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lovebugism · 1 year

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Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

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You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended.

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day.

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.)

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of.

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes.

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade.

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour.

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high.

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part.

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that.

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater.

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start.

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer.

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right?

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his.

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night.

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth.

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust.

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

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slut4msby · 4 months

Text

flower shop girl. miya osamu x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread

+ a/n; i wrote this at 2am last night as the idea came to me as i tried to sleep so keep that in mind </3

“Just go give him some flowers Y/N it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way, just a nice neighbourly worker gesture!” Your coworker, Emi suggested.

“I’m pretty sure Osamu-san would take it the wrong way, Emi…”

“But Osamu-san brings us onigiri all the time! So it’s not weird unless you make it weird, Y/N.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings towards Osamu have grown since you started working at the florist. It started with you going to get some lunch and wanting to try “Onigiri Miya” which was located across the road from your work. All your coworkers could only ever speak positively about Osamu’s onigiri. And after trying it you could not blame him. The onigiri was a masterpiece, it was a perfect triangular delight that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. The outer layer was crafted from expertly seasoned sticky rice. The rice was perfect, not too dry nor too mushy. When the nori seaweed wrapping peeled back a symphony of flavours unfold. It felt as if Osamu had crafted a masterpiece with something as simple as Onigiri.

However, it wasn’t just the onigiri that stirred something within you; it was Osamu Miya himself. Osamu was fine. More than fine to be honest, he himself was like a Greek god. His physique from his volleyball days had slightly decreased since quitting and pursuing the store, but he was still in beautiful shape. The black Onigiri Miya shirt hugged his body just right. His hair was always slightly messy when he came over to the florists from the Onigiri Miya hat. Not only was he hot, he was funny. Everytime you would see him he would crack some jokes that never failed to put a smile on your face. Not only that despite his more dead-pan face, Osamu was great with his customers. He knew them like the back of his hands, he cared, was passionate and he was funny. God, the true triple threat.

“Plus if Osamu finds it cute, maybe your little crush will go further~.” Emi teased.

You gave her a nasty side-eye in return to her snarky comment. “Okay fine, I’ll bring some flowers to Osamu-san after my shift, if that will make you shut it.” Emi’s face lit up at the comment, “BUT. There is a catch. I get to tell Osamu-san it is a gift from the store for all the onigiri he gives us. Deal?”

“Fine, deal.”

“So… Emi… What flowers do I give Osamu-san?” You say awkwardly.

“Well I would recommend tulips - pink tulips in particular if you don’t want it to be romantic. They convey good wishes, yet non-romantic love and affection. Or maybe some daffodils! To celebrate new beginnings and goo-” Emi rambled.

“Y’know what Emi? I think I’ll just make a bouquet myself…” you mumble as you walk off.

You loved Emi but god she could get on your nerves.

You begin taking your time putting together a bouquet for Osamu. Nothing romantic, but also beautiful enough to put the wrong idea in Osamu’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, just a nice gesture. Despite your admiration for Osamu, you barely knew the guy. He could have a girlfriend or even worse a wife. And you were no home-wrecker. You had finally decided on a bouquet with pinks and whites, with pink carnations, white roses and baby's breath flowers. It was simple, effective and didn't give Osamu the wrong idea, perfect.

“Emi-chan I’m clocking out now~” You call out to your coworker.

“Don’t forget your bouquet, Y/N-san! I’m sure Osamu is going to fall head over heels for you and you two will have like the cutest romance story ever! And I Can say I planned it ALL and I better be a bridesmaid and-”

“Yup, okay Emi.” You say giving her a weak smile and a wave as you walk out.

You crossed the road and walked into Onigiri Miya, the bell jingling as the door opened. Osamu raised his head to greet the customer who entered.

“Welcome! Ho- Oh, it’s one of the flower shop girls. What can I do for ya?” He smiled.

“Oh Osamu-san! I have a gift for you from m- us over at the flower shop because your always so nice to us and bring us onigiri and stuff and we just wanted to say thank you and-”

He cuts you off from your awkward mess of a speech, “Thanks flower shop girl.” He said walking over to you, grabbing the flowers from your hand. “And don’t ya worry yer pretty little head about it, sweetheart.” He examined the bouquet in front of him, looking at the array of flowers. “It’s beautiful…?”

“L/N Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful, L/N-san. What flowers did ya use?” Osamu asks out of curiosity.

“Oh well I used white roses which you can obviously see, and some baby’s breath. The pink touch is some pink carnations, my personal favourite flower! They also express gratitude and stuff… so it’s cool I guess…”

“Well I am super grateful for the gift, L/N.” Osamu smiled.

“Oh uhm… You’re welcome! I have to get going now, Osamu-san!” You say waving as you speed walk to the door. Osamu just waves in confusion in response to your awkward actions.

“God Y/N, why are you so awkward?” You silently cuss yourself out as you walk away.

Days have passed since your very awkward flower delivery to Osamu. The interaction still haunts your mind like a bad dream, that’s what you wished it was. As you care for the flowers towards the back of the door, a familiar figure walks in. Osamu Miya. Just your luck, you gave him an awkward smile before continuing your work. Osamub slowly walks over to your coworker, Maki.

“How can I help you Miya-san?” Maki asks.

“Just wondering if you have any bouquets of pink carnations?” Osamu says, looking around the store, attempting to find some.

“Oh we just got some in before, they are a popular choice at the moment. Y/N sells them quite well, they are her favourite after all.” Maki smiles.

“Well Y/N has some good taste then, they are also a personal favourite of mine.”

“Really! I would not expect that from you Miya! You give off like jasmine vibes.” Maki laughs.

“I only recently found out what carnations are, a very pretty girl said they were her favourite and they just remind me of ‘er.”

A red blush swipes over your face at Osamu’s comment. Were you , the pretty girl? Surely not. Carnations are a common favourite flower and Osamu must know lots of pretty girls, I mean just take a look at him.

Osamu continues his chat with Maki, checking out for his bouquet of flowers. “Thanks so much Miya-san!”

However, Osamu doesn’t leave the store, his steps bring him towards you. He holds the bouquet out towards you, “here flower shop girl. Heard ya like ‘em.”

“Oh really?” You sarcastically respond.

“Yeah, a friend told me.” He jokes back, “a friend also told me I should ask you out on a date, pretty girl. So whatdya say?”

“I’d love to, Osamu.” You smile shyly.

“Tomorrow night at 7pm. Are you free?”

“For you? I guess I could make some time…”

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #lea's stories :3 #slut4msby #osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya #miya twins #onigiri miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu angst #miya osamu fic #miya osamu x reader

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yanfeisty · 1 year

Text

— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Liyue) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin & Zhongli. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious theme. ◞

⠀‣ Beidou

About The Creator: Relaxation

"We had to bring them to Inazuma for a few times, apparently they really wanted to travel with The Crux. Take important person like this isn't really what we do but you know my eye for people, Y/n seemed to be more than what we heard, they were a good travel buddy, playing with the crew and telling interesting stories from another world. Sad, the guards with them don't let them drink 'A drunk God in Inazuma? What would they think?'... But who cares what they think, they should let them have a bit of fun!"

About The Creator: Consort

"You can say traveling has brought us closer, haha! I'm really happy to have find someone like them. I'll never forget the celebration we had on the ship, the weather was kind to us this day, and the food was far better than what we're used to eat, and how could I forgot the drinks, I never saw Y/n that... wild, it's quite the experience, but it's good to see them without having to worry about anything."

⠀

⠀‣ Chongyun

About The Creator

"Like me they have an energy that keeps away evil spirits from them, I suppose spirits are too scared to approach in fear of vanishing into fin air. So, I wonder why people still ask me thinking they need an exorcism, last time, we called me because apparently the Creator had an unusual behavior, rambling unknown words beyond any language experts' knowledge, turned out they just had too many drinks with the leader of The Crux..."

⠀

⠀‣ Ganyu

About The Creator: Relating

"The Qixing had to work a few times with them, and I noticed they always seem a bit anxious so I always try to help them when I can, maybe it's also because I relate to them a bit, they are our Creator but they act more like a mortal, they are trapped between two worlds, leading to confusion not only for them but also others, which would always lead to critiques..."

About The Creator: Consort

"I have still a lot to finish about this, people from all regions will come so we need to strengthen the Millelith to keep everything in order, the music group that was supposed to perform left us so I have to look through the applications again, I need to verify the special invitations just in case there's an error in the date or location. Also, I'll have to go soon for the Sumeru's flowers that should arrive this afternoon. An union between who, you ask? O-Oh... me and Y/n of course! Sorry if I wasn't clear. There's no need to worry about me, I just want everything to be perfect, I don't think I will be able to not blame myself if something bad happened, I know Y/n told me they'll be happy no matter what as long as I'm with them, but that just makes me want to work more for a perfect ceremony."

⠀

⠀‣ Hu Tao

About The Creator

"Even the most superior being needs a long rest sometimes, if it's meant to happen again, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would be more than honored to prepare a noble ceremony for their departure. Better be quick, and offer them our buy one get one free special!"

⠀

⠀‣ Keqing

About The Creator

"Due to their return, people expect them to rule over Teyvat, which includes Liyue. People also pray to them for the minor inconvenients... *sigh* We can't rely on Gods for everything, we're perfectly capable to survive as our own, and Y/n don't seem convinced to govern alone, even before their death it was never said that the Creator was the one who ruled Teyvat, they simply enjoyed interacting with their creations."

⠀

⠀‣ Ningguang

About The Creator: Tour

"It is a great pleasure to welcome a such honorable guest into Liyue, especially when they were the one who helped us to save our nation. As the Tianquan I was more than glad to have the chance to make them visit the city, it was cute to see them insisting to pay even with no mora on them."

About The Creator: Consort

"I've heard people telling that I accepted their proposal to make my items more valuable and attract more persons to come and make deals in Liyue. In short, our marriage is just a business partnership and not an act of pure love. You... don't believe that, do you? Y/n is worth more than any amount of mora for me, and not because they're the Creator. I know I don't need to prove myself to anyone but I'm concerned if one day Y/n will listen to those rumors."

⠀

⠀‣ Qiqi

About The Creator

"I don't remember who this is... Sorry."

About Y/n

"Y/n is the one who gave me a finch, I named it just like them because they're both nice with me, so when I forgot one of them I just need to look at the other to remember... Uhh, who were we talking about?"

⠀

⠀‣ Shenhe

About The Creator: Disciple

"My family was from a clan of exorcists so they were followers of them, the clan sent prayers and asked for blessings when performing an exorcism. When my mother died, not only did my father abandon me but them too. Maybe that's why I became one of the Acolytes."

About The Creator: Consort

"My master insisted to meet Y/n, not only because they're the Creator but my partner, she wanted to meet the one who 'tamed my heart'. When they did meet, let's say both of their personalities didn't really match well together which gave... an interesting show, but at the end they agreed to share and listen to stories of my childhood..."

⠀

⠀‣ Xiangling

About The Creator

"They told me about dishes from their other world, just hearing about them makes my stomach growl, I'd love cook those dishes if they ever feel homesick, not only can food be delicious but bring warm feelings, and not just because it's hot! But I also love making them try food from here and they always seem to like and excited when I bring them a nice cooked meal!"

⠀

⠀‣ Xiao

About The Creator: Unusual

"They're a God, the oldest one, and yet their body and mind are just as weird and vulnerable as a human."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... Yes, about that. Could you help me with something? They always seem to care about me a lot, trying to heal me and making me food, even though I need none of this, but I heard it's expected to show gratitude to the person who cares about you. Since they act more like a human, I don't know what should I offer them. Flowers? Hm... Maybe something that gives me more work, picking up flowers isn't enough to thank them for everything they have done for me. Flowers crowns? I mean... I guess I can try to make one. You think that would make them smile if I had one too? Fine... Show me how to do it."

⠀

⠀‣ Xingqiu

About The Creator

"Ah, they're quite the difficult topic to avoid. My presence was required when my family invited them for a warm welcome to Liyue, I cannot say more as it was a private meeting, but I didn't imagine them with such a casual and clumsy personality, if you would have seen the faces of my father and brother, hehe... Just to say another meeting won't come anytime soon."

⠀

⠀‣ Xinyan

About The Creator

"Who'd think that someone like them would like my performance? Even better, they encourage it! I mean, that's understandable, staying with the most uptight persons and doing boring work all day... Can't even imagine the nightmare, they certainly got the rock 'n' roll's spirit!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yanfei

About The Creator

"Ah... Yes, I'm aware that because of their position we allow them more than we should, but it's not like anyone mind or they do anything bad, the worse that happened was them and Xinyan being a bit too loud. I've heard of a fireworks show in all of Inazuma and a wanted gang getting out of prison, but it's outside of my territory to talk furthermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Yaoyao

About The Creator

"They're always so heavily guarded, so you can always be sure they are in good health with no injuries, but I do worry about how they feel with being followed by people who watch your every move all day. So, whenever I see them, I ask how are they and I always have a ration of their favorite food with me. If you encounter them, tell hi from me and to take care!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yelan

About The Creator: Easy target

"If you knew the number of cases related to them, from little scammers to hitmen, there sure is a great variety. Since the Creator has a more powerful influence than strength, criminals think they are the perfect target for great sum of mora, but they sometimes underestimate a bit too much those close to the Creator and I'm not talking about the Millelith."

