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#the EYEBROWS the STANCE EVERYTHING
"leo and donnie look too different to be twins" oh really? try to tell which is which on this picture then
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rileyslibrary · 7 months
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A/N: *leans into the microphone* anybody ordered some non-verbal taunting communication, courtesy of the lieutenant?
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You have all gathered in the tent for a quick briefing by the captain. Today’s drill is supposed to begin before dawn, and without the sun to keep you warm, the breeze shamelessly seeps through the tent’s openings. You sit around the table with the rest of the team and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to focus on Price’s orders.
Ghost stands next to the captain, examining each team member from across the table. He stands with his legs spread, holding his hands behind his back. His eyes move slowly, taking in every expression, every posture, and every movement.
You scan him from his head down to his waist. He’s in full gear all the damn time; mask, scarf, uniform, jacket, tactical vest. Sometimes, you wonder if he sleeps with everything on so that he can be ready to go. Perhaps he hangs his clothes on a chair the night before and puts them on one by one in the morning. If that’s the case, it must take him forever to get ready. You wonder if it’s the layering that makes him look so big or if he’s naturally built that way.
You try to suppress the image of your lieutenant naked and redirect your attention to the captain’s briefing. You look at Price, who is pointing at something on the map, and notice Ghost staring at you from the corner of your eye. His eyes move slowly, from your face down to your arms, and he narrows his eyes at the sight. He unclasps his hands from behind his back, brings them to the front and wraps them around himself, mimicking your stance. He looks back up at you, tilts his head and raises one of his eyebrows.
You immediately drop your arms to your sides and mouth an apology at him. He shakes his head at you and returns to his original position with his hands behind his back. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they are already fixed on the person sitting next to you.
Price continues the briefing, and you try to absorb the information while battling the chill that creeps through your uniform. You struggle to keep your arms to your sides but, your efforts go in vain since you shiver whenever the wind blows in the tent.
The lieutenant, on the other hand, doesn’t let you off that easy. He picks up on every move you make like a fucking sensor. Your shoulders hunch forward, and he throws quick glimpses at you, signalling you to sit up straight. Sometimes, you place your hands in your pockets, and he widens his eyes at the sight, forcing you to put them back on the table. You absentmindedly slip your hands under your thighs one last time, and you see him taking a few steps back and beginning to walk around the table.
You stiffen up. As if the cold morning breeze wasn’t persecuting enough, now you have another—much worse—threat to fear. You follow Ghost with your peripheral vision while trying to focus on Price, but he disappears behind you.
You hear him fiddling with something—the soldiers across from you throw peeks above your head and then at each other. You try to pick up on their expressions. Unfortunately, you aren’t as good at decoding faces as he is.
There’s a hand brushing your chair, tucking something on its backrest. The same gloved hand nudges your shoulder once and points at the back.
You look over your shoulder.
It’s a cloth. You turn your upper body and take a closer look.
It’s a scarf; his scarf.
You turn to look at him, and he gestures for you to drape it over your shoulders as he walks back to the captain. You obey and lift it from the chair. It’s still warm to the touch. You throw it on your shoulders and wrap it tighter around yourself. His residual body heat is still trapped in the garment. It feels like a hug, and you fight the urge to bury your nose in and smell it. You forget the morning breeze, the upcoming drill, and his non-verbal taunting.
Because the morning breeze was there yesterday, and it will be here tomorrow. It is you who pitched a tent in its path.
Because the upcoming drill will eventually end, and you will get to rest. You just need to endure it first.
Because it wasn’t taunting on his part; it was his way of showing concern. And a teeny tiny bit of care.
You turn around and see Ghost taking back his position next to the captain. He doesn’t look at you again for the rest of the briefing. You wish he would. His scarf looks great on you.
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reacting to their s/o being pregnant I Corazon, Doflamingo, Law, Smoker, Sabo, Ace, Kid
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Corazon, the gentle and caring soul he is, would notice subtle changes in your behavior and appearance before you even realized you're pregnant.
He'd probably start by making your favorite meal or fetching things you might need without even asking. Not because he knows exactly what's going on, but because his maternal instincts are subconsciously strong.
One day, he returned from work to find you asleep in his feather coat, nestled on your shared bed with a positive pregnancy test on the sideboard. Shocked, he slipped, inadvertently waking you up. As you opened your eyes, you saw the tall giant on his buttocks in front of the bed, all teary-eyed.
He'd approach you with a sweet smile and a gentle touch, hugging you in a warm embrace and assuring you that he's there for you no matter what.
"Mi amor, you've given me the greatest gift of all. I promise to be by your side every step of this journey, just as you've been by mine."
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Doflamingo's reaction might be a bit unexpected. He's not known for his compassion, but the news would still surprise him since he's always keen on protection.
He'd likely raise an eyebrow and give a smirk at the news, questioning you with his signature teasing tone, "Well, well, how unexpected. Don't tell me you forgot your pill on purpose."
Despite his initial demeanor, he'd keep a close eye on you, ensuring your comfort and well-being, even if he doesn't openly express it. Despite trusting Diamante and Trebol with his life, he would keep them at an arm's length away from you.
His soft side might manifest through subtle actions like providing comfort during late-night cravings, secretly getting things you wish for, or wrapping you in his pink feather coat.
"Well, well, well, it seems life has thrown us an interesting curveball. Don't think I'm going soft now, but I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to the future ruler of Dressrosa."
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Law, with his cool and collected exterior, might take a moment to process the news before his emotions catch up. He had already guessed what was up from your antsy behavior and Bepo telling him about your frequent late-night kitchen visits, but reality hit differently.
He'd likely pause, his gaze softening as he looks at you nervously biting your lip, almost certain he would react with disdain. Instead, a small, genuine smile would grace his lips, before he placed his hat on your head and embraced you in a warm hug, reassuring you of his stance.
Not much phased by obstetrics, he would start researching everything about pregnancy and childbirth, wanting to be as informed as possible to support you. Naturally, he would deliver the baby himself, his Room providing a secure and painless environment for you. He's too protective to let anyone else handle it.
While he might not show it outwardly, he'd be incredibly protective and make sure your needs are met, especially health-wise. Regular check-ups are a must, and if Shachi and Penguin annoy you, they can be sure to experience some rearranged limbs.
"You're amazing, you know that? I'm not sure I'm quite fit to be a father, but if we're going to navigate this together, I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you and the baby are safe and healthy. We've got this."
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Smoker would show a mix of surprise and concern upon hearing the news, his gruff exterior cracking just a bit.
He´d ask questions related to your health, ensuring that you're taking proper care of yourselves. He'd be on high alert, especially since he tends to smoke heavily.
As time goes on, he'd soften around the edges, finding himself more attentive and willing to offer help and assistance, even quitting smoking around you.
He might not express his emotions openly, but his actions would speak volumes, like quietly making sure you don't overexert yourselves or subtly rearranging your environment for safety.
"I never planned for something like this, but just know I've got your back. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."
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Sabo's reaction would likely be a mix of joy and a hint of nervousness, as he'd want to ensure the best for you and the baby.
He'd start leaving cute notes or small gifts for you, showing his excitement in his own sweet way.
Sabo would take on the role of an unofficial cheerleader, always ready to provide you encouragement and reassurance.
He'd also engage in deep conversations with you about your future as parents and what you envision for your family. Luffy, Ace, and Koala would often visit and assist you with whatever you need.
"I can't even express how happy and blessed I feel right now. You and our baby mean everything to me. Let's face this adventure together, with all the love and support we need."
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Ace would be the embodiment of enthusiasm and excitement, immediately hugging you and spinning you around in a joyful embrace.
He'd become even more attentive than usual, constantly checking in on you and asking if you need anything.
Given his troubled childhood and strained relationship with his own dad, he might face phases of doubt. However, if you have his back as much as he does during his enthusiastic phases, you'll quickly pull him out of it.
You can bet he'd be doing research on how to be the best dad, and he'd share interesting and quirky facts he found on the internet.
He'd proudly proclaim the news to Luffy, Ace, and Garp, and he'd be the one organizing a surprise baby shower with Marco's help.
"I still can't believe all of this. We're going to be parents! I promise to make our family life full of love and appreciation. Just trust me on this."
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Kid's reaction might be a mix of surprise and a bit of concern about how this new development might affect his life plans.
However, as time goes on, he'd find himself growing more attached to the idea of becoming a parent.
He'd be the one to plan practical things like ensuring the home is baby-proofed and preparing for the baby's arrival in a pragmatic way.
