyone out to the main ballroom. When the doors opened and you all walked in, you were met with applause as you led Santa out to his chair where he would be spending the remainder of his evening.

After a warm welcome, you knew it was time to get a buzz on in order to get through the party. It was always a sight to see who would end up in the utility closet together at the company Christmas party, leading to another year of awkward elevator rides and uncomfortable meetings where they couldn’t look each other in the eye.

Fixing your falling reindeer antler headband for what felt like the millionth time that night, Trish stood leaning against a cocktail table with you. You two giggled and pointed out couples, placing bets to see who would sneak off first.

Small appetizers made their way around the room and you grabbed as many as you could as they came. The crowd had grown unbelievably dense within the last hour of the party, music playing to which the next step of a lustful evening was taken by said couples, writhing against one another as their colleagues looked on in pure amusement.

“I’m running to the bathroom!” You shouted as you downed your champagne glass, pushing off the table to head in the direction of the restroom. Trying to maneuver through people to get to your destination was proving difficult, being tossed around like a damn rag doll in the process.

You didn’t think twice as you felt fingers land on your shoulder, tapping you roughly. When it happened again, you turned as his voice yelled out over the group surrounding you. “Excuse me! Are these your antlers? They fell,” your mouth went dry at the handsome stranger standing directly in front of you.

When his eyes slowly met yours, his facial expression froze to one of shock as he took you in. Immediately feeling embarrassment course through you at how silly you must look to this gorgeous man, you began blabbering as you took the headband from his grasp.

“Oh, thank you! These stupid things have been falling all night. They’re kid sizes so they’re a bit small meaning they won’t stay in place and have given me quite the headache. We did this as a pick me up for our friend who’s playing Santa tonight and it seems to be a hit, I just hope I’m not stuck doing this every single year now.” When you caught your breath, eyes looking back to him to see his reaction hadn’t changed in the slightest, you felt even more humiliated and decided to take it as your out.

“Anyways, thank you, again. Have a good night. Merry Christmas,” you turned your back, rushing to get away from the most awkward experience of the night, practically running out of the ball room, leaving the beautiful stranger behind.

You stopped in your tracks though, feeling bad for having said Merry Christmas, not knowing if that was even his denomination. “Sorry, Happy Holidays. Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, whatever you celebrate. Not to say you can’t or don’t celebrate Christmas, but yeah, why am I still talking?” You mumbled out the last bit, turning on your heel and continuing out of the room with your face positively burning right off.

He was kicking himself. Actually, trying to beat the ever loving shit out of himself. When he bent down to pick up the antlers he didn’t know what happened, but when she turned and looked at him, at him, it was like the world had stopped.

Almost as if he had been blessed to stop time to just capture her face just for himself and being the only person lucky enough to hear her speak. To him.

And he fucking blew it.

Unable to string two syllables together to give her a coherent response. Hell, even one would have sufficed better than just staring at her like a fish out of water. He had never hated himself more than he did at that moment.

She looked at him like he was the weirdest thing she had ever seen before and he more than likely was. The poor girl turned and ran from him because she was so weirded out. What the hell was wrong with him?

His eyes followed her the rest of the night, to no fault of his own. He planned to go back over to her before the party was going to end, make an attempt to try to fix what he had blundered so badly before, but within a singular blink of his eyes the evening had come to a close.

He had no idea how time had passed so quickly. Watching her from afar as her head tipped back, mouth opening just wide enough for a loud laugh to bubble out and greet the air around her. Lips landing on the edge of her champagne glass as she sipped the contents, eyes sparkling in pure enjoyment at the festivities happening. He found himself smiling with her despite being across the room, having no idea what was causing that to happen, but it didn’t matter because he was getting to witness it.

Peter had never seen anyone so magnificent. He had to know her.

He didn’t even work for this company. No, he had tagged along with one of his friends who didn’t want to attend alone, not expecting this to be a particularly memorable evening apart from free food and drinks. Not expecting the entire course of his life to shift within a four hour span of time.

As she walked out of the ballroom with her small posse, Santa tagging along behind her, a sense of panic washed over him. He didn’t get to ask her name. He didn’t get to speak to her again. She was getting away.