About The Creator: Consort

"Shh, not so loud. Surprised, aren't we? That means we're doing a good job at keeping it as a secret. I don't want to be known and blow up my cover, plus with the danger it can attract to them, so we can't announce it publicly but it's not that bad, seeing others thinking they have a chance with them is a funny show, unless Y/n feels uncomfortable, to this I'll attend to it personally when nobody is watching."

⠀

⠀‣ Yun Jin

About The Creator

" 'Through a simple whisper, thousands winds started to blow. Hands drew a river, rising waves emerged from the flow. Love was poured into the earth, and life began to grow~' Aren't these beautiful lyrics? There's a few operas about the Creator as we didn't know them much. We invited them but they appeared a bit embarrassed, which I can understand, so I try to sing tales that aren't about them and might fit their taste. I'm used to hear praises but their enthusiasm about my singing never fails to delight me."

⠀

⠀‣ Zhongli

About The Creator: Hopeful future

"I was surprised to hear about their reincarnation, especially about memories from another world. I had the occasions to talk to them, even if they may seem lost sometimes and lack experiences, the love they share for this world is real and the people around them returns this feeling, with a modern and ambitious mind like them, I'm sure the future of Teyvat will be bright."

About The Creator: Consort

"You want to know more about our contract? Well, our feelings for each other were mutual and we had the same promise which was to keep the other safe and happy, naturally we came to do the ultimate promise to stay together until death separates us, but I fear even this won't be able to break our contract, one that I shall forever cherish and respect. They're quite busy but I stay patient for them to come and see me when they finish with tea that I prepared for relaxing them after a stressful day."

@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

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valeriasdream · 24 days

Text

You Are in Control

A long post ahead, so I put a cut to save space for you all. I hope this helps. A bit nervous posting this and I get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance for that.

We try to control our external world by focusing on our results, but by doing so we give up our actual control.

Have you ever heard the philosophy that you can't change others, you can only change yourself? The same applies here. You cannot change the outer world without changing your own inner world and mindset.

The only thing you will ever have 100% control over is yourself and your internal world. No one has control over your belief system, as much as people will tell you that what you believe is not wrong, it's still yours.

On Traumatic Events

That being said, I want to talk about traumatic events in relation to manifestations and reality shifting, since I've seen a lot of people posting or talking about it recently.

I think people misunderstand that when we say our assumptions make up our reality it means we are therefore responsible or the cause of bad things that happen to us, including traumatic events or abuse.

This is simply not true.

I think it's incredibly cruel to tell people that their abuse or their trauma is their fault. It's not.

Imagine you are going through life with a blindfold over your eyes, but you are unaware that you have a blindfold on. You think you can see, you are not aware that you are blind. So you continue your life, falling over, getting hurt, running into things because you just simply do not have the awareness to even realize that you are blind. How can you be responsible for getting hurt, how can it be your fault that you were hurt if you couldn't even see the path in front of you?

Then one day, you experience something that causes you to become aware of the blindfold. It could be another person telling you about it, it could be just through random circumstances that you felt your face and realized, "holy shit, I'm blind!" Whatever the circumstance is, it does not matter.

So you take off the blindfold, and you suddenly notice that you have total control of your path, and now you can avoid all pain or dangerous outcomes.

This is sort of how I view trauma or negative experiences... And I am aware that my blindfold analogy sounds a bit "culty" because of the whole, "open your eyes take off the blindfold" shit but it's the best analogy I've got, so I'm sorry for that. I am NOT trying to sound like some bullshit person who blindly believes in the law without acknowledging traumas. Traumas are real and they happen to people.

Sometimes we are blinded, and unaware. And when we are blind and unaware, we don't have control. And it's not our fault for being unaware, because think of how you were before you knew about the law or about shifting. You were just living your life, you were letting life lead you. You were in survival mode. How can you blame someone for just being in survival?

That does not mean that you are the cause for any bad things that happened to you because at the time, you were unaware of the control and power you had. And that's perfectly valid and okay, whatever may have happened to you it was not your fault.

It is now up to you whether or not you want to stay in that state, and because you are now aware of the control you have over yourself it is so much more freeing. The blindfold has been removed, you are no longer stumbling through life simply trying to survive. You are free to create however you desire.

As a side note, I want to express that it is absolutely possible to heal from traumas. It is hard, it is very very scary, I know because I've been there myself. But it is possible... And the moment you do, the moment you free yourself of whatever happened to you, you will understand that it was never your fault. If anyone is reading this who has been through something painful, difficult, or traumatic... You didn't deserve that. You will lead whatever life you desire, whether it's manifesting a better life here for yourself, or shifting to a whole new reality in your DR. It's not about deserving or not, everyone deserves their own version of their reality regardless of the person you are. There is no good or bad, there is only a state of being.

I just wanted to end on this note because I think people can sometimes blame themselves far too easily, and sometimes we need reassurance and to understand that we're not responsible for what happened to us, but we are responsible for handling our own healing.

No one can heal you but you. Just like no one can change your reality but you.

You are in control. Do not ever let anyone take that away from you.

This post from 2022 in the Neville Goddard subreddit has a take that I find very helpful in also understanding that you are not the cause of your traumas.

If you've read this far, thank you for your time. Whether we agree or not, I hope everyone remains respectful.

🩷 Valeria

#law of assumption #lawofassumption #loa #reality shifting #desired reality #reality shift #shiftblr #shifting #reality shifter #shifting blog #neville goddard #nevillegoddard #loassumption #loablr #loa tumblr

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juiles · 8 months

Text

Sticking out sucks.

Summary: You are taken in by the Avengers at 13 and the first four months are hell until after one fateful mission, Wanda and Natasha really step up the moment you need parent figures the most.

Age: 13

Warnings: blood, gunshot wounds, broken bones, fever, fever haze, hydra, red room, a little mean Nat but she comes back quick, asshole Tony mentioned, surgery drugs

Important questions!!!

Type: angst, hurt/comfort

Here is the masterlist!!

Here is the request form!!

pic credit to the amazing jaylerdoodles

———————————————————————-

I sat in a daze, my world tilting just slightly as i listened to Steve ramble about something after a rough mission. Tony had messed up but somehow got everyone else to believe it had been me. Now here i sat, staring at the table, my hands folded, placed there. I gently picked at the skin around my thumb.

This is how it’s been for 4 months. 4 months of someone messing up on a mission and then me getting blamed as the youngest member. 4 months ago, Steve rescued me from a Hydra cage at 13. I’ve spent half my life being raised by Dreykov to be a perfect widow but at 8, Hydra got a hold of me. Turned me into the perfect weapon. Years of abuse and torture makes you older than you are. Something that Natasha and Wanda don’t like. They’ve never liked me.

I squirmed in my seat, wanting to escape the yelling. As soon as he let us all go, i stood from my chair and made my way up to my room concealing a limp. As soon as my door closed behind me, I grabbed the first aid kit i kept under my bed and changed out of my dirty, bloody suit and into a tank and bike shorts. The gauze on my thigh was already bright red, despite only being on for a couple of hours.

Slowly I peeled it back and winced at the gaping bullet hole. I fished around gently pulling the bullet out, knowing it was a very shallow wound, i gave it a few stitches and wrapped it up tight with a sterile gauze and some ointment. Looking down, I sighed and gently got up. I cleaned the blood off my leg and took a look out my door, creaking it open slightly. It seemed empty and the bucket and mop i would need to clean the blood up is only a few feet away. I glanced down at my bandaged leg then back at the bucket that i could see. Using my powers would only alert Wanda so I slipped out of my room.

I limped over to the bucket and grabbed it, accidentally knocking over the mop in the process. I flinched and whipped around to run back to my room but with the bullet wound, a concussion and a few broken ribs, I got dizzy and instead of running to my room, i fell face first on to the floor, i managed to catch myself before i could hurt myself but at the same time i heard a bedroom door open and could basically feel Natasha rolling her eyes at me as Wanda gasped.

“Don’t baby her Wands.” She cooly said to the girl standing beside her. “She tripped after waking us up. She’ll be fine.” I winced as I crawled up the wall. I looked over my shoulder to see them standing in their bedroom, Natasha leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, Wanda holding one of her arms, her face twisted slightly in concern.

“Why is there blood on your leg y/n?” I heard a small whisper before i glanced down at my leg and winced seeing blood streaming from the gunshot wound, the stitches must have opened when i fell.

“It-it’s nothing…” I muttered and tried to mask my limp to make my way back to my room but was stopped by a red wisp. I glanced back over my shoulder to see Wanda stalking towards me, I flinched out of habit when she got to me. She turned me around by grabbing both my shoulders and a gasp echoed around the hallway when she saw the red gauze, the blood trickling down my leg.

“Y/n! It’s clearly not nothing!” I took a glance up at her and almost immediately melted when I saw the look of pure fear and care in her eyes but pulled myself together. “It is! I’ll just stitch it up and then clean up my mess.”

“Baby you’re not stitching anything up. You and I are heading down to see Bruce to get you checked over.” I froze and turned properly to face her. “Since when do you care?!” I snapped making her flinch slightly before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking back at me. “I’ve always cared love. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to show you it but I can’t let you do this on your own.” I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes.

“I didn’t do it… Tony wasn’t paying attention and I had to jump in front of him. He knocked the switch over, I’m sorry… i’m sorry…” I could feel my chest tighten and i tried to push Wanda’s arms off me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Wanda simply pulled me closer in her arms and slid down the wall, pulling my head to lay flat against her chest so I could hear her heartbeat. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Natasha crouching down in front of me or feel her hands rubbing my back until my chest started to loosen and the knot in my throat slowly released, i gasped in breaths which merely just cause me to sob harder due to the broken ribs. “Baby breath. Take a deep breath. Come on baby. Follow my breathing okay?”

I could feel myself calm down slightly as I listened to Wanda’s heart beat, feeling her fingers massaging my scalp while Natasha drew shapes on my back lightly. My eyes slowly drooped as my fingers tangled into her sleep shirt. “No baby. You can’t sleep yet. Stay with us okay?” I groaned sleepily and fluttered my eyes open to look up at her with a slight pout on my face. “I’m sleepy…” I muttered sniffling slightly.

“I know sweet girl but Wanda is right. I’m going to pick you up and we’re gonna bring you down to Bruce okay?” Natasha murmured shifting me into her arms, making me look up at her. I smiled sleepily before breaking into a coughing fit. “I feel gross…” I felt a cool hand on my forehead before Wanda cooed. “Oh darling you’ve got a fever… you’re sick too…”

“You look like me Natty…” I mumbled staring at her green eyes. “I wish you could be my mama… but you don’t like me… i’m sorry for whatever i did…”

“Darling… you did nothing wrong and I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like you did… but i’m here now okay?” She said placing me on the bed, Bruce walking up next to us. I smiled slightly up at her giggling slightly. “Okay mama…” I muttered, to out of it to even realize what i had said.

Wanda’s POV

Both Natasha and i struggled to understand why a 13 year old needed to be on the team. She’s way too young. We haven’t treated her the best, hoping she would quit. Keep her safe. That was until today.

When i heard the bang on the floor in the hallway, i got up and opened the door leaning into Natasha. I watched y/n scramble to get up and i saw the blood trickling down from a bandage wrapped around her leg. I gasped, instantly frowning when Natasha scoffed.

Honestly the next few minutes were a haze, the next thing I knew Nat had a fever hazed y/n in her arms and I was checking her forehead. “Oh darling you’ve got a fever… you’re sick too…”

“You look like me Natty…” Y/n mumbled slightly staring up at the woman. “I wish you could be my mama… but you don’t like me…” My heart shattered at that, we had been so awful to this little girl that she thought we didn’t like her. Her little pout breaking my heart more. “I’m sorry for whatever i did…”

“Darling… you did nothing wrong and I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like you did… but i’m here now okay?” Natasha said through her tears as she brushed the hair out of y/n’s face. “Okay mama…” She mumbled before she fell asleep. Bruce quickly shuffled us out of the room. Natasha plopped down in a chair in the waiting room with wide eyes filled with tears. “Natty?”

“She called me mama… she- god i messed up Wandz… she’s so young… she doesn’t deserve any of this…” Natasha broke down, i quickly pulled her into my arms as she buried her face into the crook of my neck.

“We’ll talk to her when she’s more awake… for now shen she gets out of surgery she’s going to need us to support her… she’s got a gunshot wound to her leg, some broken ribs, a concussion and a nasty flu.” Natasha stiffened. “She got shot… how did none of us notice?” I muttered as Natasha sat up slightly and cupped my cheeks. “We were stupid but we’ll do better Wandz.”

We both looked up when the door opened. “She’s fine. She’s awake and still a little loopy.” Bruce said with a small smile. “She called me Brucey.” He chuckled slightly. “She’s sleepy but asking for her ‘guardian angels’ by the way.”

We all let out a soft chuckle and Nat and I made our way into the room to see y/n trying to rip the IV out of her arm. “No baby…” I mumbled taking her hands into mine. “You need to keep them in for now okay?” I looked at her face and her big green eyes looked up at me, brimmed with tears.

“I don’t like it…” She mumbled. I cooed kissing her knuckles gently. “I know but it’ll help you get better okay?” A small whimper came out of her mouth before she turned to Natasha.

“Mama… hi…” She giggled sleepily up at Natasha who smiled softly and she brushed her fingers over the girls cheek bone. “Hi detka… you aren’t going to remember any of this tomorrow huh? Well i’ll soak it in while i can hmm?” She asked softly sitting next to the girl.

“Mama don’t leave…” Natasha chuckled.