Slowly, his tough exterior would soften, and he'd become more openly supportive and affectionate towards you, showing that he's fully invested in this new chapter of your lives.
"Honestly, I didn't see that coming, but I'm not one to shy away from challenges. We're in this together, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are safe. You can count on me."
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josephquinnswhore · 3 months
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Red Wine & Reparation
Pairing: joel miller x female reader
Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.
Word Count: 7k
Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??
Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.
You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”
The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.
“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.
“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”
His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”
He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”
“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.
But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.
“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”
Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.
In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”
“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.
You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.
Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”
Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”
Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”
“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”
“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”
You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”
“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.
You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”
The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.
“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.
“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”
A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”
Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.
“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.
“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.
His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.
“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”
“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.
It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.
“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”
Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..
Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.
He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”
“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.
“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”
“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.
“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”
You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”
“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..
“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.
He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”
“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”
His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”
You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.
He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”
He actually asked..
“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”
It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.
“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”
How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.
Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”
The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.
Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”
“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.
“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”
As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.
Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm
Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..
You. 10:47 pm
No sweat. What time were you thinking?
Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm
Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?
You. 10:52 pm
No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.
Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm
Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..
You. 10:53 pm
Great! See you then handsome. 😉
Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm
See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊
You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.
The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.
You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.
You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.
It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.
“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.
Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.
As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.
“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.
“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”
He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.
“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..
“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.
“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.
“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”
Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”
You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”
When you split..
Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”
You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”
“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”
The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”
He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”
The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.
Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”
“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”
Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”
You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”
“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”
Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.
“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.
“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”
“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.
“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”
Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”
“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”
You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”
With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”
“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.
He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.
You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.
Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”
With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”
He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.
As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.
You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.
“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.
You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.
His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.
“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”
Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.
You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”
“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”
You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”
“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”
His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”
He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”
Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.
“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.
Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”
His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”
“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”
“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.
Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”
Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”
He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”
His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.
He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.
You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”
He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”
Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.
“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”
The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.
You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”
“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.
The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”
He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”
“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.
Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”
You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”
“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”
Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”
He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”
You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”
Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”
You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.
The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.
Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.
But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..
His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.
“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”
When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.
He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..
His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.
Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.
His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”
Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”
He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.
“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.
Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.
Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.
Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.
“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.
You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.
“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.
“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.
He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.
You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..
You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?
With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.
Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.
He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.
Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..
Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.
“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.
“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.
He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.
You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.
“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.
“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”
After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.
“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.
He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”
Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.
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cute-sucker · 13 days
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now you knew that rafe was trouble, that wasn't the issue.
 yet you liked the way he always seemed to know what you wanted. the bag you had been looking at for ages? yours. the cute puppy you always had wanted? yours. did you want that small top in every colour of the shade of pink? yours. 
you liked the way he treated you. as if you were his little bunny, and you acted the part, coming to his office for his lunch, his heavy hand on your mini-skirt, and his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. you would beam at him, and he would smile smugly at you. people would sometimes look over to see you, a cute girl in his domineering stance.  
this was the dream life. he got what he wanted, a nice life with a nice girl. you were wife material, no you were dream girl material. you didn't care that he was a bit mean, or that he would get in your face sometimes. no, he was your dream man. 
after all, everything that he did was for you. the last time you had gotten in trouble with him, which ended up in a scuffle at a bar when a guy looked at you for too long. rafe hadn't asked you to change your outfits - some guys would have, after all, you were wearing a skimpy dress that bunched up at your thighs, and boosted your chest - no, rafe had simply told him to fuck off and to get some manners.
then he had told you to go to the car so he would deal with it. he had come back with blood splattered on his white shirt and a bruised hand. you had felt so bad for him, slowly reaching to hold his hand. sometimes he would brush you off at times like this, but instead, he let out a harsh breath, and let you hold his hand. 
when the two of you reached your house, he had parked the truck to a stop, his steely blue eyes searching yours. his hands cupped your chin, and you felt your heart skip a beat, as you desperately gazed into his eyes "y'know 'm doing this for you? being proactive. being your man. it's what you deserve," 
that had scared you, but you willed yourself to be stronger and nodded eagerly. it was what you deserved. 
as a kook, a trust fund baby, you knew you were going to get handed off to some man, some ravenous man that would take your body as your worth. when your father had told you that rafe cameron was going to be that fine man- you had cried for weeks on end before your blind date. 
your friends had told you he was a hottie, sure but one with a cruel facade. he blew past girls like a chain-smoker would to a pack of cigs. he had that frat boy feeling, and he was older. not too old, but enough for you to feel like a kid compared him. and now here the two of you were, tethering on the line of being engaged and you were scared? sometimes you would stand by the edge of the country club's pool to watch him laugh and scour the area for girls. you would always hide before his eyes reached yours.
but now you couldn't reject him. 
so, you forgot about that time. blocked it out. instead, you decided to throw a party with your girls, stems of cherries in your mouth, and a sweet facade laid out for you. your girls were linda and marry anne. you were the hostess, handing out the drinks, and trying to make sure everyone was happy.
finally, when things calmed down, you found yourself lying by the pool while mary anne recounted her story with the pool boy. the sun felt nice on your skin, as you felt yourself relax. 
marry anne giggled, nails sparking in the light, her bikini top itty bitty as she shimmered closer, "i don't know what to think of him. he's so innocent. nothing like the men we have to cater to. i liked it." then she blushed, "what! stop, don't give me that look."  
linda bit the straw of her drink, and shook her head, "you know what, i don't think the men are a drag, i mean c'mon you know she," linda murmured out dainty finger point at you, "she's had her fair share of men. and now rafe! how nice," she swooned fixing her blond curls.  
it was here that the two of them traded a look. a look that was unwelcome.  
you felt your eyebrows furrow, as you wiggled out of your position, and gave both of them a confused look, "what about him?" 
suddenly things went dead silent, as linda let out a sharp giggle, almost uncomfortable. you felt the hairs on your arm stick up, "guys! what about him?" now you were demanding, as marry anne gave you a pointed look, as linda continued to shake out her hair. 
"okay. well i think he's kinda of a dick? like remember that shit he pulled on in new years?"
you shook your head, sighing, "i thought you guys got over that." 
"he got mad at you trying to kiss a guy for new years! he was practically having sex with that disgusting girl down by the bay." linda blurted out, eyes bugging out of her head. you found your arms wrapped around your waist, feeling defensive. 
"well, i was kinda promised to him? y'know. i shouldn't have tried to kiss that anyway," you murmured out softly. at this linda let out a laugh, to which marry anne silenced her. 
"listen honey, i think you should be careful. promised or not. you have freedoms, and rights as a girl," marry anne continued, with a raised eyebrow, "and me for one- i would not be able to handle a man like that-oh-"
a hand snaked behind ur shoulder, and you turned around to face the person a beam on your face. "hey!" you giggled out before realising rafe was there. he was wearing that white shirt that made you go crazy for him, and while you wondered why he was there; he had a strange look on his face.
"mary anne, linda, nice to see ya guys. taking care of my girl? i bet you are." rafe muttered, turning back to look at you. you were practically ready to jump into his arms, a clear pout on your face. it was almost as if he knew that you needed him. 
you sighed, and leaned into him, before whispering something into his ear. "don't wanna be here anymore." 
at this, you saw rafe's eyes flash with anger, before grinning that snarky smile you knew so well. all of a sudden you were straddled on his lap, like a little girl as you played with his rings. he was inspecting lina and mary anne with a look of predators. "so, what are you guys talking about?" 
linda quickly blurted out, "nothing! nothing at all. y'know what, i think anne and i should go. gotta an appointment at 5." mary anne looked close to rolling her eyes, but nodded before getting into more discussion. their smiles looked fake, as they gave you a quick wave, and ran as quick as their heels could take them.
you found yourself lying in rafe's lap, completely tired. he was brushing out the baby hairs out of your face, before softly dropping a kiss on your forehead. you exhaled, wiggling closer to him. he was never like this. so full of love to share. 
"gonna make you mine, all right?" he whispered in your ear, before nipping at your jaw, "gonna give you my kids, a house full of them, and some better friends, bun. you're the sweetest." 
and just like that any thought of leaving him was gone. 
550 notes · View notes
futureplayboibunnie · 9 months
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Aphrodesiacs Pt.6
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
i’m back i’m back i’m back!
NSFW 18+ as always
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It was the same old story, same old Miguel falling in the continuous spiral of something that he has long past an issue. The further this continued, it felt like another mistake living deep in chest. But he knew that this was objectively the right thing to do. Miguel blocked your number and broke his phone.