Looking around for his friend, he spotted him saying goodnight to some of his coworkers, catching Peter’s eyes as he waved him over to where he stood rooted to his spot.

They left the party together, heading back towards their apartments for the night, but Peter caught sight of her, beginning to gently nudge his friend as his eyes refused to leave her figure.

She was standing on the curb, hand grabbing onto Santa’s arm as she cackled out into the night, a cloud of white appearing in front of her mouth at the expelling of air. He found himself jealous of the man in the costume, being able to feel the heat of her skin against his own.

“Do you know who that is?” His friend's neck craned to see who he was looking at, not near the height of his counterpart. His brow furrowed as he looked at her for a split second before looking away.

“The reindeer? No clue. You want to go get dinner? I thought they were going to have-“ his words became muffled in his ear, attention span going out as he spoke.

How was he able to look away from her? No matter what Peter tried, it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t look away from her. His friend was able to avert his eyes so easily. How? She was like a magnet, drawing him towards her and no matter what he did, he could not get his attention off of her. She was a force.

Peter reluctantly left in the opposite direction of her that night. When he laid in his bed, unable to think of anything other than her, he wanted nothing more than to see her again. As his eyes closed, her face would be behind his lids, greeting him with a large smile meant only for him.

It would be weeks until he saw her again. That same friend had told Peter that he wanted to meet him for lunch that afternoon, but to go into his office while he waited for a meeting to finish up.

Thinking nothing more, his thoughts of her dwindling daily until he only thought about her once or twice a day. He rode the elevator to his friend's floor, but felt his eyes bug out as the lift came to a stop on a floor fifteen levels below where he needed to go.

She was back. Stepping into the elevator with him, arms overloaded with papers, eyes glued to a phone screen. “Sixty-eight please,” she mumbled out to him. He couldn’t move. He was rooted to his spot, eyes stuck to the side of her face. A new angle he hadn’t seen before that was somehow even better than the others.

Her eyes looked at him when she realized he wasn’t going to hit her floor. Her face immediately grew to one of shock when it dawned on her who was in the lift with her. She moved to push the button for her floor and shifted the stack of papers awkwardly in her arms as she faced forward, trying not to make this any weirder.

“I remember you from the Christmas party,” she spoke out after a beat, unable to take the silence. “I was the reindeer. You handed me my antlers. I swear I’m not that weird in real life, dressing like that I mean or maybe I am and just don’t realize it.”

He couldn’t speak, tongue unable to move as she fidgeted to the side of him. It was like he had fallen under a trance as he looked at her. He didn’t know what to do.

Ding

As the doors slid open to her floor she shot him a small smile and a wave as she stepped out. “Okay, have a good one.” The doors closed behind her and he wanted to scream.

He fucked it up. Again.

His eyes closed, hands landing on his face, and rubbing harshly at the irritation coursing through him. The smell of her perfume lasted long after she had gotten off, the sweet coffee and vanilla hints lingering to remind him about what he had missed.

When he got to his friend's office, he sat down at his desk, trying to create some semblance of a plan to actually speak to her, but whenever he tried, it was like he was under a spell.

He didn’t even know her name. That could change though.

His friend entered the room and greeted him with a tired sigh, a crack of his neck, and a furrowed brow as he took in his friend's disheveled appearance. “What’s going on with you?”

Peter shook him off, asking him what he wanted for lunch, but quickly created a plan in his head. If he wanted to do this he needed to be careful, not wanting to be obvious about his intentions.

The two sat at lunch and as Peter took a bite of his burger, he changed the topic of conversation to match what he wanted to talk about. “Hey, I meant to ask you, who played Santa at your Christmas party?”

His friend bit into a fry, leaning back in his chair as he thought about his response. “I believe his name is Lucas Dawson. Just got a big promotion to assistant manager for his department. Why?” Peter shrugged, rubbing his jaw to make it seem like what he was saying was believable.

“No, I just thought I knew him from somewhere is all.” His friend nodded, taking another bite and steering the conversation back to whatever sports game he had watched earlier that week.

Success.

It was two weeks later when Peter found himself standing outside of the building waiting for Lucas to appear. He checked his watch, thumbs drumming on his thighs with nerves as his eyes scouted the crowds around him.

The bleach blond hair quickly moved from the glass doors and Peter noticed his gaze was downwards at his phone. Perfect.