“I’m not detka…” Y/n scooted over slightly looking up at Nat with the biggest puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. “Mama cuddle…?” Natasha hesitated, making the girls eyes water. “Mama…?”

Natasha instantly laid down next to the girl and pulled her small frame into her arms petting down the auburn hair. “Mamas here detka…” I sat down beside the two of them and started playing with her hair. She glanced up at me and smiled sleepily. “Hi momma…” She mumbled burying into my hand.

“Hi malyshka. It’s time to go back to sleep for a little okay?” She nodded a little and buried into Natasha, arms wrapping around mine. I chuckled and looked at Nat who stared at the girl in her arms, her eyes filled with love.

“Goodnight Detka. I love you.”

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wileys-russo · 6 months

Text

best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

y'all have been sending in the requests for AI alessia being her gay older sister who plays for arsenal and i hope it satisfies because it was tricky to write lmao, so picture that ^ is isabella

best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

"-and you promise that you're not mad?" your best friend bit down on her bottom lip nervously as you smiled as reassuringly as you could. "less of course i'm not mad! why would i be?" you laughed and shook your head at the blonde you'd all but grown up side by side with.

"because we always said the plan would be for you to go to university and me to play professionally in whatever club was closest so we could do it together, and i've ruined that!" your best friend sighed guiltily, collapsing back into her pillows.

"alessia. you are one of the best up and coming footballers there is, you've got a huge career ahead of you and this is the perfect next step to launch you into it. i'd be selfish cow and a terrible best friend to try and keep you from it." you promised sincerely, grabbing her hand and squeezing with a nod.

"will i miss you? of course. but i want you to go, i promise." you affirmed firmly. "and i promise that i'll make sure we don't drift apart. best friends for life means for life, and you better come and visit!" alessia held out her pinky as you grinned and interlocked it with your own.

"okay well that makes me feel a bit better because i was stressed about telling you!" the girl sighed and sat back up. "i've also been stuck with you for like ten years now, i'd really like a break." you shoved her playfully, ducking as she swung back at you with a grin and slid off her bed.

"please we both know you'll be a blubbering mess at the airport, your only friend off on a whirlwhind adventure and you...stuck here." alessia pouted sarcastically as you gasped. "i have loads of other friends thank you! you just refuse to accept that because you're notoriously posessive and needy." you teased back with a grin.

"and i'm off to university anyway you dickhead! where i'm sure i'll find myself a new blondie to spend my every waking day with." you jeered as she fumbled around in her cupboard for something. "you better not or i'll be forced to come back and kick her head in." alessia warned making you laugh.

"unless its a girlfriend of course, you desperately need one of those so you can stop kissing your hand." your best friend shrugged dropping a large box on her bed. "less! that was one time years ago and i told you that in strict confidence!" you kicked at her as she grinned, your cheeks blushing red.

"what? i wouldn't blame you for dating someone who looked like me, i know it's your biggest shame that you're secretly in love with me." the blonde pouted patting your leg making you roll your eyes.

"please. you know it's actually homophobic to assume that because i like girls that i like you, and here i was thinking you'd be an ally." you tutted as her eyes widened and she scrambled to ramble out an apology.

"an ally? please." you both looked up at the new voice, alessia's older sister isabella leaning in the doorway with a smirk. "have you heard of knocking?" alessia sighed as bella shrugged. "have you heard of not caring?" the older girl retorted walking into the room further as you covered up a laugh with a cough and alessia shot you a glare.

"see? she thinks i'm funny. why are you so in denial?" bella pouted, the two always arguing about something which amused you to no end given it was often over something so incredibly small it seemed they just enjoyed bickering.

there was only two years between them and they had more in common than either would care to admit, in fact both would argue they were one anothers opposite that really wasn't true.

you knew isabella had been training with arsenal in their junior academy and was hoping for a professional contract now she'd made her senior debut for the lionesses, both goals alessia was quickly following in her footsteps to also achieve, the entire russo household all football mad.

"what's all this then? college bribing you not to come anymore?" she began to rifle through the large box on the bed which you realised was full of various UNC swag. "get your filthy hands off it thank you! god knows where they've been." alessia scoffed, pushing her away and snapping the box closed.

"they're squeaky clean. want to check?" the older russo smirked, grabbing alessia by the face with her hand and pulling her into a headlock as you watched on in amusement. "get out! god i'm gonna miss you the least." alessia eventually pulled away, shoving the taller girl across the room with a glare.

"still admit you'll miss me though, and mum wants you." the girl winked backing away. "for what?" alessia questioned with a frown. "mm she did tell me, but i didn't care enough to remember." with a shrug bella left the room leaving alessia fuming and you quietly chuckling.

"why do you always egg her on by laughing! she's not funny she's infuriating!" alessia huffed glaring at you now as you held your hands up in defense, your best friend dragging you with her downstairs to see what her mum wanted.

"dinners ready. can you go get your sister and her friend please lessi?" carol asked, shooting the blonde a firm glare when she groaned at the request. "why do i have to come?" you laughed as she grabbed the back of your top, tugging you up with her.

"just think of it as me wanting to spend as much time with you before i leave." alessia grinned as the two of you ascended the stairs, her brothers already having moved out it just left alessia and isabella living at home.

"oh thats it is it?" you rolled your eyes knowing she was full of it as you reached her sisters door, alessia giving her sister the same courtesy she gave her as she flung her door open without knocking.

though she wished she hadn't.

"get out!" the older russo sat up quickly half naked spare some shorts and a bra, having been previously hovered over the girl pinned beneath her, the two clearly making out.

"jesus my poor eyes! dinners ready, looks like you were just about to eat though bella." alessia smirked before leaving the room, purposefully leaving her sisters door open.

"what are your ears painted on? fuck off!" bella scowled, throwing a pillow at you as you stood frozen, quickly spinning around and almost running out of the room, the door slamming closed after you.

safe to say she didn't come down for dinner after that.

"it's not even scary less, its a thriller!" you argued as you and alessia made your way back upstairs, each of you stating your case over what you wanted to watch tonight.

"my names not lily? jesus you're worse than what everyone says!" you both glanced down the hallway before entering alessia's room, the girl from earlier standing there with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face.

"sorry?" bella shrugged leaning in her doorway, clearly not sorry as the mystery girl whose name was not lily scoffed, shoving the taller girl and hurrying off downstairs to leave. "you truly are disgusting." alessia grimaced as her sister only grinned.

"careful now ally, did you used to say the same about all the girls gio snuck round?" the older girl winked, leaving her sister scoffing and about to defend herself before the door thudded closed.

"god she is insufferable."

"can you go make more popcorn?" alessia asked, head buried in her phone as you nodded, more than comfortable to help yourself to anything in the russo household. "can i go and make more popcorn..." you trailed off expectantly as the blonde tossed her phone beside her.

"now?" she guessed with a grin, causing you to flip her off as she tossed an m&m at your head and began to rummage around for the remote to select a new movie.

with it being half past ten at night you expected the kitchen to be vacant, though you noticed the lights were all on and as you rounded the corner you saw the older russo sister sat at the benchtop eating a plate of leftovers from dinner.

her attention on her phone she didn't notice you at first, only looking up as she heard you start to rummage around in the pantry. "surely we've started to charge you rent by now?" the older girl teased as you emerged with a bag of popcorn, rolling your eyes and tossing it in the microwave.

"i'll make sure to sign a jersey for you once i get my pro contract so you can sell it and buy my family some food since you consume so much of it." the taller girl shoved your head to the side playfully as you moved out of her way so she could rinse her plate.

"so. did you enjoy the little show earlier pervert?" she smirked, glancing at you as she dried up her plate. "what? you're so weird." you frowned, pulling yourself to sit up on the counter.

"please. you know if you asked me nicely i'd kiss you so you can stop wondering what it feels like." she grinned, moving closer to you as your frown turned into a scowl. "or so you can stop using your hand. less talks quite loudly you know." she teased, standing in between your legs as you tensed up a little.

if you were honest with yourself you'd always found her to be quite attractive but you'd never ever go there, both for your own and alessia's sake.

"i've kissed girls!" you defended truthfully, and you had, you'd just not ever progressed any further than that. "mm but have you been kissed by a girl?" the older russo quirked an eyebrow, leaning in closer as her hands fell either side of your body, somewhat caging you in.

"thats the same thing." you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how hard your heart was hammering in your chest. "that means no then." bella chuckled, tilting her head slightly.

"i mean have you ever been properly kissed by a girl? when she's got her tongue roaming your mouth, her teeth nipping down on your bottom lip before she sucks on it to soothe the sting-" she leaned in closer as your eyes widened.

"-where one of her hands are on the back of your neck so you can't pull away until she lets you, and the other hand...well it touches other parts of you." the older girl grinned wickedly, her mouth ghosting yours before she put her plate back in the cupboard behind your head and pulled away entirely.

"baby gays are always the cutest." bella winked, ruffling your hair and walking off as if she hadn't just sent your head into a spin, the beep of the microwave making you jump a little as you slid off the counter, shaking your head to try and rid it of the thoughts you'd just had.

she was your best friends sister, she'd always be off limits.

"just when i thought we'd gotten rid of you." you rolled your eyes as isabella opened the door for you with a sigh. "no one else is here and your best friends in another country, so then you must be here for me?" she grinned as you pushed past her, heading for the stairs.

alessia had been gone for months now and you missed her like crazy, so much so you'd booked a flight to go and visit her during what was to be her spring break and your time off from your own university course.

though of course that meant the girl had texted you a rather elaborate list of things she'd left behind that she requested you bring with you to see her, which despite the ongoing teasing that she'd lose her head was it not attached to her body you agreed to go and collect.

"she'd kill you for being in here." you sighed as the older russo collapsed onto her younger sisters bed, making herself comfortable as you began to gather what alessia had requested.

"only if you snitch me in." the girl grinned, watching you as you fluttered around the room. "surely you have something better to do? being a big pro now and all!" you sighed, looking at her with your hands on your hips.

"so you did hear! not even a congratulations? thats just poor manners." bella tutted with a shake of her head, sitting up and moving to the edge of the mattress. "i'm not an arsenal fan." you teased with a smile, hearing her scoff in mock offence.

"you don't have to be, you can just be my fan." bella challenged as you again rolled your eyes. "you know if i had a pound for every time you rolled your eyes at me over the years i could have bought a house by now." the older russo sister grinned.

"must mean you say a lot of stupid things to have girls always rolling their eyes at you." you quipped, rummaging through and grabbing out two hoodies, tossing them onto your growing pile.

"i personally prefer to make their eyes roll back into their heads." the taller girl commented quite casually, your eyes widening for a moment at the abrupt statement but choosing to ignore it. "so what are you doing after this?" she stood and made her way out, leaning in the doorway.

"going home?" you quirked an eyebrow unsure where she was going with this. "do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asked surprising you.

"are you asking me to hang out?"

"maybe. you miss less, i miss less, though if you tell her that i'll deny it till the day i die, we may as well keep one another company."

"plus i'm older so less's entire personality comes from me anyway. so it'll be like she never left, just swap one russo for another!" she added on with a smile as you shook your head.

"yeah sure, why not."

"burn yourself with the straightener did you?" you flinched suddenly as the girls thumb gently pressed into a fading love bite on the side of your neck, the only lingering evidence from an incredibly drunken hook up at a university party you'd gone to over the weekend.

and much to your best friends horror and delight, where you'd finally lost your virginity, before her.

"none of your business!" you pushed her hand away as she smiled and turned her attention back to the movie. well, for a few minutes. "finally dropped the baby gay card then, feel good?" she teased as you rolled your eyes.

"stop calling me that."

"oh sorry, prefer if i just call you baby then?"

"stop, bella seriously."

"what?"

"can you not keep it in your pants around anyone? or do you just shamelessly flirt with anything that moves?" you shot her a dirty side eye only making her smile widen. "well the something has to be female, obviously." you tried to hide your smile with your hand but she grabbed your wrist.

"saw that!" she teased as you tried to pull away, the two of you messing around for a moment before she leaned in and your heart began to race, recognize her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we can't." you whispered, hating how unsure your voice sounded. "tell me to stop and i will." she whispered back, leaning in even closer as you opened your mouth and she paused, but you couldn't speak.

taking that as permission she closed the small gap in between you both, pressing her lips firmly to yours. you'd have loved to say you pushed her off, told her again that you couldn't, thought about your best friend and what she might think.

but the only thing that consumed your mind was her and how good her mouth felt molded with your own. as you began to kiss back you felt her hands move, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle her lap, movie long forgotten in the background.

"alessia." you pulled away remembering your best friend as the older girl nipped at your bottom lip and your stomach twisted. "doesn't have to know." bella promised and you hesitated for a moment, but as her lips curled into a cocky smile and her hand flew to the back of your head, you knew you were a goner.

safe to say that was not the last time it happened, far from it.

you ignored the guilt which bubbled up in your stomach as you pretended it never happened, flying over to see your best friend and spending two blissful weeks with her, then flying over again a couple of months later to watch her in the she believes tournament where she would finally get her senior national team debut.

though of course that also meant isabella would be playing, and their whole family would be there with you.