His stance remained firm and exhausted in same old boyishly endearing Miguel fashion, Peter B was standing next to him or something, saying whatever remark or sly jab at Miguel’s signature silent brooding. He wasn’t paying attention, words fell on deaf ears and he seemed even more disinterested in everything that was being uttered to him. It was like phasing out was a pitiful second instinct. All he seemed concentrated on was you, your tender sighs and sweet lips he could practically feel wet as you breathed over the phone. You were very brazen that night, it was surprising and refreshing in equal tandem. He would shut your vulgar mouth with his cock instead, he’d slap your cheeks raw with it and then slap his tip against your tongue until you’re begging him to just shove it in.
“Miguel? Buddy, you listening? Are you high or something?” Peter snapped his fingers in front of Miguel’s unappeased and unkind face to drag him away from something he never thought he would be: unfocused.
“Stop bothering me. I’m busy.” He huffed in response, his body language radiating stress. He was trying to occupy himself with working on some new tech but he couldn’t get that right either. If anything, Miguel needed to be bothered. Peter looked unimpressed and continued to be a pest warmly, in true Peter quips.
“Well it’s not my fault you’re acting all floozy and whistful into the horizon. When was the last time you even left here man?” Peter groans and grabs his cheeks like a mother would do to a small child, inspecting him gratuituously.
“Peter. Come on stop it.” Miguel grumbled lowly, not wantingto snap at him at the fullest terrifying extent he knew himself to be capable of. Peter squeezed his cheeks harder.
“You’re so damn pale…you’re like a vampire.” Peter chuckled at the inside joke that everyone actually believed that Miguel was a vampire ninja, he felt himself lighten up a little at that but he chose not to show it. Peter gasps in faux horror. “That beautiful warm golden honey glow is fading away with every second you’re here in your batcave.”
Miguel didn’t know what to say, the only time he’s ever left HQ is to go home and when he couldn’t sleep, which was always, he came back. Failing himself and everyone around him miserably. His mood strayed at the thought, but it was true. He wasn’t doing any good here, he wasn’t doing any good for you but he couldn’t tell Peter that. No one knew what was happening to him, only you, Jess and Lyla.
“Listen man, you need to get out of here. And it just so happens you know a guy who is throwing a cookout at their place back on their dimension. I.E: me.” Peter crossed his arms and looked terribly impressed with himself and Miguel just raised an eyebrow already tired of his neverending theatrics.
“No.” He said simply but firmly.
“Yes.”
“No.” He said more firmly this time.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Miguel snapped his gaze back at him, looking slightly agited but Peter wasn’t the only one with balls, he groaned out frustratedly at his candor.
“The Mysterio anomaly last week took 20 years off my already fantastic life and I need a break from it, so do you man. Plus my wife is way more unkind and insistent than me so she’ll be back to pull you by the ear so consider me a friendly warning.” Peter looked irked as he tapped his foot, waiting for a response that deserved a punch in the gut.
Miguel was in a state of bewildered shock, all he could let out was an eye twitch. He was so frustrated with you, with all of this that his nerve endings were on the outskirts of thoroughly cooked and fried with boundless anger. Every day his patience was stretching and every day was starting to feel like a losing battle but he had to keep reminding himself: it’s for the best, it’s for your own good. He absolutely deplored thinking it let alone repeating it but at this point he was too far gone to not give up now. All he needed was for you to stay away from him. God knows what you’d do to each other. Peter was right though, Miguel had the same routine: HQ, fail to sleep, HQ, avoid. Was it so wrong puncturing the rhythm of this soulless cycle? If he can’t be around you he might as well distract himself im more carefree ways, and he might not even get the opportunity ever again.
Miguel let out a short agitated huff and let out a pitiful yet stern “Fine.”
“I’m so convincing, it’s actually the only thing I have in my repertoire nowadays.” Peter beamed lightly, full of himself as always.
“Wait. I have one condition.” Miguel cut him off, his face mixing between frustration and anxiety.
“Okay?” Peter said hesitantly.
“Y/N can’t be there.” Miguel gaze was peneterating right through Peter, staring daggers into his face at the mere mention of your name. When he said your name he felt his mouth drawl back some drool, even saying your name had him salivating.
“What why?” Peter looked visibly confused at something so seemingly random. “I mean that’s gonna be quite difficult because her and my wife are actually the ones that are cooking for us sooo….No can do.”
Miguel looked like he got hit in the face with a brick, he was vacant and blank yet his eyes were slowly creasing, wincing at Peter for a split second and then groaning out in frustration, he almost sounded like a pained animal. God, this sweet torture.
“Lie to her. Make something up and get her to not go.” Miguel snarled poisonously, his true ferocity only showing just a fraction as it gleamed over twice in his eyes, Peter noticed it and decided not to press him further
“Okay.” Peter said hesitantly, attempting to sound cordial but he couldn't help but still be confused. This was all supposed to be for fun, he didn't want to randomly exclude people for no apparent reason. He couldn't argue with Miguel on it anyway, once his mind was set on something, Peter knew it was nearly impossible to knock it down.
-
Miguel's mouth went dry, his lips curled down into a crooked frown when he realized what he was about to walk into. Swimming was so pointless. Why the hell was he being coaxed into entertaining such petty things? He couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed or done something remotely fun, he used to think that working on new tech was 'fun', but now it was just a distraction to suck him out of the void of desperation. Avoiding it would be even more suspicious this time though, no one had properly seen much of him recently, and part of him wanted to see how everyone was doing. How everyone was doing without him. The thought shook him up. At least you won't be there to make him feel worse or lose any form of self-control. He was hoping it would be a breather from all this torment. It would go either one of two ways: fine or the absolute fucking worst. As always he would prepare for the worst.
Miguel arrived with a grimace he was trying to conceal, his weak smile when greeting Peter at the door was absolutely endearing and he hated it. He just had to remain calm for a few hours, show his face briefly, light conversation preferably about work and not leisure, he didn't need to grin he just had to bear it. Peter's house was in a quaint little suburb, Miguel threw his jacket in the bathroom and followed Peter when he led him to the back garden he was surprised to see that the pool was big and deep. Multiple Spideys were wilding out in it, having fun for once, not burdened by the consistent pressure to be a hero...like Miguel would put on them.
He frowned. And then his heart pulsated erratically.
Shit.
Of course.
Lord above save him.
Miguel's eyes scanned wildly around and then his gaze landed on you. His living breathing torment. You. Sprawled out on a sunbed, stomach down, kicking your feet as you drank in the golden sun, liquid rays pouring on every inch of your bikini-clad skin. God, it barely covered anything. Your back dipped and the curve of your ass was on full display. Miguel's face dropped into a mindless gawk, eyes wide and mouth agape, he swallowed when he saw what MJ was doing. She was rubbing your back down with sunscreen or tanning oil or whatever, he stood there looking like a complete idiot as he stared at you. You looked so blissed out, letting your eyes flutter as a lazy smile painted your face.
This was awful.
He was lying.
This was perfect. So damn perfect. A wet dream was written out in front of his eyes
His eyes then snapped to Peter, and an anxious yet irritated glare pierced right through him. “Why is she here?” Miguel gritted through clenched teeth. Peter just elbowed him playfully.
“Get your talons out of your ass and have fun man. Does it really matter? Wait did you...You and her-? Oh, you did that's why.” Peter chided, elbowing him in the bicep as if he uncovered the truth of ali of his schemes. “Hey man, I'm not judging you.”
Peter walked away chuckling and Miguel's gawk became even more apparent when you opened your eyes and they directly met his. When you saw him, you were sure you could've finished right then and there, eyes gleaming and wide and lips instinctively wetting. Why did he have to be so insanely hot? It's cruel and inhumane. He was wearing a grey compression shirt that fit him so damn tight and some black swimming shorts that made his thighs look beefy as fuck. You didn't even think he'd come, but obviously, Peter had to lure the snake away. You hadn't talked to him since you spoke on the phone and even then you promised you would go back to avoiding each other. He was just keeping that promise no matter how much it pained him. Especially in that tiny little bikini. The gaze you shared felt like it had been going on for hours, Miguel shook his head and grunted before turning his back to leave. This was a huge mistake. You looked so incredible it was making him lose it.
“Oh, it looks like Miguel got here.” MJ teased but you didn't even care enough to listen, you panted heavily and loosened out of her hold and rolled onto the floor and scrambled yourself up and practically rushed inside.
Pathetic and desperate didn't even begin to cover it at this point.