Peter walked in his direction, bumping into him and sending his notebook tumbling down in front of him. Lucas uttered a quick apology and Peter’s smile grew as he began his act.

“Oh my god. Lucas!” His eyes went wide and then narrow, very obviously trying to place where he knew him from. He didn’t know him. “It’s me, Peter! How are you doing, man?” Lucas offered a smile in return, playing along.

“Peter! I’m good! How are you?” Peter’s grin grew as he continued on. “I’m doing real good, man. Hey! Are you still in touch with, oh gosh, what’s her name?” Peter offered a description of you, snapping his fingers in faux confusion as he tried to gain insight to you.

When Lucas said your name, it was like Peter had won the fucking lottery. “Yes! We work together. Right there actually!” Lucas pointed at the building and Peter’s hands landed on his hips, shaking his head.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Crazy world we live in, huh? Well, I don’t want to keep you, it was so good seeing you. Have a good one, man!” Lucas said the same back and continued on in the opposite direction of Peter.

That name. It replayed over and over in his head. It was your name. Of course it was, he thought to himself. It suited you so well. It was a beautiful name. The first time it fell from his lips, his eyes shut with a smile, pure happiness coursing through him.

He didn’t see you for awhile after that, opting to keep his distance. His alter ego though was a different being. Peter found himself dressed in his garb, watching you leave the building one night, far too late to be walking by yourself.

This was his chance.

Peter landed behind you without a sound, mustering up the courage to speak to you. “Excuse me, miss?” You jumped as you turned, eyes about falling out of your head at the sight before you.

That was fucking Spider-Man.

You offered a meek wave as you looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this. The street was almost deserted at this late hour, those that were on it too entranced in their own worlds to realize who was standing here.

“It’s a bit late for a young lady to be walking home. Can I offer an escort?” Your jaw opened and closed, trying to formulate a response to the figure. You cleared your throat and nodded quickly.

“Yeah-yes, please, that would be great.” He nodded, moving to fall in step next to you. You had no idea what to say to him as you began walking. What the hell were you supposed to say to a superhero?

“So what is a pretty girl like you doing walking alone late at night?” Spider-Man just called you pretty. Spider-Man just called you pretty.

You gave a slightly annoyed laugh to that question before following with an irritated sigh, shaking your head like you were trying to remove bad thoughts from your head. “Just working late.”

He laughed, tsking you as he nudged you with an encouraging shove. “I’m working on this group project thing right now, but I seem to be the only one actually working on it. That means that I’m stuck at work late doing it.” He nodded thoughtfully before jumping in front of you, starting to walk backwards.

Given you couldn’t see his face and its expressions, he mainly talked with his hands, using them as his way of expression instead. “Now, see I work late. That’s kind of my whole thing. But I choose to work late. Kind of. I mean crime never sleeps and it seems to really ramp up at night so that’s when I’m needed most. So, I guess I don’t really get to pick my hours.”

You were trying to stifle laughter at his random tangent he had gotten off on, but your hands went out to grab him, trying to move him so he wouldn’t hit the lamppost he was heading straight for, but he dodged it before you could get to him.

“How did you do that?” You asked shocked, pointing at the post as you walked by it in awe. Spider-Man shrugged and leaned his head towards you, offering a view of the back of his head. “Eyes in the back of my head.” You couldn't see it, but for some reason you felt him wink at you.

You felt absolutely bonkers saying that because of course he hadn’t, but there was a feeling nestled deep in your stomach that he had. Whether you could prove it or not. He was friendlier than you had expected.

He kept a constant conversation going with you, tossing jokes back and forth like old friends, never letting the chatter dull. He had you feeling like your stomach was going to burst at the seams from laughing so hard at his absurd conversation topics.

When your building came into view you stopped and sighed, wiping at your eyes, gathering the tears that had been falling from the story he had shared with you about a small child needing to be swung home for fear of having an accident and ended up going. All over him.

“Thank you for walking me home Spider-Man.” He waved his hand in front of you, over exaggerating his shrug as he did. “Ah, don’t mention it. Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man offering his assistance to those in need.” You giggled at that and nodded, eyes falling to your shoes.