"i'm so so proud of you!" you yelled happily as your best friend jogged over, shit eating grin on her face as she wrapped you up in a hug, isabella hanging back as she chatted with some of her team mates, though her eyes lingered on you.

and it was those lingering eyes which eventually did you both in.

you were all out for dinner after the game, you seated beside your best friend and luca, gio opposite him as the other russo sister sat across from you and mario across from alessia, carol at the head of the table.

you'd hardly spoken to her the entire time you'd been around, focusing all of your time and attention on the rare moments spent with your best friend who you knew you'd have to say goodbye to again in a few days time.

however that didn't stop the defender from trying to gain your attention, sending you subtle looks across the table as she kicked you playfully, winking at you when alessia wasn't looking.

well, when she thought she wasn't looking.

dinner finished you excused yourself to the bathroom, declining your best friends offer to come with you with a laugh as you promised to meet them outside the restaurant.

you did your business and washed your hands, hearing the door open but not bothering to look up, jumping in shock as arms wrapped around your torso and a familiar pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

"bella we can't." you chuckled, though still leaning your head back a little to give her more access, eyes fluttering closed as she peppered the warm skin with butterfly kisses. "can't we?" she smirked at you through the mirror with that same cocky smile that made your knees weak every time.

"i've missed you in camp." she confessed softly, spinning your body round and pushing it into the bathroom counter, wasting no time rewarding you with a searing kiss which sent your head spinning.

"they'll wonder where we are." you exhaled shakily, using all your willpower and pushing her off you. "you won't escape me later." she warned playfully, nodding for you to leave first as she hung back.

it was several hours later, you and alessia hanging in your shared hotel room together catching up just like normal, your combined laughters echoing around the room as the girls phone suddenly buzzed.

"hey i have to go talk to the training staff about something. but find a movie, i'll be back!" she promised, rolling off the bed as you nodded, not bothering to question why she was suddenly needing to speak to the training staff at almost ten at night.

alessia wasted no time marching down the hallway to where her sisters room was, knocking impatiently as she answered. "oh come on in!" the older russo chuckled as alessia shoved past her, checking the two of them were alone.

"how long?" alessia asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the taller girl who frowned, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "pardon?"

"how long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?" alessia spat, scarily calm as a storm brewed behind her bright blue eyes. "look less-"

"no, don't lie. i saw your little fuck me eyes across the table, and it wasn't her leg you kept kicking at the table. so tell me the truth." alessia warned as her sister sighed, rubbing her face with her hands unsure how to find a way out of this.

"we haven't slept together, i promise."

"but?"

"but we've done, other things."

"you are seriously unbelievable. you couldn't just be happy plowing your way through every insecure footballer in london, you had to go for my best friend?" alessia yelled angrily, fists balled by her sides.

"woah okay less i think you're overre-"

"you're going to stay away from her bella. she's not just another name for your books, she's my best friend and a better sister to me than you've ever been!" alessia fumed, hurt flashing across the older girls face momentarily before it hardened.

"it takes two to tango. you gonna go yell at her too then?"

"she can't have known any better, which is why you're going to stay away from her. i won't let you take advantage of the fact she see's the good in people, as little of it exists in you."

"fine. get out!" the taller girl stood, shoving her sister back who scoffed, turning on her heel. "happily!" the door slamming after her, you none the wiser of anything that had just happened as alessia returned, plastering a fake smile on her face and not uttering a single word about it.

which is why it hurt all the more as you slipped out of your room to call your mum that next morning as to not wake your best friend.

making the mistake of glancing down the hall, you watched as a random girl slipped out of one of the rooms, a familiar face kissing her goodbye with a grin.

you froze and thats when her eyes met yours, not a single look of regret on her face as you stared one another down for a moment before she watched you hurry back into alessia's room.

she was your best friends sister, and that's all she'd ever be to you.

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso #alessia russo #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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flamingo-writes · 7 months

Text

Pillow Talk — Hobie x Fem!Reader

Summary: set in the 70’s. After having a bad day, your best friend Hobie attempts and succeeds at turning your day around.

A/N: not proof read. This started as a vent fic bcs I was feeling ignored by the world. This turned out longer than expected. Fem!Reader, the only mention about the reader’s appearance, except at some point I mention the reader’s shirts fit Hobie, however, Hobie is a very tall dude, but he’s also very thin. I wrote this keeping an average sized reader in mind (my bf is as tall as Hobie, not as skinny, and my medium sized shirts fit him very short, so the reader could be even be larger than average sized)

Genre: fluff, plotless fluff!! Friends to lovers expect the lovers part didn’t make it to the fic. I might write a sequel, but I also might not. I need ideas and inspiration.

Warnings: not proof read, idk if I wrote curse words or not…other than that I’d say anxiety and

Word count: 2.9K

The tapping of that rain on the glass was a good company to your music. Slow lullabies, that fitted your current mood, matching the weather outside. As you lied on your bed, your face towards the wall besides your bed as you wished for the day to be over.

It was one of those days, in which the world seemed too loud, too overwhelming. It was almost as if you were invisible that day. No one listened to anything you had to say, everyone seemed to actively ignore you, even one of your friends snapped at you over what you considered to be nothing and kept blaming yourself for that even when it wasn’t something that serious to begin with. Today was a very busy day at the coffee bar, you were truly exhausted and wanted nothing but to go to sleep and wait for the day to end. Although falling asleep had resulted to be an impossible task.

So you listened to music instead. The rain helping set the mood. You wanted to stop existing for a while and even stop thinking. Ignoring the phone ringing a couple of times. Even ignoring the loud growl of your stomach as you had absolutely no energy to do anything.

You heard the window sliding open, immediately knowing who it was. You lived on the 8th floor of a rather stinky flat building. And only one person insisted on using windows rather than the normal main door.

“Shite, tryna give me a heart attack?” He said at once. “Thanks for picking up by the way,” He said sarcastically as he took off his boots and started pacing around your room like it was his, making himself to the bathroom where the first aid kit was as he kept on rambling.

“Thought you were either still at work or out with friends or whatever, you know, after you very kindly didn’t pick up your phone, ey?” He said. “Came ‘ere to patch myself up, after I tried calling thinking there wasn’t anyone home. You’ve got the nice gauzes, tell your mother thanks for me one of these days, for being a nurse and letting you sneak this things out of the hospital for ya,”

The entire time he was talking there was no reply. No sassy comeback to his sarcasm. No playfully following along his comments. Nothing. Just silence.

But you were awake.

Hobie knew you were awake. He’d heard your breathing and heart rate when you slept countless times before, and from your current breathing and heartbeat now, he knew you were awake. You’d be known to fall asleep with loud punk music on, but even then, you’d were awake.

“Did you hear me?” He asked frowning softly as he knew something by was up.

“Arrived from work a couple of hours ago. No, I didn’t pick up the phone. Yea they are nice gauzes. Yes I’ll say thanks to my mom, especially for not asking questions when I ask her if I can take gauzes and sutures and occasional antibiotics,” you replied dryly, dragging your tongue the way you usually do when you’re either tired or stressed.

“You a’ight?” He said walking towards your bed, reluctant to sit on it as he would’ve liked. As his trousers were a mess and he wasn’t sure if his wound was still bleeding or not.

“No,” You sighed.

“What happened?”

“Eh,” He saw you shrug, even amidst the dark room consumed by night, only the streetlights filtering through your window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, his voice softening.

You were usually the annoyingly optimistic one. You were usually the one begging him to open up and to let things off his chest when something was bothering him.

“No, not really…” You sighed. “Perhaps later…Tomorrow even…”

“Is this usually how it’s like to deal with me when I’m in a mood? You’re not exactly helping me here,” He joked.

He felt some relief when he heard a single chuckle escape your chest. At least you still had your sense of humour there.

“No, not really. You’re more sarcastic when you’re mad, and it’s your sarcasm what usually helps me figure out what happened…”

“Then this is inherently harder…” He pointed out.

“Sorry about that,”

“Can I help you somehow?”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know…” You sighed. “How do you deal with feeling invisible?”

That was the most he’d gotten out of you, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You feel invisible?” He asked softly.

“All day today I’ve felt invisible. No one listens to me, or cares for what I have to say. I’ve been trying to talk and people just cut me off mid sentence to say something completely unrelated…I think I broke up with Mark…”

That last bit took him by surprise. One thing was that you were just having a bad day, and then you mentioned an actual event, and a big one for that matter.

One that he’d been waiting to happen, but he always envisioned you to be raging when you did. Mark was…well, he was a man, for starters. Hobie insisted men ain’t shit —“even myself, luv, I don’t know why you let me be your friend in the first place” he’d say— the amount of self awareness Hobie had came from a rough childhood growing up homeless for the most part of his youth. Something Mark had the good luck not to experience. He was your usual entitled, misogynistic, stuck up wanker. He could afford you gifts and romantic dates every so often. But the times Hobie had seen you mad because of something Mark did outnumbered the amount of times you actually seemed happy to be with Mark.

And he couldn’t believe someone as sweet and smart as you could be with someone like him. Maybe Mark needed someone with a good amount of patience, because otherwise, Hobie couldn’t see how would someone keep up with his shit.

But you weren’t like anyone else he knew. You were perhaps the biggest softy he’d met, which was hilarious because you also called yourself a punk. And you helped him plan out his subversive actions, you helped him with his art pieces, you helped him a lot with indirect work. You never really took a stand and walked into the dangerous situations, but you were always there helping Hobie backstage, remaining anonymous and safe.

Hobie found endearing how sweet and gentle and patient you were for a punk. You took a lot of shit for yourself, but went absolutely insane when someone you cared for received the slightest unfair treatment. He found your fear of getting in trouble adorable, yet understandable. Things had been changing a lot for women recently, but things were still pretty much unfair.

Hobie could understand and respect that. He knew the disadvantage, and was well aware of the privileges that came with being a man. Sure, he was black, but he was still a man. He still had privileges women didn’t have. And not even from a legal standpoint. Even with his skin colour, society tended to respect him more than a woman regardless of her colour.

“Whoa, luv, hold up. What about Mark?” Hobie said.

“I think I’m going to break up with him next time I see him…” You sighed. “At some point I was feeling very bad at work, and I wanted some sort of comfort…During my break I called him…” You sighed softly as your eyes teared up, and Hobie could hear your voice break slightly.

“What did he say?” Hobie sighed, growing annoyed.

“At first he was being helpful. Actually listening. But then…I don’t know, I don’t know if I said something or how I said it, but I heard him sigh and say that he was sorry I was having a bad day but he was dealing with problems much bigger than mine and made some very passive aggressive comments about how he has a real job while I work at a coffee bar…And I hung up on him…” You said, swallowing the lump in your throat, as Hobie felt his own chest squeeze painfully.

“The only worse thing than being ignored, is being shamed for who you are…” You sighed, shutting your eyes closed to keep tears from falling. “I was having a bad day, the last thing I needed was to be scolded, you know?”

Hobie leaned over your bed, and kissed your head while running one of his large hands across your hair. “I’m so sorry, luv…” He whispered. “But good for you. Mark isn’t half the person you are, you deserve someone much better. Although, that might be a tad impossible because you deserve the entire world, and I don’t think there’s someone in the world actually worthy of you…” He said, his voice gentle and sweet, one of the very few instances in which Hobie wasn’t his usual self-satirical-theatrical punk he liked to be. He was capable of being very gentle and sweet.

You chuckled, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his lips burning through your skull in the nicest of ways.

“Hey, I’m all covered in blood and sweat and all those nice things,” He joked. “I’ll go take a quick shower and I’ll be right back with you, okay?”

“Yeah…Thanks, Hobie,”

“Just doing what I must, sweet’eart, don’t sweat it. Are you hungry by the way?” He said standing back up as he headed to your wardrobe.

He grabbed some sweatpants Mark had around, thinking Mark wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Plus, Hobie knew Mark wasn’t exactly fond of how close friends you two were. And Hobie usually wore some of the clothes Mark left at your place, knowing it would piss Mark off when his clothing smelled like your punk bestie rather than your normie boyfriend.

However, he took one of your shirts. His slim thin body actually allowed him to wear your shirts and fit him just perfectly. Perhaps a bit short on his long torso, but for that matter, rarely any shirt that fit his shoulders and chest fit his torso. And any shirt that fit his lengthy body was huge on his shoulders making him look ridiculous.

He took your Patti Smith shirt from the concert you’d gone to just a few months back. He’d gone with you and had actually fallen in love with her and her work. He’d listened to a few of Patti’s tracks, and he considered himself a casual enjoyer and it wasn’t until you dragged him with you to the concert that he became a big fan.

“A bit, actually…” You lied, feeling the pit of your stomach threatening to digest itself if you didn’t eat anything soon.

“Okay, how about this,” He began confidently. “After I shower, we’re gonna go to the new place that opened just around the corner…” He suggested. “Dinner’s on me. And I’ll make up for the bad day you’ve been having, how about that?” He asked as he walked back towards your bed and ruffled your hair playfully.

“I want to be a little ball of suffering and tears,” You whined, chilling softly.

“That’s a bunch of shite and you know it. Come on, wash that pretty little face of yours and get ready, we’re leaving as soon as I’m done,” He said and walked back to your wardrobe, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom.

You chuckled and sat up on the bed, watching him close the bathroom door as you sighed deeply and stood up, heading to the kitchen, taking a large glass of water.

At times like this you were absolutely grateful for having someone like Hobie. No, not someone like him. But having Hobie as your best friend. He was the absolute best friend someone could have. The amount of times he looked out for her more than anyone else, really. More than Mark, more than your friends, more than your own parents.

You washed your face on the kitchen sink and by the time Hobie was out of the shower. Smelling like your body lotion and even your shampoo, his scent was still predominantly there. However to Hobie, all he could smell was that comforting and familiar scent of home.

As you heard him walk out, you headed to the living room where you found him pacing around in black sweats and your Patti Smith shirt.