Miguel went into the bathroom to get his jacket, mumbling with a stern look on his face, that little v forming in between his eyebrows whenever he furrowed his brows. He quickly glanced in the mirror and took a minute to contemplate his purpose, he was sweating and the hair on his body stood to attention, it was the moment before being struck by lightning but a thousand times worse. He raked his hands through his hair, rubbed his eyes, and went to leave. When he opened them you were at the doorway. Getting closer to him. And then you closed the door behind you and leaned on it. Miguel just took and deep breath and sighed once your scorching gazes connected again. You could feel your bones going limp as he practically stared a hole into your face
He could see every dip and curve of your body, the thin fabric of your bikini covered so little but he already knew what was under it. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it. You had this confused aloof look on your face, a pretty pink stain on your lips and cheeks, eyes sparking with a sincere desperation that you couldn't hide when you were this close.
“Thanks for getting rid of the restriction on my watch, that was very philanthropic of you.” Your lips curved into a jagged scowl as you quipped sarcastically, and you crossed your arms like you were in a huff but Miguel wasn't thinking clearly.
“Thought we said we go back to avoiding each other.” Miguel raised an eyebrow at you. You were shining under the dim bathroom lights, the tanning oil that MJ put on you causing your skin to gleam and shimmer, your scent and skin were driving him crazy but he had to hold it together. It was all he had left.
You paused, taking yourself off the door and taking a few small steps closer to him.
“You know as much as I do that I wouldn't have been able to do that.” You whisper, blinking up at him.
“Don't give me that look.” Miguel averted his gaze elsewhere to the pale walls of the bathroom but like a magnet, his eyes always drew back to you. He was staring at your lips. Sweet yet cunning. Mesmerisingly calculating.
“Does it make me a bad person that I want to see you break?” You smiled slyly at him, half joking half not.
“Today's not that day.” He smirked, almost teasing you. It was like a second instinct, to butter you up and then leave you on edge. Miguel brushed passed you and you scoffed at his reply.
“Ouch.” You giggled dryly. “Fine. Let's manage then.” You rolled your eyes and he just let out a neutral 'hmm."
Miguel's hand went to the door handle and he tried to pry it open, not thinking anything of it initially but the handle wouldn't budge. He cocked an eyebrow, confused at his lack of strength. Then he tried again. It still wouldn't move.
“Ugh, what's taking so long? Open the door.” You groaned before turning around to see that he physically couldn't open the door. It was stuck.
"No. No. This can't be happening.” He mumbled with a strain under his breath, his eyes shot open and a confused look washed over his face, then it turned to anger. White hot anger.
“Move.” You grunted and then elbowed him to the side, the small brush of skin was enough to send sparks alighting under both of you. Ignoring it as per usual, you pulled on the handle, your grip tightened and even with all vour might it still wouldn't fucking open.
"Oh my fucking God.” Miguel buried his head in his hands and paced around as you continued to try and pry the door open, groaning and failing miserably.
“We're stuck in here.”
-
IM BACK FROM VACAY MORE CHAPTERS V SOON!
-
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fetusgooseandjuice · 12 days
Text
Forever
Pairings: Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader
Summary: How Natasha proposed to you.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: None— just fluff!
Author’s Note: This is a mini-oneshot to my fic “Soulmates”. I’d recommend reading that one before this for context to be able to grasp the storyline!
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"What is it that you wanted to talk to us about, Natasha?" your father asked as he looked at the redhead from across the table.
The knight had requested a meeting with your parents, though it wasn't about the kingdoms royal guard as you were told.
It was about you.
Natasha didn't want to lie, but she needed to come up with an excuse to not raise any suspicions from you. And a meeting with the King and Queen about the royal guard seemed perfect.
"I actually wanted to speak to you about Y/n." the knight said.
Your parents eyebrows raised at that. "What’s going on? Is everything okay?" your mother said.
"Oh everything's fine. Perfect actually." Natasha was quick to reassure them. "I just had a thought and I wanted to run it by both of you before I go through with it."
They nodded their heads and Natasha took it as her go-ahead to continue.
"I want to ask Y/n to marry me, and I wanted your permission to do so." she said.
It was silent for a few moments before the biggest grins pulled at their lips.
"Of course you have our permission, Natasha. Did you think we'd say no after all these years?" your mother laughed and stood from her seat to pull your girlfriend in for a hug.
Natasha smiled happily, "I was counting on you saying yes, but if I was going to do this I wanted to do it right."
Your father stood up and made his way over to the redhead to give her a quick hug as well, "We appreciate it, Natasha, but we knew you'd end up tying the knot sooner or later and we love you so of course it's okay."
"Did you need help with anything? We're happy to help with whatever you need." your mother said.
The redhead already had an idea in mind for a while, so she was hoping you'd like it.
“I was thinking…”
~ ~ ~
"Nat, where are you taking me?" you giggled.
You took cautious steps as Natasha walked behind you with her hands covering your eyes, carefully guiding you to some unknown location while also making sure the path ahead of you was safe.
"Hold on, we're almost there." she chuckled at your impatience.
This was second time you had asked that to the knight even though she said it was a secret the first time the question left your mouth.
It was a quiet night in the castle before Natasha came to you. Both of your families had gone to bed, and most of the staff had already clocked out for the exception of a few guards who were taking their positions for the night shift.
You were winding down in bed, catching up on some reading you'd been too busy to do during the day when the redhead peeked her head into your bedroom to make sure you were still awake.
To her excitement you were, so she took the book out of your hands and made sure to bookmark your place. Ignoring the complaints from you Natasha took your hands into hers and dragged you from the comfort of your shared bed to lead you outside.
Which brings you to now.
Blindly walking down a path with Natasha to direct you. You'd tripped over your own feet twice, but of course your girlfriend caught you before any real damage could happen.
"Okay we're here. Are you ready?" Natasha asked as she stopped you both in your tracks.
Her question made you laugh, "Well you did bring me out here against my will, so do I really have a choice?"
"Nope" she said simply before taking her hands away from your eyes and fixing her stance behind you so she could watch your face.
You had to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust, but when they finally focused your face softened at the sight. You now knew that you were in the castle gardens, but in front of you was a picnic the redheaded knight had set up for the two of you.
There was a blanket on the ground with lanterns and candles scattered around for warm lighting. There were multiple baskets of food sat on top along with a bottle of what you assumed to be wine.
The amazed look on your face was enough for the knight to feel proud of herself.
"What all of this?" you smiled and turned your head to look at her only for that same smile to be mirrored on her face too.
"It's for you, my love."
"What for? Is there something happening today? What did I forget—"
"Relax, princess." Natasha chuckled and stepped in front of you so you could now be face to face. "You didn't forget anything. I just thought we could spend a little time together. You know, just me and you. Away from everyone else."
In that moment you didn't know what you did to deserve the redhead, you were speechless. But as you pondered about it for a second you came to the conclusion that you just didn't deserve her.
"I love you," you whispered.
If Natasha wasn't standing as close to you as she was she wouldn't of heard you. But your words brought a soft smile to the knights face as she looked at you.
She ran a hand over your hair to smooth down the fly aways and leaned in to press her lips to your forehead.
"I love you more," she said, "Now let's get to the food before the bugs beat us there."
You giggled as her hand found its place in yours and the redheaded led you over to the blanket where you both sat down. When you began looking through the baskets to see the options Natasha must've noticed the impressed look on your face that had formed.
"I asked your mom to show me how to make some of your favorites because I know I'm not the best cook, so I hope it tastes alright."
The food tasted amazing, but you didn't expect anything less from your girlfriend to begin with. The two of you talked about everything as you enjoyed each other’s company.
You’d finished the food, took a walk around the garden, and Natasha had spun you in a dance that probably would have looked silly to anyone else because of the way you were both laughing.
By the time you two sat back down and started to get comfy on the blanket it was probably well past midnight.
And you didn’t mind one bit.
The stars were out twinkling and the crickets were chirping, but time always seemed to fly whenever you were with the redhead.
“It’s so quiet out here,” you sighed as you laid your head on the knights shoulder and curled up to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out here this late at night before, but I like it.”
“I knew you would.” Natasha put her arm around you and pecked the side of your head, “I know things have been busy recently and you’ve been stressed with all the kingdoms nobles practically breathing down your neck, so I thought some alone time would be good for us.”
You smiled at her and lifted your head to kiss her cheek, “Thank you, Nat. You’ve had a lot on your plate too lately so thank you for doing this.”
“You don’t have to thank me, princess. You know I’d do anything for you.” she said and you leaned in press your lips in a soft kiss. “But I wasn’t a hundred percent honest with my reason for bringing you all the way out here.”