“Well, I’m more than likely going to be working late for the next week or so and would love to take the walk with you. You know, to keep me safe and all.” He nodded, bringing his hand up to stroke his chin in thought.

“I think I can make that happen. Same spot and time tomorrow?” You nodded, a smile growing as you did. You waved goodnight, crossing the street and entering your building.

Peter wanted to jump for joy. He had talked to you. Without sounding like a buffoon. And you talked with him. Laughed with him. Enjoyed spending time with him. So much so you wanted to do it again tomorrow. And for the rest of the week.

He couldn’t help himself, he did a small jump, tapping his heels together as he did. He swung off into the night, excitement pouring from him about getting to see you again tomorrow.

And he did. For the next few weeks he did.

Peter-Spider-Man, would meet you outside your office building and would take the long walk back to your apartment building with you. As each night progressed, you two would intentionally walk slower to spend more time together.

He memorized every aspect of you he could. He was mesmerized by you. By your entire being. It was like a gravitational pull that he couldn't fight no matter what he did. But he didn’t want to. No, quite the opposite. He wanted to fall into it. To be completely absorbed into your wavelength.

Your hands nervously played with the pair of mittens in your hands as you turned to face the masked man, gnawing on your lip as you waited for him to finish talking. He didn’t finish in time so you blurted it out instead.

“I haven’t had to work late this past week.” He stopped his motions, head tilting to show confusion, something he did often when he knew you couldn’t read his facial expressions. “I-I just wanted you to walk me home.”

He could see how nervous you were to tell him that. That it took all the courage you had, that you couldn’t hold onto the information anymore, yelling it out over his words to be heard. It was adorable.

“You could’ve asked me.” His hand went behind his back, although you couldn’t see his smile you could hear it in his words. Your head fell down, embarrassed as his gaze fell over you, unable to hold eye contact anymore.

“No, I know, but-” you shook your head, looking everywhere but at him, “I’m just not good at this stuff.” You face felt like it was going to melt off at the admission you had just spoken out, regretting your outfit choice of the day, wanting nothing more than to take off this stupid oversized coat.

He chuckled at you. This was surely the cutest thing he had ever seen before. It was heartwarming to see how flustered you were getting by trying to talk to him. Your hands continued to wring the gloves and he knew there was more you were wanting to ask him.

As he went to ask you what else there was, you spoke out over him again. “Do you want to come hang out at my place? Just for a bit?” You were moving between leaning on both of your legs, shifting weight constantly. Your knuckles were white from the grip you had on the fabric in your palms. He was worried you were going to tear the skin off your lip from how deep your teeth were sunk into it.

He knew he should’ve said no. This wasn’t going to end well. He knew it wasn’t going to end well, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was you. He wanted to spend as much time with you as physically possible.

This was his chance. Dressed as Spider-Man nonetheless, but it was still an opportunity to get to know you just a little bit better. A little bit more.

He said yes. Your mouth lightly hung ajar at his response, not expecting him to agree to it despite how badly you wanted it. Scolding yourself to not get your hopes up to only be let down, but this was better.

When you touched him, he wanted to pass out from the adrenaline rush that surged through his skin at the minimal contact. Your hand had enclosed around his wrist, dragging him across the street to your building as you practically skipped towards the front door.

He shook his head, stopping dead in his tracks when he realized you wanted him to go through the front entrance with him. Your name fell from his lips in a hushed whisper and when you turned to face him, eyes bright and excited that he was going to spend some time with you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the alley that was adjacent to your building, into the shadows where he lived.

“I can’t go in through the front door.” He watched your expression morph into one of realization and shape into disappointment at what you thought he was saying. He was quick to correct your train of thought. “When you get to your apartment, open the window for me and I’ll come in that way.”

Your dazzling smile returned, setting his chest alight with fireworks. Nodding enthusiastically at his words, you pointed to a window with a fire escape directly below it. “That one’s mine. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Turning quickly and rushing inside, your stomach was flipping with every move you made. Attempting to act nonchalant to the doorman, not wanting to let on that someone, particularly Spider-Man, was going to be sitting at your window. Waiting. For you.