"Hey, that’s mine," you whined playfully as you walked up to him and tugged on the shirt gently.

"Was" he corrected.

"No, fuck off!” You complained with a gentle laugh as you gently pinched his tummy. "You have your own Patti shirt! This is mine!” I complained like a little kid.

"If you want me to undress you just have to say so," he chuckled as he gave you a cheeky smirk and you pinched his tummy again. "Ow!” He giggled softly and rubbed his stomach where your fingers had been. "C’mon, let’s go get food, I’m famished,"

After dinner and getting back to your apartment, the two of you decided to "watch" movies. You weren’t really watching, you were talking back and forth, sometimes about the movie, sometimes about other things.

You were snuggled right besides him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. His tough keeping you warm, fat more than the blanket over both your laps.

You eventually fell asleep on the couch. His arms around you and you comfortably nuzzling your face against his chest. Despite the couch being too small, you slept comfortably at least until well into the night. You woke up softly sometime after 3 am. Groggy and still in a sleepy haze.

“Hobie?” You murmured.

“Hm?” He replied deeply asleep.

“We fell asleep on the couch…” You yawned.

“Hm,”

“C’mon, we’re going to be more comfortable in bed…” you murmured and tugged on his arm as you clumsily got up and turned off the tv.

“Hm…”

Still somewhat asleep, he stood up and followed you into your room, holding on to your hand as you guided him towards the bed.

As he collapsed on the bed, you followed him and lied down besides him. As soon as you lied down besides him, Hobie pulled you into his embrace. Too asleep to realise what he was doing. You giggled.

“You’re pretty cuddly when you’re sleepy…”

“It’s a you effect…” He mumbled, dragging his tongue as he was mostly asleep. “You make me all mushy…”

Your cheeks blushed as you looked at him. His eyes closed and face relaxed, as you thought perhaps he wasn't going to remember this conversation tomorrow.

“How come?” You asked curiously as your heart raced and suddenly you weren’t sleepy whatsoever.

He shrugged. “You’re the nicest, cutest, bestest person I know, how could I not?” He mumbled.

“Hobie?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have feelings for me?”

“You just noticed?” He scoffed softly as he flashed you a confident smile, his eyes still closed.

“I…yes…”

“Huh,” He chuckled softly. “You’re so cute…”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because we’re friends and I’ve always been scared to—“ his tongue started dragging more and more, as his words soon became incomprehensible and soon he was deeply asleep.

It took you a long while to fall back asleep. Hobie’s sleepy love confession kept you awake as you kept going on and on inside your thoughts as suddenly his gentle and over protective nature towards you made sense.

He was naturally protective of those he cared for. He assumed the role of older brother. But with you it was different. While Hobie hated to be told what to do, and he always made a point to remind people about it. Not you. He always made some joke, but never complained.

Hobie wasn’t a morning person. I’m fact, he hated them. You on the other hand, always woke up at a decent time. Never after nine, but never before eight. A reasonable hour. You killed time reading, waiting for Hobie to wake up. For no particular reason, you simply felt like waiting for him to wake up. Besides, your shift at the coffee bar didn’t start until five that afternoon.

“Hey…” Hobie murmured, catching you off guard as you put down your book and looked at Hobie.

“Morning, you…”

“Morning, luv…”

You looked at him with a sweet and tender smile, remembering the conversation you two had last night. A conversation you knew he had no recollection of. It felt like having a secret between you two, a secret Hobie ignored, but still one you two shared.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He purred.

“No reason…” You chuckled and snuggled against him, hugging him.

Hobie’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. He wondered what exactly was going on, but knew better than to question it and hugged you back.

“You’re weird sometimes…” He chuckled and pressed a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“But you like me this way…” You murmured, taking in a big breath, feeling your lungs fill with his scent.

“Perhaps,” He chuckled and rested his cheek on your head.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x y/n #hobie fanfic

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skipper1331 · 7 months

Text

Tell and show the world // Lina Magull

a/n: based off this request. Please enjoy:D

"Lina" you said as you stood behind the kitchen counter, chopping the vegetables for dinner. "Ja, liebe?" the brunette asked, eyes looking away from her laptop screen. "I‘ve been thinking…" you mumbled, suddenly feeling shy, cheeks slowly turning red, "what‘s wrong?" the german was immediately by your side, "stop the chopping, baby" her fingers laced with your own as she turned you around. When you didn‘t answer her, her hands cupped your cheeks while you started playing with your wedding ring. "When are you going to tell the world about us?" you mumbled, shy, afraid. She seemed confused, jaw tense, eyes that asked many questions. You never had a problem keeping your relationship secret or private. Lina did not tape her ring nor did she wear it during games or ever mentioned that she was in a commited relationship. Her private life was private. Where did the change of heart come from?

"Lately, umm" your voice was shaking - you didn‘t know why, you knew that Lina loved you, she was your wife but something was making you nervous. "Comments. The comments under your posts are getting worse. And- and these ship videos with G, I don’t like them. I like G, don‘t get me wrong, she’s awesome but-" you rambled on about the thirsty comments under her instagram posts, the ship edits you had on your for you page and your hurt feelings. In no way, you were mad at Lina, just hurt with the whole situation. "Hey, hey" the bayern munich player pulled you close, her hands firmly resting on their usual place around your waist while your head hit her shoulder with a quiet thud, "my love, look at me" she demanded softly. With tears in your eyes you looked in to the orbs you‘d loved for so long, "Is that what has been bothering you the last few days?" one of her hands cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears that spilled. You didn't want to admit it, it still hurt you a lot and seeing her do nothing about it was just another little stab in your heart. You knew she didn't read most of the comments except those from her friends and family, so you couldn't blame her - you didn't even want too. Your heart just stung.

In respond, you nodded, biting your lower lip to contain yourself, "Stop crying, please" the germans heart ached at sight in front of her, the way your body shook as the tears ran down your cheeks, "i would tell the world in a heartbeat, liebe."

Your eyes grew wide, only a sniffle coming from your throat, "really?"

"100%"

You chuckled at the determined look the midfielder had on her face, "do you want me to post something on instagram or a tweet or what? Tell me, baby, I‘ll do it" she pressed multiple kisses over your face, a nose scrunch in reply as you giggled along. "You‘re my wife and I love you, okay? I would tell every person in the world myself If that‘s what makes you happy"

Match day.

Champions league semi final.

Bayern Munich vs Chelsea.

Lina was sitting at the press conference table with Alexander Straus as media teams were behind the cameras, many with notes and a mic in their hand.

"Der FC Chelsea ist ein starker Gegner, glauben Sie, sie können gegen so eine starke Mannschaft gewinnen?" an older man asked Alex and Lina, both sharing a look. With a tilt of his head the Bayern coach asked the midfielder If she wanted to answer or If he should - he answered. He told the interviewer, "From goalkeeper to striker, the most diverse talents have met - Guro Reiten, Sam Kerr, Millie Bright and so on - pooled together and formed a high class team. They are very good but not unbeatable. That's what we're trying to show today."

There were some more questions which Lina and Alexander answered before the last question before the game was asked.

"Nächste Frage an Lina Magull: Was motiviert das Team und Sie persönlich den Sieg heute zu holen?"

"Der Titel" she chuckled, "Wir alle sind super motiviert und haben ein hohes Interesse daran, den Titel mit nach Hause zu nehmen und das Halbfinale ist ein Schritt in die richtige Richtung. Am Ende des Tages, kämpft jede für das Team und hat seine eigene Person für die er kämpf, das variiert von Spielerin zu Spielerin. Für mich zum Beispiel ist es meine Frau. Ich betrete heute - immer - das Spielfeld, um meine Frau zu beeindrucken und ihr Strahlen am Abend zu sehen"

The whole room inhaled sharply - wife?! Why didn't anyone know that? Alexander had a smile on his face, of course he knew about you, all the Bayern people knew about you and they loved you - you were great.

Only then did everyone notice the ring the german was wearing on her finger; it was simple yet beautiful - it suited her.

Tell the media she had a wife? check.

Lina loved the faces she saw behind the cameras, there were shocked ones - jaw to floor, there were confused ones - huh? Did she say wife? and there were happy faces.

Sitting in the stands next to Sydney‘s mum you saw the girls walking out of the tunnel. The Allianz Arena was sold out, red shirts everywhere. Even the mens team came to support the girls - a rare sight.

It was just wow. The girls played their hearts and showed their talent. It didn‘t matter that Chelsea got on the score line first, Erin Cuthbert with the header.

Bayern was eager and hungry.

After the first 20 minutes, Bayern played better than their best. Pernille Harder scored the equalizer, she didn‘t celebrate though, she turned to the few Chelsea fans, raised her hand a little and apologized silently. The Blues were her home and family once and still are, even If she doesn‘t play for them anymore.

Georgia was the next to score a banger - outside the box. It was beautiful, AKB had no chance. The stadium went crazy.

Last but not least, was the third goal of the game. The game had built up from Grohs, the Bayern keeper. The girls played a Tiki Taka, the opponents could only watch the ball, there was no chance of taking it. Bühl then converted it to 3-1, the ball slipping past her national team mates fingertips.

When the whistle blew, the stadium got louder and louder, fans were signing chants as they jumped around to celebrate.

When everyone finished shaking their opponents and talked to their friends, the girls swarmed out to sign jerseys and to take pictures. Lina though, she had only one goal in mind. She wanted to see you. You were often at the Bayern games but never in a jersey or at least never in a jersey with 'Magull' on the back of it.

Not until now, this morning the german had told to wear her jersey later, she was very clear with her demand.

"Hi, my love" she whispered after she had jumped over the barrier, her arms going around your waist. Your smile was brigther than the sky while you cupped her cheeks, proud of your wife and her team, "Baby! That was amazing!" The brunette just grinned at you, loving the big wide smile that covered your face. Shortly after your said words your arms looped around her neck, your head on her shoulder as you hugged her dearly. Her own head was hidden in your neck as she pressed soft kisses to it.

First kiss: i‘m so happy.

Second kiss: thank you for being here.

third kiss: i love you.

the multiple kisses after: wow!!

Many eyes and cameras were on you, multiple people taking pictures of the two of you. Yet it didn‘t matter, your heart fluttered at the sight of your wife, the way she interacted with you in front of the fans. Normally it was the bare minimum but not now, she had accepted the concerns you told her about and implemented your wishes, your request. She would do anything, absolutely anything, for you.

And If it wasn‘t clear enough, the kiss on your lips was. She gave you a passionate yet gentle and appropriate one, it was like in the movies; your hands resting on her neck, her own hands placed on your hips as she leant forwads, yourself leaning backwards in return. Lina felt euphoric, like she was high. High on love, high with happiness, high with everything.

It was safe to say, Lina‘s announcement at the press conference went viral, multiple clips across the internet. As well as various edits of the scene in the stadium.

The german international broke the internet, yet it wasn‘t enough for her.

She had announced it to the media, she had demonstrated the fans and she was about to show the world.

linamagull

stanwaygeorgia and 36.047 thousand others

linamagull ❤️

it was that simple. 4 pictures with more or less the same gesture. You in her arms, just with a different view. The pictures were taken over the years, they still gave you enough privacy but a clear statement was made: Lina Magull was happily married.

————————

translation:

Der FC Chelsea ist ein starker Gegner, glauben Sie, sie können gegen so eine starke Mannschaft gewinnen? - Chelsea are a strong opponent, do you think you can win against such a strong team?

Nächste Frage an Lina Magull: Was motiviert das Team und Sie persönlich den Sieg heute zu holen - Next question for Lina Magull: What motivates the team and you personally to win today

Wir alle sind super motiviert und haben ein hohes Interesse daran, den Titel mit nach Hause zu nehmen und das Halbfinale ist ein Schritt in die richtige Richtung. Am Ende des Tages, kämpft jeder für das Team und hat seine eigene Person für die er kämpf, das variiert von Spielerin zu Spielerin. Für mich zum Beispiel ist es meine Frau. Ich betrete heute - immer - das Spielfeld, um meine Frau zu beeindrucken und ihr Strahlen am Abend zu sehen - We are all motivated and very interested in taking the trophy home and the semi-final is a step in the right direction. At the end of the day, everyone fights for the team and has their own person to fight for, it varies from player to player. For me, for example, it is my wife. I step on the pitch today - always - to impress my wife and see her bright smile in the evening.

———————

#lina magull #lina magull x reader #bayern munich frauen #bayern munich women #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #gerwnt #gerwnt x reader #frauen bundesliga #fc bayern frauen #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen

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sunstone-smiles · 9 months

Text

Measuring Mishap

(I’m sorry that the picture is so blurry-)

Author’s note: Another fic with Miguel after I said I would only make one? I couldn’t help myself. Can you blame me? Lol! I hope you enjoy!

Series: Across the Spider-Verse

Characters: Miguel O’Hara and Lyla

Word count: 2,242

Summary: Lyla is assisting Miguel by measuring him for a new spider suit, but a small mishap occurs in the process that leads the AI to instead discover a playful piece of information about him that can make him laugh.

—

It’s hard enough tearing Miguel away from his work, let alone asking the man to stand still. He always has to be active with something, whether it’s skimming through files, capturing anomalies, or making sure that everything in the Spider-Society is in working order, so taking a break is not one of his strong points.

Miguel huffs as he stands in his spider suit on a short, cylindrical platform, his arms crossed. Above him, two robotic limbs hang from a steel frame like the strings of a marionette. A yellow strip of measuring tape is held in the metal fingers of the robotic hands as the contraption measures Miguel from shoulder to shoulder.