You tilted your head with a slight furrow between my eyebrows, “What do you mean?”
“Yelena always teased me for the crush I had on you when we were younger. My mom called us soulmates when she thought I wasn’t listening and I didn’t understand it at the time, but now I do.” Natasha said, and her voice was so soft the sound made your heart melt.
“There’s nothing about you that I don’t absolutely adore. The way you look out for the people you love. The way you always know what to say to make me feel better. The way you put everyone else’s needs before your own, so much that you forget to take care of yourself too.” she chuckled and it made you giggle.
“But that’s what I’m here for. To take care of you when you forget to. Whenever you need a break from your stresses I’ll sneak you away like how I did tonight because it’s least you deserve.” The redhead’s hand reached to cup the side of your face.
You let yourself lean into her touch as she brushed your hair behind your ear and her thumb stroked your cheek. She was turning you to putty in the palm of her hand, leaving you speechless at her words.
“Oh, Nat. I don’t know what to say, you’re gonna make me cry.” you chuckled and blinked away the tears that were forming as she just gazed at you.
Even when you were on the verge of tears Natasha still thought you were the most beautiful person to exist.
“You don’t have to say anything, my love, because I’m not done yet.” she said and you nodded for her to continue. “We’ve known eachother our entire lives and I know there was never a time where I didn’t love you, even when we were just little kids who didn’t know what it meant.”
The knight untangled herself from your arms to reach into her pocket, “I loved you then, I love you now, and this is my promise that I’ll love you forever.”
You watched as Natasha shifted to kneel on one knee in front of you as she pulled out a tiny black box. When she opened it, a delicate gold band with a shining gemstone placed sophisticatedly on top was revealed.
“So please say that you’ll spend the rest of forever with me, but as my wife. Will you marry me, Y/n?”
At this point, the tears that had been building up in your eyes since the redhead started talking were now falling freely down your cheeks. Natasha wasn’t doing any better, though. You could see her eyes watering as they took on a glossy appearance.
A vigorous nod of your head was all you could give at first with the way you were crying, “Yes,” you barely got out as your voice broke, “Yes of course I’ll marry you, Natasha.”
The wind was knocked out of the knights lungs and she almost lost her balance when you lunged forward to hug her close to you. She returned the embrace once she regained her footing, finally letting the few tears escape her eyes.
When you pulled back you connected your lips and kissed her as if it was the first time all over again. It caught Natasha off guard, but she wasted no time in reciprocating.
You separated when air became a necessity, the only sound heard was the heavy breathing as you tried to catch your breath. Your foreheads rested against each others and you both broke out into a fit of laughter at the pure happiness you felt.
Natasha was the first speak up, “You didn’t even let me put the ring on you.” she chuckled.
“Oh, Nat,” your hand came up to tuck a few of her stray red hairs away so you could see her face clearly, “The ring is beautiful, but I didn’t need one to agree to marry you. I would’ve said yes even if you had nothing because all I want is you.”
She kissed your lips again before taking the tiny piece of jewelry out of the box, “I know, but you at least deserve to have a ring on that finger of yours so let me put it where it belongs.”
The redhead took your left hand into hers and slid the ring into your finger, “There, now you’re stuck with me for forever.”
“Happily,” you said and you both laughed, taking a moment to admire it.
Of course Natasha had it sized perfectly.
“Oh, and I almost forgot I found this in the garden during our walk,” you watched the knight reach into her pocket before holding out the contents in front of you.
It was a flower. A yellow flower to be more specific.
One that was nearly identical to the yellow flower Natasha had picked when you were younger
She reached up and delicately placed it in your hair, “When I first proposed to you with this flower in these gardens, I think I understood what I was doing even though we were just kids.”
Grinning, you began leaning closer to the redhead, “And I’m pretty sure I understood what I was doing when I said yes.” you connected your lips once your noses were touching and wrapped your arms around her shoulders to keep her close.
You both knew you’d have to eventually go inside and deal with the responsibilities of tomorrow, but that all could wait.
For now, everything was perfect, and you were the happiest you’d ever been.
~ end ~
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badgyalshii · 2 months
Text
ITS NEVER OVER
Paul Atreides x Reader (always safe for POCS + Plus size)
1.1k word count i believe?
warnings! spoliers. light fluff. idk if i put language in here,
A/N: i love sad fics n this is my first fic in a longgggg time, i had to crack my knuckles and pop my back a few times for this one, but i hope yall read and enjoy and im so down to write a part two if yall want it or if i feel like it, i basically used to be the cory of tumblr (disappearing for like a month like nun happened😒) have a goodnight, besos😘
about?: immediately after paul offers to take the princess as his wife, your eyebrows furrow in confusion
Access part II here. I . II . III . IV .
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Have you gotten stabbed in the chest? Or in the back. You couldn't tell, but you thickly swallowed. Hiding your tears and trying to focus on the fight between Paul and the unknown bald man, named feyd, but you couldn't even focus. Your mouth hung as tears brimmed your eyes, no one was focused on you and you were sure of it, thankfully.
You felt a hand cling onto your elbow giving a light squeeze before you heard a whisper in your ear. “Don't cry. It is only for the current circumstance. He doesn't love her” chani whispered, trying to seem not suspicious as she stood next to you. You looked down in return, a tear dropped. You looked up, and then you looked at paul. He betrayed you. He'd say he'd love you as long as he'd breathe, but where is he now? You had a bad poker face. Everyone knew it, but this was such a heated situation, nobody had time for the crying games. Paul looked at you, it was clear he felt for you, but he had to stay firm, stern.
Chani gave you one more squeeze before letting you loose and watching the fight. The man you loved. The man you took you away from reality to across the universe within one touch from under the sheets. The one who made your heart one, the one you'd share so many memories with. Are they lost now? How could he let you go so easily?
“My heart yearns, y/n” he whispered, the shared couple naked inbetween the sheets and the thin cotton of a blanket. You said nothing but looked him in the eye, drinking him in as his lagoon blue eyes pierced through your own. “We can't both be sensitive, Muad'Dib, you are the chosen. Legends say so '' you whispered against his soft lips as he touched your back softly rubbing over it. “What if it's not what I want?” “does it matter? You've made it so far.” you switch from each of his eyes and put your hands in his hair, soothing him assuringly.
He rubbed his nose against yours, “what if i lose you?” he muttered, breaking eye contact. “As long as we have love, nothing can be lost, paul '' you whispered. Such a desperate moment. Everything was so transparent. You lifted yourself and Paul sighed. “I love you” he said, aloud. “I love you more, so much more”
Did he? Did he mean it, at least. You were so desperate for an answer, but the sound of a stab pierced through your flashback, your breath quickened as fear slapped on your face ever so suddenly. Your chest heaved heavily as you watched, chani pinched you. You tried to maintain your strength as you watched Paul on the floor.
“This your pet?” feyd asked, pointing the dagger at you. Paul looked at you with no emotion. What was going through his head? You didn't know, but even more fear rushed over you as feyd continued closer, a sly smirk played on his face. He could tell that you were something important considering the dried tear across your cheek. “Your pet any important to you?” he still questioned, but paul remained silent. Only got up to continue the fight. You couldn't help but feel eyes on you, and you looked up from the fight to see Paul's new bride staring you down, a questioning look upon her face as she eyed you up and down.
The battle ended, and Paul won. You watched as everyone else bowed before you but you stood standing. Paul looked back at you, before turning away. Chani looked at you from her bowed stance. You remained looking at Paul before your people stood and Paul told them to lead the holy war. The only ones who remained in the room were you, Paul, the emperor, and the princess. “I will be back, stay” he demanded, he didn't use his voice as a command, but he looked back at you, and you were gone, he searched for you as he left the room, only to find you crying and against a wall, hand over your face to hide your tears.