When you shut your apartment door behind you, you quickly shrugged out of your coat, discarding your shoes haphazardly by the entryway before making your way to your bedroom. Your heart slightly fell when you noticed he wasn’t sitting there at the window waiting, but when you slid it upwards, his mask popped down, eyes level with your chin as he hung upside down.

Giggles flew from you as you backed away, watching as he crawled in through the window, moving to your ceiling to scope out the room as he landed on the floor in front of you. “Beautiful place. I particularly like your Peppa Pig figurines on your dresser.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, eyes scanning what he was talking about as laughter escaped him. “It’s an inside joke with my family. My twenty-first birthday was Peppa themed.” His head nodded at your words, following behind you as you made your way to the living room, watching him as he waltzed around your space, taking in all of your personal touches to the room.

A warm mug sat in your hands, another placed on the coffee table waiting for him to sit with you as he continued to silently observe your space. Admiring the photos that decorated the space, trinkets on every square inch of flat surface, organized clutter. It screamed you.

He loved it.

When he plopped down onto the seat next to you, your smirk grew, pointing to the cup. “I made you some hot chocolate. I know you can’t take your mask off in front of me so I will gladly turn my back to the other side of the room so you can enjoy it.”

Not waiting for a response, you shifted on the couch, legs crossed on the cushion, facing the entryway to give him some privacy. A small glint of happiness shot through you as you heard him sipping the warm liquid.

“That is delicious. You could get a job making hot chocolate for a living. I bet you would have a tenured position at the North Pole.” Your head fell back as you laughed, sipping your own drink again after. “Why thank you. It’s a special family recipe.”

He hummed at your response. Peter wanted nothing more than for you to turn around and see him. To talk to him, not Spider-Man. To know that you and Peter got along so well. Spider-Man had nothing to do with it. Acting only as a safety blanket for himself.

You and Peter sat like that for a couple hours that night. Laughing, swapping stories, and when you moved to grab the empty mug to place it in the dishwasher, you noticed his mask was back on. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment wrack you, but you shook it off. You would take what you could get.

Spider-Man was your house guest for two more weeks after that night. He would crawl in your window, you would make you both some sort of beverage, and you would sit and chat for hours until you absolutely had to get into bed and he would have to leave.

Then it all changed.

It was like any other night, sitting in the living room with him, just enjoying his presence, but when you went to grab his cup to take it to the kitchen, you noticed his mask hadn’t been fully placed back down.

Instead, from the nose down you could see the creaminess of his skin, the plump plushness of his lips, the sharp jawline that could cut glass that was freshly shaven, not a lick of stubble. It made your mouth go dry, freezing in your spot, not sure what to do.

This was the most he had ever offered you and it had you shaking. “Spidey?” You spoke out in a breathless whisper, watching as his hand moved to your wrist, urging you to place the cups back down and instead come to him.

You went without fight, sitting down next to him unbelievably close, practically in his lap, the webbing on his suit pressing into the skin where his gloved hands held yours. “Is this okay?” He asked, hand moving to cradle your jaw.

Unable to respond without anything more than a head nod, you watched, eyes focused on what you could see of him, moving to you to capture your lips against his own.

It was like reaching nirvana.

Feeling the soft skin connect with yours in such an intimate way, breathing him into your senses, letting him wash over you in a tidal wave of joy. He didn’t move to take more from you, letting you do as you wanted, not pressuring you to move further along, simply savoring what you were offering.

When he felt the tip of your tongue brush against his lower lip, he greedily accepted, relief pounding him that you wanted this just as much as him. His hands moved from your face to your waist, encircling around you and moving you to straddle him.

Landing a leg on either side of his form you smiled into the kiss, feeling him mimic your move.

You pulled back as his hand moved up your back, trying to feel any part of you he could. “I’ll be right back,” you whispered, moving off of him in a hurry, and towards the hallway.

Switching all of the lights off, you made your way back to him in the pitch black apartment. He was confused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness quickly to see where you were.

“I can’t see a thing,” you giggled out, hands blindly reaching in front of you to find him. His hand grabbed yours as you did, lightly dragging you to him. He stood, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he did.

You lightly pecked his still exposed lips. “You can take the mask off,” he froze in his spot. He was unsure if he should do it. He wanted to. God did he want to.

Walking backwards, slowly moving him with you towards your room, your shaky hands slowly moved up towards his mask. He didn’t fight you, knowing you couldn’t see him.