Miguel taps his foot on the ground and exhales an impatient sigh. “Lyla, how much longer is this going to take?” he turns to the AI in question, who’s floating beside his head.

“Just a few more measurements and you’ll be good to go,” Lyla taps away on a digital screen in front of her. Matching her own hand movements in sync, a robotic hand taps at the air alongside her while Lyla makes her note. “What’s the rush anyway? You don’t have any meetings scheduled for later.”

“I just want to get back to business, that’s all.”

“Business?” Lyla hovers backwards, almost offended. “I’m measuring you for a new suit to enhance your abilities so you can catch anomalies with more ease,” she demonstrates by controlling the robotic limbs to take Miguel’s arm away from its crossed state, then measuring it from shoulder to wrist, “It doesn’t get more business-y than that.”

“You know what I mean, Lyla,” Miguel shakes his head. “Work, reports, surveillance, making sure the anomalies are properly contained—instead of standing still like this. That kind of business.”

Lyla pulls the measuring tape and the mechanical arms away to type another note. “Yeah, I get it. But doesn’t it feel nice to take a break every once and a while? It definitely gets you away from those screens you always slouch over.” She throws a teasing grin at him and tries to straighten out his back with the robotic hands, like she’s posing an action figure. “I mean, just look at what it’s doing to your posture!”

“My posture is fine,” Miguel grumbles. He shifts his shoulders. “I only feel like every single second that I’m away from my hands-on work, another multiverse is potentially being swallowed whole.”

“Ugg, you’re being dramatic again. And also mathematically incorrect. On average we have three anomalies each day, meaning that every twenty-eight thousand eight hundred seconds another multiverse is in danger, not every single second.” She smirks down at him, pleased with her correction.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Can we just get back to the task at hand, please?” He starts to fidget in his spot, like stretching out his arms to keep himself occupied, yet he’s moving around too much for Lyla to continue measuring him. The AI temporarily hangs the strip of measuring tape on the metal frame above them.

“I’m just saying that you can benefit from loosening up for a bit,” Lyla’s ramblings begin to wander as she tries to position Miguel with the mechanical arms to stand still on the platform, but she’s not paying complete attention to where the robot hands are drifting, “You know, like taking a moment to de-stress. It wouldn’t hurt to try—”

Lyla is suddenly cut off by an uncharacteristic yelp emanating from Miguel. Miguel snatches the robotic wrists away from his sides and fires a glare at Lyla, “Watch where you’re putting these things!”

Processing the aftermath of the yelp, the AI quickly deduces that while she wasn’t paying attention, she must have accidentally squeezed his sides.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” Lyla regains control of the robotic limbs. She properly guides them back towards his torso, but Miguel flinches away, as if on reflex. Lyla tilts her head in curiosity. She shrugs it off and maneuvers the arms close to his sides to hold him straight, but again, Miguel jumps away without her touching him, as if he was suddenly anxious of the mechanical hands.

She tries once more, but every time the robotic hands get close, he recoils and restarts her progress. Lyla narrows her eyes at him and pouts. “Miguel, hold still,” she tries to catch him without him flinching away, almost like corralling a startled horse into a stable. She attempts to grab at his arm, “I can’t get accurate measurements if you keep—”

“Hey!” Miguel tenses up with a squeak when she mistakenly pinches at his ribs.

Lyla pulls the robot hands away, smiling with intrigue at the sound Miguel just made. “What was that?” she giggles.

Miguel tightens his arms closer to his chest, almost like he wanted to sink into himself. Miguel clears his throat. He adverts his eyes from Lyla's gaze. “It was—”

“Nothing?” she cuts him off with a sly smile, “I thought you would say that. Analyzing what just occurred now.”

“Lyla wait, don’t-

The pixels of Lyla’s heart-shaped glasses flash twice. “Analyzing complete. I detected a hint of laughter in your voice. And came to the conclusion that…” Lyla pauses as her data is pieced together. “No…” her mouth widens along with her eyes. “No way!” her voice heightens with excitement. “You’re—!”

Miguel barks, “Don’t say it!”

“You’re ticklish!”

Miguel face palms with a growling sigh, flinching just hearing that word. “You said it…”

Lyla giggles excitedly, almost squealing like a fangirl. “How am I just learning about this now?! I need to know all the juicy details! Like, where are you the most ticklish?” She teasingly moves the robot arm with wiggling fingers towards his stomach. Miguel quickly grabs the wrist of the contraption before it can make contact.

“L-Lyla! This is not the time for these unnecessary activities!” he shoves the metal limb away from him.

“Nah, I think this is a perfect time! What you need is a good laugh!” She commands a robot limb to grab Miguel’s left wrist above his head, like she was innocently going to measure his arm for his new suit. “So, are you ticklish here?” Lyla quickly says and flutters her fingers to control the robot’s fingers to do the same into his underarm. Miguel sucks in a gasp and swiftly yanks his arm down, bringing it close to his body and clinging tightly to his own wrist.

“Hey!” Miguel snarls towards the AI, but Lyla had already zoomed behind him and switched to his other shoulder.

“Or here?” Lyla wiggles the chilled robotic fingers into the side of his neck. Miguel instantly scrunches up his shoulders and growls to hold back any further reaction to the tingly scratches. Trying to fight back, he attempts to nab the robot hand out of the air, but Lyla promptly dodges herself and the hands out of the way and behind him.

“Or how about here!” Lyla slips both robot hands into Miguel’s underarms from behind, striking like a snake. Miguel yelps and arches his back from the surprise, immediately clamping both of his arms to his sides and snarling to cover up any giggles that need to be stifled.

“L-Lyla!” Miguel barely chokes back an audible giggle from slipping through while trying to squirm from her grasp. His mouth twitches on and off with a smile that shows off his fangs and his frame begins to lurch forward, like he wants to curl up into a ball, the longer he holds his laughter.

“Come on!” Lyla exclaims from behind, “Stop hiding your laughter! Let me hear it!”

Miguel has to hold strong. Who knows what data-collecting Lyla can do with one of his giggly reactions if she gets her hands on it. She of course wouldn’t do anything that could hurt him, but the flustering earful of teases that he’ll hear afterwards is enough to keep himself from giving in to the easy route. Miguel faces this like a challenge.

He growls through his fangs like a big cat fending off a stronger force. “Absolutely n-not! Aye!” he squeaks when Lyla moves the mechanical hands down to both of his sides, clawing into the vulnerable area. Miguel throws his arms around himself in defense, his smile turning more wobbly by the second as he tries to hold back the giddy bouncing of giggles jumping on pogo sticks in his belly.

“Ah ha! Getting closer! I just have to get past your stubbornness!” Lyla smiles and moves one of the robot hands towards his ribs, teasingly scratching at a spot between the curved bones through the material of his suit. Miguel jolts and snickers start to spill out through hisses bypassing his fangs. He squeezes one arm to his side while the other tries to pry the robotic wrist away from wiggling into his ribs. She’s getting closer to breaking through the dam of his laughter and she knows it.

“Knock it ohohoff!” a giggle slips through Miguel’s defenses. He’s doomed. Lyla grins. Now is the moment she’s been waiting for.

Lyla’s glasses flash when she sees the opening she was planning in her sight. The other robotic hand by Miguel’s side whirs with Lyla’s control, then strikes directly at his tummy, swiping its clawed fingers back and forth like a sponge. “Gotcha now, Miguel!”

“GAH! Lylahahahaha!” Miguel finally bursts into robust laughter. He stumbles backwards, nearly falling, but Lyla places the palm of the second robot hand on the center of his back to stabilize him. However, although he’s still standing, his wriggling torso is caught in between the clawed hand vibrating at his tummy and the one stabilizing him. He throws his giggling head forward with a huge, fanged smile on his face, then grabs at the robotic wrist in an attempt to tug away the mischievous machine hand at his stomach. “Dahahamn it!” Miguel shouts through his laughter, knowing that Lyla has come out victorious. One of the strongest spider-men has been defeated by his own AI with a little bit of tickling.

“There’s that laugh I was looking for!” Lyla smiles along with Miguel. “Why did you have to go and hide it? Now I have to make up for all the laughter I missed!” Seeing another advantage to tease him, Lyla scoops up both of Miguel’s wrists in one robotic hand and pulls his arms out in front of him.

“I’ll take those, thank you,” she beams above him. She then uses the unoccupied robotic hand to reach the ticklish places she tried before, now that the gates that were holding back his laughter have erupted.

Miguel squeals and jolts with laughter as the free mechanical hand scritches and scribbles at the rest of his torso. Lyla swiftly switches from spot to spot, like a scratch to his ribs, a squeeze to his sides, a scribble or two to his belly and underarms. She pokes around his whole torso, sending Miguel into a squirming, giggling frenzy.

“Lylahahahaha!!! Quihihihit it!” Miguel attempts to tug back his arms as his joyful laughter fills the room. He releases a snort, then buries his face in his shoulder, trying to hold on to any dignity he has left.

“No wonder you couldn’t hold still! You’re just that ticklish!” Lyla giggles at Miguel’s reaction. “Ironically though, I’m still able to get some measurements from you. Of where you’re the most ticklish, that is, which I determine to be your belly! Your laughter is zero point five decibels higher in that spot than the rest of your tickle spots! Watch!” Lyla then takes the opportunity to return to scribbling at his stomach, causing Miguel to squeak and increase the volume of his laughter, just as expected.

“LYLA!” Miguel calls out her name again in an attempt to scold her, even though his voice is currently laced with silly sounding laughter, “Thahahahat’s enohohohough!!!”

“Aww, so soon? But alright, I gotcha,” Lyla smiles and releases his wrists. Miguel instantly wraps his arms around himself, panting as he catches his breath from the tickle attack.

Lyla floats over to his shoulder. “See? Now wasn’t that fun?”

Miguel huffs out a growl. He glares at Lyla out of the corner of his eye. “That was NOT fun!”

“Say what you want Miguel,” Lyla shrugs with a lingering, all-knowing smile on her face, “but I can read that your body language is much more relaxed than it was before.”

Miguel opens his mouth to counter her, but he stops himself. He looks away from her with a defeated scowl. A small blush heats in his cheeks. He, unfortunately, can’t argue with her data about him feeling more relaxed.

Lyla hovers back to his other side to grab the measuring tape that she had previously hung on the contraption's metal frame. “Now, let’s get back to business. I still need to finish measuring you for real.”

Miguel flinches away from her, reflexively bringing his arms close to his body for split second defense. “There’s more?!” he frantically questions.

The AI chuckles at his flustered reaction. “Hehe, relax Miguel. I promise I won't tickle you on purpose,” she holds out a reassuring, open palm. “But you better hold still this time,” she ends her sentence with a lighthearted smirk.

Needless to say, Miguel fully understands that he should listen to her advice, but at least the short break in the middle of their work wasn’t a total waste of time.

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #atsv lyla #lyla spiderverse #sfw fanfiction #sfw fanfic #sfw tickle fic #tickle fic

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lykaios2 · 9 months

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

I wake up in the night alot and struggle to get back to sleep unless rock myself like a damn baby.

So what about a one shot where reader is napping on rise donnie lap while he works and they wake up and get restless trying to get back to sleep so he rocks his chair back and forth so help them!

your idea has been heard

I decided to keep this one short, I didn't think it needed a super long story

anyway here you go! hope you enjoy

Like a Mother to a Child

rise donnie x reader

cw: sweet adorableness

word count: 826

It was another peaceful night in the lab. There was very little noise, which was a true rarity in the Hamato household. Everyone was doing their own thing, except for you and Donnie. Donnie enjoyed it when the lair was quiet, and he said enjoyed it even more when you were there with him. There were a lot of reasons he enjoyed your company, but it was mainly so he had someone to talk to who he knew would actually listen.

You were in his lab, laying on the floor while he rambled on about his newest invention. It was a sort of win-win situation for you two, he got to tell you all about his work, and you got to relax and listen to him talk. Even though you didn’t always understand what he was talking about, you thought it was cute the way he would talk and talk about his passions without a care in the world.

“…and so when you connect the transformer here, it runs the power to here, which allows the computer to…”

“Interesting. yawns Man, I’m kinda tired. It’s so quiet, I’m starting to fall asleep.”

“Oh? Why don’t you lay somewhere else? The floor can’t be comfortable.”

“Yeah, it’s not so fun when you’re trying to sleep. Would you mind…if I sat on your lap while you worked? It would help me sleep.” He chuckled.

“Sure, darling. Come here.”

You got up from the floor and stretched before walking over to his chair and settling yourself comfortably in his lap. He smiled and kissed your forehead before returning to his work. He continued to talk, but softer now that he knew you were trying to sleep. Almost in a whisper, but not quite. As you started to fall asleep in his lap, you snuggled close to him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder. Every minute you sat there, you came closer to sleep. Donnie’s quiet voice, the noises he made while he worked, and even the soft and gentle rhythm of his heartbeat all came together to create this perfectly calm and relaxing environment. Before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber. Donnie only figured this out himself when he tried to talk to you, but didn’t receive an answer. He only smiled again and kept working.

He worked long into the night, trying his best not to wake you up. You slept peacefully, never letting go of him. Everything was going well, until he dropped something big on the floor. The noise woke you up, much to Donnie’s dismay.

“…hm? What…what was that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry my love, I dropped something on the floor. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“…mmm, s’kay. I’m jus’ gon’ go back to sleep…”

“Of course, good night.”