“My love” Paul whispered, quickly pacing and lowered by your side. You only weeped in return, you couldn't even look at him. “y/n” he held onto you. “What have you done? Have I not given my all to you? Must you not love me?” you said through broken cries. “y/n, i love you, i will always for as long as i breathe. This is just protocol-”
“It wasn't necessary, I watched. I've watched you, standing behind you. Who are you? Paul?” you looked up at him. Your face said it all, the tears strolling down your cheeks. His hand remained on your arm and his other hand placed on your cheek. Wiping a tear. “We can't both be sensitive, I am chosen” Paul recites, using your own words against you. You looked at him in disbelief. “Paul” you sniffled, he pressed his bloody forehead against yours and placed both of his hands on the sides of your face, “i love you” you whined, fighting tears and fighting the cry that wanted to leave your lips. “I know, I know, I love you and I will come back for you, will you stay? Must you stay, wait for-”
“Wait for you?” you scoff, choking on your sob. “Are you insane? Wait for you, watch you marry a woman you don't even know, who doesn't even know you. All those times we've pillow talked, stripped naked and not only physically but emotionally. You confessed, paul, you did” you looked at him through your eyelashes. He had nothing to say, his lips remained parted, searching for a way to bring you such needed comfort, but he couldn't. He couldn't support you the way you needed to be, not anymore at least. “no tears? do you feel nothing paul?! i've loved you since the moment i saw you, i told everyone to trust you, give you respect, this is a smack in the face. thank you for wasting my time”
You stood and left Paul where he sat. “You know where I am. I won't be anywhere else. You come to me when you forgive me and when you're ready to talk. I'll love you for a million years, with you by my side or not, I have you in my heart. I place a piece of my heart in your chest too. Must you not deny me, I love our pillow talks, our soften kisses. The way your hair feels between my fingers. I will be here, I will” he finishes, as he watches you walk off. He slowly stood as he watched you look at him before you turned the corner. Not saying a word, but a silent goodbye. as you walked, you could hear a slam against the wall and a curse from pauls lips, but you must go, chani taught you better.
What he said was beautiful. You couldn't deny, but the betrayal stood close in your vision. You met with chani and she pulled you in for a long hug. “It's okay to feel how you feel, but for now, we have places to go” she placed a hand over your heart ¨strong heart, strong mind¨ she spoke in language and placed her pointer finger on your forehead where pauls blood lied. You only nodded and she led the way to the new path of life.
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lovelybucky1 · 9 months
Text
Dirty Money- Tommy Shelby x Reader
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masterlist
warnings: very mild dub-con, guns, canon-typical violence, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, degradation, clothed sex, office sex, semi-public sex, name-calling, unprotected sex, mentions of prostitution, rough sex
The chatter from the party room (if this occasion could even be called a party) lessened as you made your way down the halls of the Shelby house. The Peaky Blinders were having a celebration- another shady business practice gone in their favor, earning them a large sum of money. You are just a pretty face to the Blinders. You get in close with the arrogant, sleazy men who the Shelbys often have dealings with, get information, and maybe pickpocket occasionally, but that is the extent of your duties.
Your position means you don’t get any of the money they earn from deals; all they provide you is free drinks at the Garrison. The Blinders are just a stepping stone along your path. You knew they had money, and if you could get an in with them, then you could have access to some of that money. And really, who would notice if a small fraction of that money was taken?
Your dress flows at your feet as you creep down the hallway towards the boss’ study. When you reach the door, you press your ear to hear any voices; when you deem it safe, you twist the handle and push it open.
Thanking God the hinges don’t squeak, you shut it behind you and take in your surroundings. The room is dark, the light filtering through the windows from the street is barely enough to see by. You approach the solid oak desk that likely took the whole family to move into the office. Atop the desk are a few letters, a pen, a set of lamps, and a figurine of a horse. The rest of the office is similar; sparse with decoration, but bits of Thomas’ personality shine through.
You don’t know much about your boss, despite interacting with him frequently. You’ve been his date on various occasions, all with ulterior motives, of course. Even when he is acting vulnerable, you know it’s a farce. Everyone knows Tommy Shelby is all about business, and he never takes a day off.
You walk around to the other side of the desk and pull at the top drawer. Inside, only stationary, so you close it and try the second drawer, which is locked. You take a pin from your hair and bend it before inserting it into the keyhole. It’s been a while since you’ve picked a lock, but you eventually get it open without too much difficulty. When you open the drawer, you find two stacks of money sitting next to a gun and a pack of smokes.
You pick up one of the stacks and flip through it. Two stacks, each one thousand pounds. You’d be set for life with this amount of money. You could get out of this shit, smog-filled city, buy yourself a nice house in the countryside, a car. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and it was all in your hands at this very moment.
You were jolted from your fantasy about your future life by the lamp near the door clicking on. You whip around, money still in hand, to face the door. Illuminated by the golden light stood your personal grim reaper, the very man you were stealing from.
Tommy has his hands on his hips, eyebrow raised, and his weight leaned onto one leg. His stance screams what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Your stomach drops when you meet his piercing blue eyes, and a wave of fear washes over you. Tommy stares at you until the weight of his gaze makes you tremble, and only then does he speak.
“I’ve had many people try to get close to me for their own gain,” Tommy pauses just to make you sweat. “But none of them have ever been stupid enough to steal from me in my own home.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” you say as if there weren’t stacks of money in your hand.
Your voice cracks when you speak and you’d curse yourself for your lack of composure, but it’s hard to remain calm when you’ve just gotten on the bad side of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.
“No?” Tommy asks. “That’s a good thing then, because if you were stealin’ my money, then we’d have some problems.” Tommy stalks forward toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he crosses the room. He takes the money from your pliant fingers; you have enough sense of self-preservation to not put up a fight right now. He places the money back in the drawer and when you look down, you see his fingertips brush against the gun- a reminder. When you look back up, his face is inches from yours and he is looking down the bride of his nose at you like you’re nothing but a pathetic animal. “So why don’t you tell me what you’re doin’ in here, eh?”
You inhale shakily as you try to come up with a convincing lie. You figure that he will see through any of the bullshit you say, but it’s better than admitting your crime. “I lost my ring and I thought I might have left it in here.”
“You might have lost your ring… in my locked drawer?” He asks, tone suggesting he is simply humoring you.
“If you found it and thought it was valuable, I thought you would put it in a safe place,” you explain, trying your best to look innocent.
“I see,” Tommy says, putting his hand on the desk next to your hip and leaning on it. “Now, if you’re done lying, I’d like to hear the truth.”
You swallow thickly as you resign yourself to the fact that you were caught. “I was taking money from your desk.”
“I’m not fuckin’ blind, am I? What’s the money for?” Tommy asks, voice even and steady, though you know he must be simmering with anger.
“For me.”
“Two thousand pounds, all for you? You have no affiliations?” you shake your head. “You’re not working for anyone?”
“No, sir. I wanted all of this for myself,” you confess.
“Hm,” he considers your words. “I’m surprised you were able to put together this little plan, so I doubt you’d be able to pull off bein’ a double agent all this time.” The way he talks down to you makes you want to hide your face in shame, but in the position he has you in, you have nowhere to go. “What were you going to do with all this money?”
“Move out of the city. Find a place for myself. Start a new life. A good life,” you say. Your tone must have been sincere enough for Tommy to believe you because he seems to relax a little.
Tommy shifts on his feet and he looks distantly over your shoulder as if he is lost in thought. You stare at his face, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You wouldn’t be surprised if he killed you, he’s killed others for much less.
“So,” he starts, “You’re not working for anyone else, but you’re still a thief and a traitor.” His intense gaze is back on you and your skin crawls with anxiety. “I don’t think I have to remind you what we do to thieves and traitors.”
You shake your head, knowing full well the fate that all who have wronged the Blinders have met. They’re not deserving of a quick death; they beg until they are too swollen to beg, they pray until God has been beaten out of them, they break until there is nothing left whole, they bleed until they’re dry. A traitor to the family suffers. They’re a spectacle to keep all others in line.
“But that would be such a waste of a pretty face,” Tommy says, the unexpected compliment makes your heart stutter in your chest. “You always did do good work for me. The races, the parties I went to with you on my arm. Sometimes I wished they were for leisure rather than business.”
You furrow your brow slightly at the admission. “What do you mean, Mr. Shelby?”
“I quite fancied you,” he says with a slight smile. “But then I caught you in my study with my money, and I came to my senses.”
He stands up straight and reaches into the drawer, taking out the gun. You take a step back, frightened once again. He doesn’t point the gun at you, only holds it, but you are still no less threatened.
With a sigh, he speaks again. “I don’t trust you not to bring down the rest of us if I turn you in to the coppers. So because I held such a soft spot for you, I’ll let you pick. I could cut your hand off to make sure you won’t steal again, I can send you far away without a single penny to your name, or I could give you over to the Italians as a peace offering.”
Your stomach drops when he lists off your options. For some reason, you thought he was going to let you get away. But seemingly despite his soft spot, business comes first, as usual.
“Please, Mr. Shelby, there has to be something else,” you say, voice watery with held-back emotion.
“What kind of businessman would I be if I let my employees steal from me?” He asks eyebrow raised mockingly.
Feeling desperation cloud your mind, you take a step forward, despite the gun. You reach out and place your hand on his shoulder, the rough material of his suit jacket rubbing against your skin. He looks down at you, his face a mixture of shock and amusement.