Removing it from him completely, you giggled, hands moving towards his face to cup his jaw. Your hands traced his facial features, trying to place a face in your mind simply by feel. Wanting to know what he looked like.

Hands skirting through his locks, he couldn’t fight the smile that grew as he felt your movements. Your fingertips moved down the slope of his nose, feeling the smooth skin between his brows, how long his eyelashes were.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered out. He chuckled at your words, hands moving to land under your thighs, subtly telling you to jump. You did as he asked, legs wrapping around his waist as you did.

He murmured a quick thank you, capturing your lips against his once again. Needing, craving, desperate to feel your lips against his again. It was a messy meeting this time, not as gentle as the first kiss you had shared that night.

Mumbling against his lips and removing your hands from his silky locks, you pointed behind you. “Room is over there,” he nodded, not letting your lips leave his as you spoke.

Spider-Man moved you both towards the bedroom, hurrying his movements as he did. He was effortless in his movements, this being not even remotely strenuous for him, but he found himself breathing heavily, almost panting as he did.

He was nerve wracked, excitement pummeling him at what was happening between you both. He was feeling you against him. Against his actual skin. Not against the suit. It was euphoric.

As he laid you on the bed, he wished he could witness what you truly looked like in the moment, not shrouded in darkness. He would take what he could get.

Giggles fell from you as you pulled back from him, hands moving along the suit. “I’m not sure how to take this off,” his laughter mixed with yours, standing up from the bed and peeling the suit off in quick motions as you did yourself.

The laughter fell off between you two as he came back to you, feeling the bare skin on your rib cage, bra still on. His thumb brushed along the underside of the wire, watching as you shivered under his touch. Feeling how your skin erupted in goosebumps.

He knelt down, lips landing where his fingers had been. Lips moving across your ribs, over your torso, landing underneath your breast as he removed your bra.

Your breathing was short and stuttered as you felt him move across you. Fingers lacing in his hair, eyes slipping shut, wanting to savor this in your memory.

His tongue flattened against your peeked nipple, eliciting a shudder from you, a small gasp following as he enclosed his warm mouth around the bud. Your back arched off the bed and into his grasp as his other hand made steady work of your other perked nipple.

Groaning as you lightly tugged on his hair, placing chaste kisses along your sternum, on the supple flesh of your stomach, to the top of your mound. He watched as your stomach caved in, feeling his warm breath fan across your core.

Your panties were soaked through, a small wet spot decorated the outside, his fingers could feel it as his fingertips traced the mark. Sighing at the motion, he smiled, and although you couldn’t see it, he knew you could feel it.

Removing your panties, he tossed them onto the floor by where his suit laid, breathing in your decadent scent. The tip of his nose brushed along your lips, your head falling back as he did.

“Spidey, please,” your voice was low and choked out, trying to administer to him how badly you needed him. He nodded his head, a kiss landing on the inside of your thigh. “I know,” he didn’t hesitate anymore, burying himself in between your legs.

He ate you like he was a starving man and it was his last meal. The moans coming from you spurred him on, letting him ground his hips into the mattress, aching for some, any, release. When he slipped two fingers into you, you collapsed into a mumbling mess as you reached your high.

Eyes squeezed shut as tightly as they would go, mouth hanging open, overstimulated clit still sucked in between his teeth, fingers still pumping you. Your mind went blank, only able to focus on the pure heaven that encompassed you.

You couldn’t wait much longer, flipping you both to have him lay on his back. He was shocked at the movement, not expecting that at all. You handed him a condom from your nightstand, watching him open it with shaky hands, rolling it over his aching cock.

The head was weeping pre-cum, swollen and glistening a bright red. When you grabbed him, lining him up with your entrance, he held his breath.

His head rolled back onto the pillow, eyes slipping shut with a groan as he sank into your heat. You accepted him inch by inch, whimpers fluttering from you as you did. Not waiting to adjust to him, you started your motions right away, desperate to feel him pulse against your walls.

Spidey held onto your hips with an unbreakable force, slamming his hips up to meet yours, chasing his high as you milked him, feeling your own impending release quickly approaching.