You snuggled up to Donnie again, expecting to fall back asleep quickly. You were tired, so you started to get a little frustrated when 20 minutes passed by and you still hadn’t fallen asleep yet. You tried blocking out noises. You tried humming to yourself. You tried different positions, trying to get comfortable. But nothing was working.

“You okay, y/n? You’re a little restless.”

“Yeah, I just…can’t seem to fall asleep again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was my fault, I didn’t mean to.”

“No no, it’s okay. You don’t need to blame yourself.”

“Well, it’s still my fault, and I feel a little bad. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uhm…I don’t know. I don’t really have anything to help me fall asleep.”

“Hmm. Oh, there is one thing that used to help me fall asleep. We could try that.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Here, get up for a second if you can.”

You got up from his lap, and he moved in his chair. He beckoned you back, this time holding you like a mother holds a small child. When you sat down, he started to rock his chair back and forth.

“What am I, a four year old?”

“Hey, be quiet. You can’t fall asleep if you’re talking, dum-dum.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll shut up.”

He continued to rock back and forth in his chair, slowly, back and forth. You were laying your head on his chest, so he was able to watch as your eyelids slowly started to shut.

“Hmm, this is nice.”

“See, it’s not so terrible. Is it helping at all?”

“Mhm…I think I might be able to fall asleep again. Just…hold me…and keep rocking…”

“Heh, okay love. Just for you.”

Donnie continued to rock his chair, and hold you close to him. Your eyes eventually shut all the way. It was so comfortable, you could just…fall asleep right there…

“y/n? y/n? Ah, I suppose you’ve fallen asleep by now. Well then, good night. Again.”

He gave you one more kiss on your forehead before laying back and falling asleep himself, with you in his arms.

#lykaios writes #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie rottmnt #donnie x reader #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Note

Surprise, Surprise

AN: It took me a while @navybrat817 but I did something with this little thot you sent me back in June for my birthday. This serves as a follow- up to my kinktober fic Need you now.

Unbeta'd ramblings

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha! Nomad Steve x Omega! Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

CW: Angst, Attempted assault, Misogyny, Mild Violence, Fluff and Feels, implied sexy times.

Steve leant forward, his weight shifting on to his arms as his hands lay flat against the control panel. It was just a reflex. Getting closer to the view screen wouldn’t change what it was saying, wouldn’t change the fact that he didn’t know where you were.

“I’ve gotta find her, Tony.”

“Chill your boots, Capsicle. She’ll be somewhere.”

Steve ground his teeth, biting back an angry retort.

“I haven’t seen or heard from her in months. She’s overdue her heat. Her apartment is all packed and cleared out. If she’s hurt, or in danger, I’ll never forgive myself.”

A firm hand came down on Steve’s shoulder.

“We’ll find your girl, Stevie. I’m sure Stark and I can put aside our differences long enough.”

There was a derisive snort from Tony’s workstation but Steve chose to ignore it.

“Thanks, Buck. I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I could do, you know, considering that helping me is what got you into this in the first place.”

Steve gave Bucky a small smile.

“It wasn’t your fault, Buck. Blame the Accords.”

“But they’re rescinded now,” added Tony. “So now we’re a happy family once again, let’s find Cap’s errant Omega, shall we. Then Cyborg and I can go back to ignoring each other.”

Steve sighed and shook his head.

Where could you be?

You made your way down the busy sidewalk, trying your best not to get jostled by everyone else who seemed to be going in the opposite direction. It was cold and dark out, and you had on your big winter coat, but just the act of going against the flow was getting you all hot and sweaty. You didn’t dare undo it though.

It had been 5 months since you’d last seen Steve, when your one word missive via text had brought him out of hiding for a brief few days during your heat. A few days in which you could forget that he was a wanted man on the run. A nomad. He’d just been Steve. Your mate. Your Alpha.

But it was getting hard now. His scent had almost completely faded from his shirt, the one you currently wore. You were desperate to have the vestiges of him on your skin, not only because you missed him, but for safety.

You may wear a mating scar on your neck, but you barely had any Alpha scent lingering on you, meaning that some Alphas, unmated ones, saw you as fair game. An abandoned mated Omega was just a single Omega in their eyes. You’d already suffered some harassment in the last few weeks, cat calls and the such like, but you needed to keep yourself safe.

You pressed on. It was only another couple of blocks until you got back to your shitty apartment. You missed your old one, but after Steve’s last visit, when clarity had hit you a few weeks later, you knew that for his and your safety you couldn’t stay there. You’d packed up only the most precious of your belongings and hit the road.

Suddenly someone bumped into you with surprising force and you spun, your bags dropping to the ground, before you inelegantly joined them. You breathed a sigh of relief when you realised you’d landed on your backside.

You were just reorientating yourself, a part of you frustrated by how everyone was just passing you by, when a shadow fell over you.

“Need a hand?”

You looked up, and saw two men standing over you. The one who’d spoken had his hand out.

You accepted, tentatively, and let out a small gasp as he easily hefted you to your feet. He smiled at you, but there was something off about it, the way it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You ought to be careful, omega. Being out here, in the dark, all on your lonesome.”

His friend thrust your belongings into your arms and you gripped them tightly so as not to spill them again. You were feeling uncomfortable and just wanted to get home.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you for stopping to help.” You made to step around them and carry on your way, but the pair shifted, caging you in against the side of the building behind you.

“Never a problem for a pretty omega.” His smile turned into a predatory grin and you tried to school your features and not let your discomfort show.

“Well, thank you again…” You took another step, but neither of them moved.

“We’re you going in such a hurry? Thought we could get to know each other better. Maybe you thank us properly.”

You steeled yourself for the inevitable confrontation and tried to nonchalantly catch the eye of a passer-by. Any passer-by.

“Look. I’m appreciative. But I’ve got to get home to my Alpha.” You tilted your head to show your mating scar, but the man just dropped his head slightly, and scented you. You couldn’t repress the full body shiver such an invasion of privacy the act elicited.

“The thing is, ‘mega, I see the scar, but you barely have any of your alpha scent on you. Makes me think you’ve been abandoned, sweet thing.”

You glared before trying to push your way between them.

“I don’t want any trouble.”

He grabbed your upper arm, jerking you to a halt.

“Then come with us nicely, and you won’t have any.”

“No. I’m not going with you. I owe you no other thanks than what I’ve given. And even if I didn’t have an alpha, which I do, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere with either of you.”

The grip on your arm tightened and you couldn’t stop the small cry of pain you let out.

“Ungrateful, omega bitch. Let’s see if you change your tune when you’ve got a knot in you.”

His friend took hold of your other arm and between them they started to haul you towards the mouth of an alley. You dropped your bags again so you’d have your hands free and dropped your weight to make it harder for them to move you. Also, it was now time to make a scene.

“Get off of me. Let me go, you creeps!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, squirming and twisting their grasp, but in the time you’d been interacting with them, the massive crowds that had been your bane earlier on had now disappeared.

You turned your head and latched your teeth onto one of the hands holding you, feeling a burst of pride in your chest when you broke the skin and the man cried out. He dropped you as he let go, and you sank to the floor. Your joy was short-lived though when he back-handed you around the face, and you went dizzy from the force of it. Your vision was cloudy as they pulled you back up.

“Just think, sweetheart. We were willing to be nice. Could have made sure you enjoyed it, but now? Now it’s just for us.” He turned to his buddy. “When did omegas get so uppity? Was a time when as an alpha you just had to say jump and omegas would ask how high.”

Your panic was rising, along with the bile in your throat, but then you smelt it.

Smelt him.

Your salvation.

For a moment you thought your brain was playing tricks on you, but then your hindbrain started whining excitedly and you knew it was true.

“Let. Her. Go.”

A deep growl sounded from the street end of the alley, and your would-be assailants dropped you and turned at the sound. You caught yourself on your palms, scrapping them on the hard, filthy ground, but you didn’t care.

“Steve!” His blue eyes flicked over you, no doubt checking to see how much you’d been hurt, as he stalked forward towards the two men.

“How dare you touch my mate. How dare you touch any omega like that.” His voice was unsettlingly calm and you saw the two men look towards each other, a silent conversation about fight or flight. They didn’t make their decision quickly enough though, because suddenly Steve was in front of them, knocking them out with one punch each, then walking past them, already forgotten, as he focused on you.

“Are you okay, baby?” His voice was full of trepidation as he scooped you up against his chest. You rubbed your face into the crook of his neck, covering your skin with his scent and allowing it to calm you.

“‘M okay, Steve. Just lost my stuff.”

You felt his chuckle rumble through your body.

“I’ll get you some more stuff, Omega. Let’s get you home.”

You allowed him to carry you, your fingers curled into the lapels of his brown suede jacket. You inhaled his scent deeply, and realised after a few minutes that you were purring. Steve pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you were sure you could hear him smile.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Missed you too.”

You didn’t tell him where your apartment was, but you weren’t surprised that he knew. Of course he’d found out, otherwise he wouldn’t have been in this neighbourhood anyway. He let you back on your feet outside your door, and you were glad that you’d put your keys in your pocket and not your bag. You opened the door and walked through, flicking on the light and illuminating your meagre accommodation.

You could tell Steve wasn’t impressed. If the scent of his dissatisfaction wasn’t obvious enough, the way he went around the whole place, scoping out locks on all the windows would have let you know.

“Baby, why are you living here? Why did you leave your old apartment?”

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth. You couldn’t get away with not telling him, so sooner rather than later was obviously the best strategy. You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. You still had your coat on, and with how much heat Steve pumped out, you were starting to sweat within a few seconds.

“I was scared, Steve. And I felt vulnerable. My mind was telling me that I had to go somewhere safe. Somewhere unknown. What if someone had followed you the last time you had visited. Then we…I wouldn’t be safe.”

“You’ve neer felt like that before, Omega. I’ve visited you for your heat there lots of times.”

Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you shook your head, a wry smile on your face.

“Yeah, but last time was sort of different.”

Steve looked down at you, confusion on his face, as you stepped away from him and unzipped your coat, pulling it off and tossing it aside.

Your mate looked at you.

Frozen still.

Mouth agape.

Then he dropped to his knees in front of you, wrapped his arm around your thickened waist and pressed his cheek to your swollen belly, which was barely covered by his worn black t-shirt. You let him have a moment, and just ran your fingers through his dirty blonde locks, humming gently and letting out a soothing scent.

When he pulled his face away and sat back on his heels he was looking up at you in awe. His eyes were red rimmed and you could see the tracks of a few silent tears on his pinked cheeks.

“You’re having my pup?”

You smiled at him and put out your hand to pull him up.

“Yes, silly. Although, I have a feeling it might be pups. Two.”

Steve stood, only to stagger a few feet to your worn sofa, before dropping down into it and pulling you with him to sit across his lap. One of his arms was around your back, supporting you, and the other lay across your stomach, long fingers splayed over your bump. He gave you a soft, lingering kiss, before pulling back and shaking his head, still in disbelief.

“You’re having my pups. Pups. You. Me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at him, how shocked he was by it all.

“Well, that’s generally what happens when an Alpha and an Omega love each other very much and have a special cuddle…oww!”

You let out a cry as Steve playfully nipped at your neck, just above your mating scar, before running his tongue over it.

“Okay, just stop teasing me, baby. It’s a shock, alright? I knew it was a possibility, but I just didn’t think it would happen. Not yet.”

“Steve, it’s not like we were doing anything to prevent it.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…it’s just part of me thought it wouldn’t happen until we were properly together again.”

Your heart sunk in your chest, as he reminded you of the current state of your relationship.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you resumed toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“When do you have to go?”

“Well, I was thinking that we’d stay here tonight, then pack you up and move you to the compound tomorrow.”

You sat back up with a start.

“What? Compound? What do you mean?”

“Well, now I’m back, I have a big apartment at the Compound, and if you’re there with me, then we can get you the best medical care and…”

You scrabbled off his lap, chest suddenly tight.

“Back? You’re back? When? How? I’m…oh my god, I can’t breathe.”

You sank to the floor, leaning over and dragging air into your lungs. Steve knelt down beside you rubbing your back, letting his scent flow in an effort to soothe you.

“My turn to shock you, ey, Omega?”

You nodded, still unable to speak and feeling a prickling in your eyes.

“I don’t know how you missed it, but the Accords were rescinded. I mean I still gotta have a long ass meeting with some high up folk, but I’m no longer a wanted man. Tony and I have even made tentative steps to get our friendship back on track. Brought Bucky back with me too.”

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his, uncaring at the tears rolling down your face.

“You’re back, you’re back. Oh god. And I’m having your pups and I can move out of this shitty apartment. Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”

Steve chuckled, and then for the second time in as many hours scooped you up into his arms.

“How about you show me where you sleep in this awful place, and I’ll bite your neck instead, Omega…”

His words were almost a growl as he rubbed his face up against yours, and you felt heat suffuse your body.”