“I will do anything, sir,” you say, voice vulnerable and weak, hoping that will appeal to his baser urges. You know it’s a bold and risky move, but you don’t have many other options.
A laugh escapes Tommy’s throat, a rare and usually pleasant sound when it’s not being directed at you. “Are you looking to add prostitution to your list of crimes?” he chuckles.
“No, sir. I am not a whore.”
“You’re offering yourself up to me like one,” he smirks. “Why don’t we make a deal, then?”
“What are the terms?” you ask, trying to add strength to your voice that you’ve lacked since you saw him in the doorway.
“You let me fuck you like the whore you claim not to be, and you get to keep your job with us,” he says casually like he’s talking about the weather.
“That’s it?”
“Well now, don’t sound so ungrateful. If you’d prefer, I could give you away to those animals out here,” he gestures towards the door. “I’m giving you a chance to keep that pretty smile of yours.”
“No, no,” you shake your head. “I am grateful, sir. Thank you.”
Tommy puts the gun down on the top of his desk and closes the space between you. His hard chest presses against yours as he brings his hand up to gently stroke your cheek.
“Greedy little thing,” he says, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. Your lips are parted just so, looking soft and pliant, just the way he loves. Tommy’s hand trails from your face down to your throat, where he plays with the simple goal pendant that rests against your skin.
Tommy leans in and brushes his lips to yours, making your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat. You can feel a slight smile on his lips before he presses them together in a claiming kiss. He smothers you, stealing the breath from your lungs.
When you part, his lips are pink and glistening with a mix of your saliva. His light eyes are blown with lust and you feel small in his arms.
“Are you clean or am I going to have to fuck your mouth?” he asks, the dirty words a sharp contrast to his gentle hands on you.
“I’m clean,” you say, voice no more than a whisper.
The only response you get from him is a shark-like grin. He grabs your hips and pulls you flush to him. Even through the layers of your dress, you can feel the hardness in his pants.
It’s almost hard to believe that right now, Thomas Shelby is hard for you. You’ve imagined this countless times; when you were his arm candy, when he’d drink with you at the pub, and even sometimes in your own home. You never thought you’d actually get to have him in such a way, especially not when it wasn’t for business.
“What are you waiting for, dear?” he asks, looking into your eyes and then down at his trousers.
You lean back, putting enough space between the two of you to undo his belt and unbutton his pants. You take out his cock and give it a few dry strokes. The size makes you nervous; you’re no virgin, but you’ve been so caught up with work that you haven’t been seeing anyone.
Tommy shrugs off his jacket and tosses it haphazardly onto his desk chair, clearly unconcerned that he is wrinkling a very expensive suit. Taking his undressing as a hint, you ask “Should I take off my dress?”
“It’s not our fucking wedding night,” he huffs. He grabs your waist and pushes you towards the desk, You brace your hands on the surface and look back at him while he hikes up the skirt of your dress. He piles the bunched-up fabric on your lower back and bends down to admire the view. “Though these knickers suggest otherwise,” he chuckles, slipping his finger under them.
It’s humiliating to be bent over your boss’ desk while he looks at you like you’re a piece of meat, As much as you wish you were more upstanding, that this whole situation repulsed you, the burn in your abdomen is undeniable. You’re getting off on whoring yourself out to your boss.
Tommy grabs the waist of your knickers and pulls them down, letting the white satin pool at your feet. Now bare to him, Tommy inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal. He swipes his thumb through your folds, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your thigh.
“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whimper.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like me teasing?” he chuckles.
He rubs his hand over your pussy, his cold fingertips burning from the heat of you. You wiggle your hips a bit, silently begging him for more, and in return, he gives a sharp slap to your cunt.
“You forget this is a punishment. I could leave you here desperately and wet for hours and there’s nothin’ you can do ‘bout it.”
You let your head hang between your shoulders with a sigh. You don’t doubt his threat; Tommy can be a cruel man and you wouldn’t put it past him to torture you in such a way. No matter what, though, this is better than the alternative.
You feel a long, thin finger prodding at your entrance and you force yourself to relax. Tommy slowly pushes his middle finger into you, and from behind you, a quiet groan can be heard. He pulls his finger out only to quickly replace it, along with a second digit. The fingers inside of you slowly work back and forth to loosen you. Despite Tommy’s rough exterior and degrading words, when it comes to the act, he’s more caring than you anticipated.
The slow drag of his fingers makes you dizzy, desperate for more to fill you as you open up. Seemingly have read your mind, Tommy pulls out his fingers and places his wet hand on your ass.
For a long moment, nothing happens. Tommy stands behind you, both hands on you, but unmoving. You look back to see him watching you expectantly.
“Do you think I’m just going to give it to you?” he asks. You furrow your brow, not understanding what he’s getting at. “Clearly you’ve never been properly fucked,” he huffs. “Beg me for it.”
Of course, how could you be so stupid? A man like Tommy Shelby loves power and control. He wants to own everything and everyone, especially his conquests. You’ve already submitted yourself to him, but he wants you to relinquish the rest of your pride for him.
“Please, sir, I want it,” you try, the idea of begging for sex unfamiliar to you.
“Surely you could do better than that, eh? I’ve heard the things you’ve told our associates. I know your mouth is dirtier than your pretty white knickers let on.” The smirk is evident in his voice and it makes you burn with shame. The things you tell whatever man you were ordered to seduce were all acting. You separated yourself from it, from them, but now you were doing to be deep in it.
“Please fuck me like the whore I am, Mr. Shelby. I’m yours to do whatever you want with. I want you to forgive me.”
The words feel foreign on your tongue and Tommy seems to recognize that. The grin on his face tells you the begging was more for your embarrassment than his enjoyment.
“That’s better, my little whore,” he says as he grabs ahold of his cock and rubs it through your folds. He pushes in slowly but steadily, easing you into it but not hiding his desire until the head is inside. Like a gentleman, he lets you accommodate the stretch before seating himself fully inside of you.
You lay atop the desk limp and pliant, like you’re a toy for Tommy. He grabs your hips tightly, possessively, before he starts to rock his hips against you. The friction of your ass against his hips doesn’t do too much to satisfy your sexual need, but the feeling of his skin makes you burn from within.
“When you first joined,” Tommy speaks up, “I had to make a rule. Don’t fuck the other members. Never had that problem before, but I knew the boys would tear you apart the second they got the chance.”
Tommy’s fingers press into your skin as he begins to slowly thrust into you. As he did with his fingers, he makes the drag of his cock slow, ensuring you feel every inch of his length. Your pussy gripped him like your body knew you were made for him.
You let out a small, involuntary hum when he reaches the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You had fantasized that Tommy would be a good lover, but you never imagined that he’d light all of your nerves on fire.
“Fuck, Tommy,” you moan as his steady pace builds up the pressure in your abdomen.
“It’s Tommy now, eh? Where’d those manners go?”
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby.”
You’re certain Tommy is going to kill you, despite your deal after you disrespected him. Maybe he’d be merciful since you let him have you… or maybe that would make torturing you even better.
“Say it again,” he says, voice gruff with lust.
“What?”
“My name. Say it again.”
“Tommy,” you whisper, hesitant.
His blunt nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents behind. The speed of his hips increases slightly, but he doesn’t slam into you like some previous partners have. He seems to understand your body; to be rough in some ways but caring in others.
“If I punished every thief like this, I’d have far fewer enemies,” he muses as he slides his right hand up your back, then rests it on the base of your neck. “But you’re lucky.”
The hand on the back of your neck moves to the side of your head, where Tommy presses down. There’s not much force behind it, but your head is pinned to the desk. It’s degrading to have him hold you down, preventing you from seeing what’s to come. His fingers twist in your hair and his trusts become increasingly irregular.
“Tommy,” you whine.
“This cunt’s divine,” he says, and for the first time, his voice has an edge of desperation to it.
“Tommy,” you say again.
“What?” he breathes.
“Fuck me.”
With an airy chuckle, Tommy pulls you closer to him by the hips so you can meet each of his thrusts. Your body jolts each time his thighs slap against yours, completely at his mercy while he fucks into you. You feel him shift behind you and suddenly there is a weight resting on your back. Tommy is leaning over you, holding you impossibly close with his mouth next to your ear.
“You’re my fuckin’ whore,” he says, his hot breath and gravelly voice making your skin break out in goosebumps. “You understand me?”