He bent you over, meeting your lips together as one of his thumbs moved from your hip, pushing onto your clit and tracing slow and deep circles as he did. You gasped into his mouth, letting his teeth grasp onto your bottom lip as you did.

As another finish washed over you, Spidey fell into his first. He groaned, arms tightening around you as he did. You two fought for breath as you came down, bodies glistening as you did.

Your hand cradled his face as your breathing evened out, letting him gently guide you back to his lips for a quick kiss. He rested his forehead against yours for a fleeting moment before he did what neither of you wanted to happen.

“I have to go.” You nodded at his words, knowing he had to. Of course he did. But you hoped that he would come back. That he would be back for you.

When Spider-Man escaped from your window that night, you didn’t know what the next week would encompass. Would he still be there to walk you home? Would things stay like they were or was that evening you two had spent tangled in one another the turning point to veer off in a different direction?

These questions pummeled you the entire weekend and as you stood outside of your office building waiting for the garb to enter your vision, your hope was quickly diminishing.

Until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

The guy from the Christmas party was standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes excited as he peered down at you. You gave a tight lipped smile at him, “Hi.” You watched him as he was quite obviously trying to figure out what to say to you.

“It’s you!” Your brows drew together in confusion as you looked at him and shook your head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you.” His mouth slightly fell open as it smacked him across the face. She had no idea who he was. “Oh fuck,” he rubbed his jaw as you gave an uneasy smile to him, a small laugh following. His head tilted as he tried to figure out what direction he needed to take this, but he was falling apart quickly. He had to think fast.

“You work here.” He followed with your name, watching as your eyes slightly widened, concern taking over the confusion. “Uh, yeah, how do you know that?” Your eyes narrowed, uncomfortable with this strange man knowing this information about you.

“Lucas told me,” was his response. Your head fell to the side, shifting from one foot to the other. “You asked my coworker about me?” His eyes went even wider as he heard how that sounded, shaking his head frantically.

“Yes, but not in a weird way!” You nodded, slowly moving away from him, offering a small wave as you did. “I’m going to go now.” He nodded his head, eyes downcast to his shoes, hands on his hips.

“Good idea. Bye,” your name tumbled from your lips again as you turned on your heel and walked away from him.

Zero for three as Peter.

Spider-Man didn’t come back for the next few nights, your sadness evident at that. You didn’t realize that taking your relationship to the next step with him was going to mean that you would lose his friendship, too. He had been in your life for months now and losing him made your soul ache.

Until that fateful night when he stood waiting outside your work building for you. Your smile didn’t grow as you saw him, instead walking the opposite direction from where he was standing. Your name echoed out into the night as he lightly jogged to catch up to you.

You didn’t stop, but when he jumped in front of you, seeing the angry look painted on your face he knew he was in trouble. “Look, I know you’re upset, but I was gone for a few nights and I am so sorry about that. I sent a replacement to walk you home!”

Not responding to that, his head fell, scratching the back of his neck as it did. “I really am sorry.” You sighed, lightly nibbling on your lip as you answered. “Why would you do that and then not come back to see me? If it didn’t mean anything to you then that’s fine, but at least tell me. Made me feel like shit, Spidey,” his hands moved to cradle your jaw, cheeks lightly pushing together as he did.

“I know and I am so sorry, but it meant the world to me. You have no idea how much it meant to me. I was scared to come back around afterwards because I was petrified I fucked this up,” you nodded your head at his words, seeing him push his mask up to land directly below his nose, colliding your lips in a needy and enthusiastic kiss.

When you pulled back, you eyed him and mumbled out to him. “Who did you send to walk me home?” You watched his lips quirk up in a smile, basically stilling your heart beat at the sight. “A good friend of mine, Peter. Sorry if he freaked you out.” You nodded at his words.

“Yeah, it seemed like I had a bit of a stalker.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, turning you towards the direction of your apartment as you both laughed. “Oh, Peter? No, he’s harmless. Fantastic guy really,” you looked up at him, hand laced with the one that sat hanging over your shoulder, giggles falling from you.

“Is that so? I don’t know, he seemed a little off to me.” He exhaled a large breath at your wods. “Psh! Peter? No, he’s the best guy. In fact, I wouldn’t be who I am without him.” Your eyebrows raised as you two strolled along the empty street. “Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”

He continued on, his tone light with joking. “He is! One time he saved a baby from a burning building. He held up a bridge from collapsing with his bare hands. I mean I could go on and on,” you stopped your movements, pulling away from him as you did.