“I’d like that very much, Alpha…”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

#alpha steve rogers #nomad!steve #alpha steve x omega reader #nomad steve x reader #alpha nomad steve #late writes #asks answered #jen's got mail #love my moots

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clownd1ck · 9 months

Text

sex is an art (so let me paint you) | f. castle

frank castle x fem!reader

the part two of ‘shut me up’ that no asked for but pls i needed to write this so bad i was going to shit myself if i didn’t write this

summary: two weeks ago, frank castle kissed you. two weeks ago, frank castle made you feel special. two weeks ago was the last time you saw frank castle, now you’re being dragged out of a club by him in a jealous rage.

warnings: SMUTT (18+ pls), oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), FRANK LOVES THIGHS, thigh spanking (yeah i did that), overstimulation, p in the v, choking, reader sucks frank’s fingers HAHA, frank being cocky, praise kink, begging, hickeys, bruises, biting, did someone say pet names?, nipple play, tummy bulging, daddy used like twice (i had to 😔), spitting, hair pulling, age gap (reader is 23, frank is 37), frank castle the aftercare king, did i miss anything other than my dignity?

clubbing was never your thing. flashing lights, loud music, too many people in a room would have your head spinning in overstimulation. most 23 year olds would be living out their best days in the club, gathering stories to tell to their friends the next day. that was never you, the only story that originated from clubbing was the night you met frank castle, and it was one you didn’t share to anyone. mainly because you couldn’t, but also because he was your dirty secret.

however, you find yourself in between these sweaty bodies, speakers blaring a familiar tune and an empty glass of what once held a vodka redbull in your hand. you were soon to abandon the empty glass at the bar, it was the only drink you had consumed the entire night because you never felt safe drinking outside of your own home. you weren’t drunk, but you were drunk on your own feelings of sorrow and disappointment.

sharing a kiss with frank castle was something you’ve wanted since you met him. he was stoic and brooding, someone most people stayed away from but you found yourself entranced by him. he was soft with you, in his own little way. he let you ramble over silly things, watched your favourite movies with you and if he ever took a pitstop to a diner before coming to see you he always got you pancakes. frank listened to you, he thought of you, and it made you feel so appreciated.

so why he hadn’t returned to you for two weeks after a kiss he initiated had you feeling emotions you didn’t want to feel towards him.

you guessed that’s why you agreed to go out with some old friends to a local club. you wanted to forget everything, be like one of the girls you knew and have a one night stand that you could share and giggle about with your friends at brunch the next day.

wallowing in self pity was becoming boring. especially when there was a guy who had been making eye contact with you from across the room for the past twenty minutes, but you couldn’t blame him. the dress you wore was black, it was sheer and jesus christ, it was short. the heels you wore were platforms, adding a good four inches to your height. so much skin was showing, your legs, the skin under the sheer lace of the dress and if you were to bend over or lean forward, the curve of your ass would show to everyone in the room. but you were hot, you felt hot, and the man across the room agreed.

you find yourself walking over to the man. he’s decently good looking, but he’s not frank. you grab the man’s hand, walking backwards onto the dance floor as he smirks at you and you give him the most innocent eyes and soft smile you can muster.

the song has changed, it’s slow and sensual and the perfect song to grind your hips against the crotch of this unknown man. and so you do. you allow him to grab your hips to draw you in closer, to feel the hard on he’s got from your movements.

the feeling doesn’t last long.

there’s two new hands on your hips that are dragging you away from the unknown man, dragging you out the door of the club and into the dead of the night. you’re frustrated, sexually and just in general. you have a good feeling as to who dragged you away, and the thought of him doing this to you made you want to explode.

“why the fuck, frank?” you scream, turning around to face him, putting distance in between your bodies.

he ignores you, and it’s the first time he’s ever done that before and it aggravates you to no end. so you follow him, and he stops at a car you didn’t know he had but realised it probably wasn’t his in the first place.

“answer me, frank!”

“get in the car.” he opens to passenger seat, and you stare at him in disbelief.

“no.”

“get in the car.” he repeats.

“fuck off.”

“get in the fucking car.” he speaks in a tone you’ve never heard before. it’s not intimidating by any means, but it’s one that tells you you should listen and so you do.

you’re in the car, and frank gets in the driver’s seat and you know he’s going to drive you home and you’ll finish your screaming match there. it’s silent the entire ride, but for once, you don’t find yourself uncomfortable in it. in fact, you’re cherishing the silence now because you fear of the words that may be said the second you’re home.

and before you know it, you are.

“what the fuck was that, frank?” you exclaim as you step into your apartment, closing and locking the front door behind you once you’re both inside. “you can’t just drag me away like that.”

“he had his hands all over you.” he says gruffly, arms crossing over his chest. “what was i supposed to do?”

“what you were supposed to do was let him do it!”

he laughs at that, and the fact that he thinks it’s hilarious only fuels your anger. who was he to act like this? like you were his girlfriend, like you belonged to him? it feels like he’s laughing at you instead of the situation you’re both in. and it only fucks you up more.

“this is funny to you?”

“yeah, fucking hilarious.” he stalks over to you, hands cupping your face which forces your eyes to meet his. you hate eye contact, you despise it, but you could easily get lost in frank’s eyes. “fucking hilarious you think i’m gonna allow another man to put his hands on you.”

a laugh erupts from your mouth. “cause you have a say in what i do when you left me for two fucking weeks, frank!”

he never realised how much he hated his name until it fell from your lips. he’s never been frank to you, he’s always been frankie. he’s frankie, he’s your frankie, and that one time where you jokingly called him your daddy, and he hasn’t been able to get that off his mind since. you drive him insane, but you gravitate him, make frank realise he’s got someone to look forward to, to come home to.

“had to think. had to think how i was gonna be around you and try to act all fucking normal when all you’ve ever done is live in my fucking head.” he grumbles, moving his face closer to his. you’re staring into each other’s souls, you’re seeing parts of each other you’ve never explored before.

“two weeks, frankie.” you mumble weakly, because you were weak around frank.

“had to figure things out, figure out how i was gonna tell you how i feel then you weren’t at home. find you at the damn club with some guy touching you and jesus christ, i don’t wanna see that again.”

“frank?”

he hums, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“fuck me.”

his lips are locked with yours the second the words leave your mouth. his tongue is entering your mouth and the grasp his hands have on your face becomes more possessive, like he’s showing you just how much you mean to him. you’re walking backwards, back, back, back, until you’re opening a door that was never locked and your legs crash against your bed, causing you to fall onto it.

frank’s stood over you, looking at how fucking good you sit so prettily waiting for him. eyes meeting his, wide and doe like as a means to bewitch him in the spell that is seduction, something you radiate, something he gravitated towards.

his hand finds your jaw, tilting it up slightly. it moves to stroke your cheek, but not without brushing over your lip and something seems to snap in him when he does it, because next thing you know, he’s dragging his thumb over your lip. “so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart.” he hums, watching as your lips lock round the tip of his thumb. “yeah, so fuckin’ pretty.”

frank bends down to your height, hand abandoning your face so he can run them both over the exposed skin of your thighs. his right hand comes down harshly, slapping one of them and by the grace of god himself, the way you moaned was filthy. he smirked at your reaction, repeating it again and again and you were too caught up in the feel to notice how his hands, his large, veiny hands had spread your legs apart.

you’re not entirely exposed to him. the black lace thong you wore covering your cunt but it isn’t enough to hide how completely desperate you were for him. he chuckles at that, muttering something about how dirty you were from getting turned on by him spanking your damn thighs.

his hands find the hem of your dress, pushing it up and pulling it over your body, so now everything was revealed except the one place you needed frank the most. his eyes are immediately latched onto your nipples. you had changed the bars since the last time you saw him, angel wings sat on either side of the bar and you didn’t feel like a fucking angel when you were letting the devil himself touch you like this.

frank’s mouth immediately latches onto your left nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue and you let out the most pornographic moan he thinks he’s ever heard. it was the bite that caused you to squeal, eyes rolling back into your head and the only thing frank did was chuckle at how your body reacts to him. he repeats the action on your other nipple, biting, sucking, tongue swirling and you know there are going to be hickies there tomorrow but the idea of having frank’s mark on you has you spiralling.

“frankie…” you mutter “please.”

he looks up at you, a small smirk on his face as his hand reaches behind you, hand finishing its way into the base of your hair, pulling you forwards. “no, sweetheart. remember that one word you called me? fuckin’ teased me with it, didn’t know how much i wanted to fuck you right then and there when you said it. you remember what it was, baby?”

“daddy.” you whisper.

“that’s right.” the sound of his voice, gruff and hoarse makes you swallow. “i’m your daddy.”

he’s running his hands down your body again, until they find your thong and he snaps the material against your skin, causing you to yell. he’s pulling them down your legs in an instant, and the grip he has on your thigh will no doubt leave bruises as he delves into your cunt, lips attaching to your clit.

your body falls backwards as he sucks at the nub, before turning his attention elsewhere as he begins to feast at your cunt like he’s on death row and you’re his last meal. “fuck…daddy-” you cut yourself off as you begin to move, and his arm stretched over your hips to hold you down and your thighs entrap his head between them. but that’s heaven for frank castle, between your thighs.

you can feel the orgasm creeping up on you, and so can frank by the way you pathetically moan out his name like it’s your favourite melody. “please, please, frank. let me cum, please, need it so bad.” you beg.

frank adds to this growing orgasm, his fingers entering your hole and stuffing you full. they hit that spongy spot inside of you until you’re shaking, trying to move away from the intensity of your first orgasm but frank isn’t done with you, and you can tell by the way he holds you down and feasts on your cunt yet again.

he’s hungry, he’s a man starved and he laps up your cum like no tomorrow. his tongue is flicking up and down, lips latching onto your clit and you scream at the intensity. his fingers are still hitting inside of you, and before you know it, you’re cumming again. frank’s lips detach from your clit, watching as your eyes roll back and you moan.

“you gonna cum again, sweetheart? yeah?” he chuckles as he feels your drip onto his fingers, but he isn’t letting up. he hasn’t this entire time. it’s why your third orgasm washes over you and you’re breathless. the entire time you’ve been moaning your voice has gradually become more hoarse, but that appears to be frank’s goal.

frank stands up, placing his fingers in your mouth and watches as you suck him clean. your saliva drips from his digits and it’s so fucking filthy but you revel in the way you taste.

you frown at the loss of his fingers in your mouth, but you realise you have nothing to complain about because he’s taking his hoodie off, followed by his boots and his pants. the outline of his cock is prominent in his boxers and you feel yourself gulp.

“frankie, please.”

“please what, sweetheart?”

“please, need you to fuck me so bad.” frank smirks, climbing onto the bed and placing your legs around his torso. his cock is rubbing up against your cunt and you whimper at the feel. “frank, pl…please.”

“you need it, baby? need my cock filling up that pretty little cunt of yours? say ‘pretty please’, sweetheart. be a good girl, f’me.” he’s looking down at you, and you’re giving h the same wide eyed doe like look you did before this started, and he’s falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole that is you love.

“pretty please.” you bat your eyelashes, and feel frank line his cock up into your entrance before slowly pushing in. he’s big, he’s thick and it’s a lot, so it’s why when he leans down so he’s hovering over you you immediately attach your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as his hips move at a hard pace.

“f…frank. feels s…so good- fuck.” you cry out, lips moving away from his because you’re so damn lost in the way his cock hits your g spot that it has you levitating. his hand wrapped round your throat, guaranteed to bruise tomorrow but being claimed by frank has never felt so good.

“yeah, feels good? hitting that sweet, sweet spot inside of you?” his hand reaches from your neck to between your bodies, hand pressing down on your stomach where his cock moves inside of you. the touch has your legs tightening around his waist, back arching to the point where your clit grinds against him. “feel that, sweetheart? feel how good i’m fucking you?” frank kisses your jaw. “only me, sweetheart. gonna fuck you like this whenever you want.“ he pressed down harder. “my good girl- fuck, my good fucking girl..”

“frank, gonna…gonna cum.”

his hand moved from your stomach to your jaw, where he taps your cheek twice. “open up, sweetheart.” and you do. frank spits into your mouth, and like the good girl you are, you swallow, causing frank to press a soft peck on your lips. “look at you. doing whatever i fuckin’ want. so pretty, baby. should see yourself right now, taking my cock so well.” he takes not ur of how your nails are digging into his back. “you gonna cum, baby? look so fuckin’ pretty when you cum. cum all over my cock, sweetheart.”

and you do. your legs shake against his torso but frank’s endless pounding doesn’t stop. he’s grunting down your ear as you hold his face in your hands and kiss his lips. “frankie…cum inside of me.” you beg, and his eyes snap to meet yours as if to ask if you’re being serious. “please.”

it doesn’t take long until frank is finishing inside of you, filling you up to the brim and he has no shame in finger fucking it inside you when it tries to leak out.

when he’s done, he places a soft kiss on your forehead before getting up off the bed, reaching for his boxers and sliding them back on. “i’ll be right back, just gotta clean you up, ok?” he leaves the room, but he returns within two minutes with a towel, a t-shirt and two water bottles for you both.

frank’s careful as he cleans you up, knowing that you’re still sensitive. in his left hand is where the towel that cleans you with, but his right is rubbing soft circles into your thigh to reassure you. when he’s done, he helps you sit up, placing the t-shirt over your body and opening the water bottle for you, holding it up for you to drink from. you tap his wrist lightly to let him know you’re done.

“you ok, sweetheart? need anything else?” he asks, sliding into bed next to you with his arm out, to which you take that as your invitation to slide in next to him. you cuddle into his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you.

“i’m ok, frankie.” you whisper.

you hear him take a deep breath in. “i had to figure out my feelings for you. it was never just a way to shut you up, even if you don’t know when to stop talking sometimes.” he chuckles. “i love you, you know that?”

“i know.” you smile up at him. “but was dragging me out of the club really necessary?”

“don’t make me shut you up again.”

“isn’t much of a threat if i like when you kiss me.” you giggle as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “now, how about we order pizza and watch a movie?”

frank smiles down at you. “perfect.”

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@theeblackmedusa

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher

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