“How long have you been Spider-Man, Peter?” His head turned to you, a sigh falling from him as he did. Your hand went to the mask where you knew it connected to the suit, pulling it off and being met with the handsome stranger .

Except he wasn’t a stranger at all. The complete opposite really. He had gotten to know you in the most intimate ways a person can learn about a new individual. He knew about your family, what made up the components of your personality, and what made you twist in pleasure from the simple movements from his skilled hands. He knew you.

And you knew him. More than he realized because after that stranger turned up to walk you home that night earlier in the week, you knew who it was immediately. It was Spider-Man.

“A long time.” Was his response to your question that earned a nod in response. Your arms crossed over your chest, mask dangling from your fingertips as his eyes pierced into yours. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me, Peter?” You couldn’t fight the smile that was pulling at your lips.

You giggled, watching his overactive motions still continue even after the mask had been removed, knowing this was just how he was. His gloved hand ran through the messy locks sitting atop his head as his wide and wild eyes fell to your. “Oh, babe you have no idea how badly I wanted to, but there’s,” his head tilted as he looked over you, listening in utter amusement at his words, “something truly hypnotizing about you.”

Your brows drew together in confusion, obviously never having heard that before. “When I saw you for the first time when I handed those antlers back to you, it was like I had been run over by a truck. I had never seen someone as beautiful and riveting as you. I could not get one coherent thought to form in my head.” Your face was burning with embarrassment at his words, not believing what he was spewing to you.

“And then I saw you in the elevator. It was a second chance, but it happened again!” His laughter mixed with his words as he tried to explain this bizarre situation to you. “You put me in some sort of trance because no matter what I tried to say it just would not come out.” He took a deep breath, wrestling with his thoughts if he should confess this next part to you, ultimately deciding he should.

“I thought about you every single day from that Christmas party. You took up every thought I had. I tricked Lucas into telling me your name because I just had to know you. Then the opportunity presented itself that night when I was doing my rounds as Spider-Man and I took it because I had to. It’s you.” You felt tears welling in your eyes at his words, lightly sniffling as his hands took yours in his own, gently squeezing.

“There just wasn’t a time to tell you who I really am. My job is not the safest in the world and you knowing who I am is not entirely safe for you either. I don’t regret it though because it did allow me to get to know you. I just, I don’t know what it is about you, but I am enthralled by you. I want to get to know every little thing there is to know about you.”

When he finished his speech he was panting, words tumbling faster and faster as he continued. Your eyes fell downcast, fingers tracing the detailed webbing of his suit as you sniffled again, trying to will the tears away.

“No one has ever said anything like that about me before.” You shook your head as you said that, a light laugh following. You cleared your throat, standing up straight and seeing his adoring look fall onto yours.

He was worried. Worried that you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough around him after the trickery he had done to keep him around anymore. He wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did choose to stop speaking with him. But he wanted it so badly. Wanted you so badly.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment, Peter? I would like to get to know Peter better. I feel like I know Spidey pretty well, but Peter is a sort of enigma.” His heart leapt into his throat, tongue unable to formulate any words, simply nodding in response.

Your laughter flittered into the air around you both, grabbing Peter’s hand and escorting him down the street to where your apartment building sat, but he stopped you, pulling you into his embrace as he did.

His arms wrapped around you, crushing you to his chest, lips capturing yours as he knelt down to greet you in a warm meeting. Your hands laid flat on his chest, urgently meeting his desperation for one another. When he pulled back his forehead rested against yours and he smiled.

“How about you come see where Peter Parker lives, yeah?” You eagerly nodded your head, eyes going large in excitement. He turned in your grip, kneeling down in front of you as he did. “It’s quite a far walk from him. Pretty fast swing though.” You squealed, laughter mingling together as you jumped on his back.

You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, arms wrapped around his neck as you began to place his mask back on. “Take me away, Peter.”

He decided right then and there that he would never tire of hearing his name fall from your lips for as long as he lived. You couldn’t wait to see what this handsome stranger had in store for you.

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