All you can do is nod, but that answer seems to satisfy him because he is standing back up and fucking you sloppily, a stark contrast to his steady pace from earlier. After a handful of strokes, he pulls out and you’re left cold and gaping on the desk, brain lagging to catch up with reality.
You hear a strangled moan from behind you, and then you feel drops of scorching liquid hit your thighs. You squirm on the desk once you realize what has happened. Tommy Shelby has just come on you, effectively claiming you as his own.
He rests his hand on your back as he catches his breath, chest heaving with exertion. He steps back, out from between your legs, and wipes the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. You look back at him with lustful, half-lidded eyes and he gives you a soft smile. You push yourself up so you can stand, and when you turn to face Tommy again, he looks confused.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“We’re done, aren’t we?”
Tommy chuckles and steps forward again, picking your skirt back up and pushing the bunched fabric into your hands to hold.
“You poor thing,” he says. “You haven’t gotten yours.”
His words surprise you. You wouldn’t say Tommy is a selfish man; self-interested is a better term. You expected this to be over once he was finished, but it seems that equal satisfaction is of importance to him.
He reaches between your legs and slips two fingers into your cunt, then rests his thumb on your clit. You gasp when he touches your bud, which is extra sensitive from the lack of attention. Tommy’s other arm wraps around your waist to hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple.
“Tommy,” you whimper when he curls his fingers inside you.
“So fuckin’ good for me. Guess all it took was a cock to keep you in line. God knows I would’ve done this ages ago if I knew. Think about all the times I could’ve had this sweet cunt when I settled for some whore,” he says, voice thick and sweet. “But now you’re mine.”
His possessiveness, combined with the perfectly placed touches under your dress, makes your head spin with pleasure. You let your head drop forward to rest on his shoulder and he pushes his face into your hair. You reach up to grab at his vest, needing something to ground yourself, lest you collapse into a puddle of pleasure on the office floor.
“I-I’m close, sir,” you struggle to get out between moans.
“What do good girls say?” he asks.
“Please.”
“Cum for me, dear,” he whispers.
As if he pulled a trigger, your release washed over you. Your muscles tighten and relax as the waves of pleasure rock you. Tommy rides you through it, not giving up his assault on your soaked pussy until you are squirming and pushing his hand away.
You lean back to rest on the desk as you find your breath and let your skirt drop down to the floor, covering up the mix of cum that wets your thighs. You watch as Tommy straightens out his clothes and fastens his belt, feeling slightly disappointed that you didn’t get to see more of him.
He joins you by the desk, reaching into the formerly-locked drawer and taking out the pack of smokes, as well as a matchbook from his pocket. He lights the cigarette and tosses the burnt match into his ashtray. He holds it with the two fingers that were inside of you and takes a drag, exhaling a plume of white smoke that swirls in the air in front of you. Tommy offers the cigarette to you but you decline with a shake of your head, and he doesn’t press.
“Do you smell that?” Tommy asks, breaking the silence. You sniff the air, mainly smelling smoke but there is the underlying musk of sex, as well as the intoxicating scent that Tommy wears. “That’s business,” he says, answering his own question.
“What do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him.
“We had a deal. I fuck you and you get to stay here, all your limbs intact.” You nod slowly, not quite understanding what he’s getting at. “I’d like to offer you a promotion.”
You perk up at that. Not an hour ago you were certain Tommy was going to shoot you where you stood, but now he’s offering you a higher-ranking position within the Blinders.
“I want you to be my personal assistant,” he says, a slight smirk on his lips. “No dirty work, no men. It’s an easy job, making my breakfast and bringin’ me whiskey, sorting my mail, writing my letters. Making appointments for me, keeping track of my calendar, making small talk with incredibly dull people I can’t be bothered with.”
“So I’d be your maid?”
“If maids get the added benefit of fuckin’ their bosses, then yes, you’ll be my maid,” he grins. “And you know what the best part is?” You shake your head. “You don’t get to lay a finger on my money.”
You look away from him, embarrassed. Tommy grabs ahold of your chin and makes you look back at him, his blue eyes boring into you once again.
“You can live in my house, I’ll buy you fancy things or whatever the fuck you wanted to do with two thousand pounds, and the only thing you’ll have to worry about is cleanin’ the blood from my shirts.”
You pretend to think over his offer, but really, there’s no question. This is better than any life you could attempt to start on your own, and you have the added bonus of being in the boss’ favor.
“I accept your offer,” you say with a smile.
“Good. Now let’s get out of here before you find another thing to steal,” he says, placing his hand on your lower back and leading you towards the door.
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sm8th0p · 1 year
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date - simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader
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a/n: you have no idea how much I LOVE medic!reader so this is my spin on it 🕺🕺🕺 and like private but not secret relationship with simon holy shit I live for that shit
desc: poor guy unknowingly hitting on the lieutenant’s lovely wife
warnings: descriptions of wound/gash, slight foul language
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You were nose deep in your paperwork when the doors to your office opened, making you whip your head to look at the intrusion. You body relaxed at the sight of Ghost and Soap, casually walking to your desk. Tilting your head a bit, not noticing that either of them were injured so it confused you why they were visiting the medbay.
“Is everything alright?” You asked, looking up from your seated position to look at your behemoth of a husband. “Yeah. Jus’ wanted to see you.” He said softly, palms on the desk and slightly leaning over it. “And what’s Soap doing here?” You tilted your head to see the man behind the lieutenant, busy with his phone. Ghost crossed his arms and you could feel his annoyance radiating off his stance from the corner of your eye.
“Aye, doc.” Soap greeted you as he lifted his gaze from his phone. “I’m just tagging along, got some questions to ask L.t.”
“Should’ve asked during the damn briefing.” He said, tilted his head a bit to glare at the sergeant. You knew how much your husband hated it when people interrupt the times you guys were together, since the chance to spend time with just you were rare in the chaos that happened everyday in the base. Sometimes you were confused if he was annoyed or jealoused.
“I forgot, alright..” Soap pursed his lips and scooted away a bit, to give you and Ghost some privacy. Not a lot of people knew about your marriage with Ghost, but they know you were married by the beautiful ring on your ring finger. Only the task force knew and over time, they learned the silent queues to give the both of you some space and you were incredibly grateful for that.
Ghost placed his left palm on the table and leaned in slightly, eyes laser focused on your face. “What is it, Si?” Your tone was heavy with exhaustion as Ghost looked down at you, and you could see his eyebrows furrowed a bit under the balaclava he wore.
“Your shift ends in a bit, right?” He brought a hand to gently cup your jaw. You nodded. “I want to take you out for dinner. You need a break, love.” He said, voice hushed as he took in your tired eyes. There was a moment of silence as you lowered you gaze to the papers on your table, before looking back at him.
“Is Soap coming along too?” You teased, fighting a smile. “God no.” He replied right after the words left your mouth. You laughed before continuing, “It’s a date then.” A grin formed on your lips. “It is.” You felt his warm lips over the mask as he kissed your forehead, before joining Soap to sit in one of the empty patient rooms to wait for you. The door to the room was open, so you could hear a faint conversation and Soap’s laugh while you continued your paperwork.
Not five minutes later, the doors to the medbay opened again and a soldier walked in, clutching his hand. You looked up from the paperwork and your eyes widened slightly at the blood on his hands. “What happened?” You immediately stood up and walked over to him, guiding him to sit in an empty room right beside your husband’s.
“Accidentally cut my hand open while working in the garage. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You were sitting in front of him, his palm in your hands as you carefully inspect the gash. Your eyebrows furrowed at how calm and nonchalant his tone was, so you looked up from his palm to see he was slightly smiling at you.
“You look oddly happy for a person with a bloody hand.” You quipped before turning around, collecting a few items from the cabinet behind where you sat. The man looked down and laughed, and you could hear how- bashful it sounded. “I feel fine, doc. Like I said, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” He replied, and you can hear a hint of smug in his voice.
You playfully shook your head at him as you sat back down. The fact that he wasn’t brooding over the injury really calmed the tension, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit off. “Thankfully the cut wasn’t that deep, so you don’t need stitches. A few bandages will do.” He nodded, but you felt his gaze on you.
You shifted in your seat, ripping open an antiseptic wipe to clean the wound. “This is going to sting a bit.” You said as you held the wipe.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” The way he tried to sound cool had you cringing. The second you place down the wipe on the wound, you heard a faint hiss and you let out a huff that resembled a laugh. “You can, huh?” You met his gaze and he avoided it by looking to the side with an embarrassed grin.
A few moments of silence later, the soldier spoke up. “Say, doc,” You hummed, focused on throwing away the wipe once you were done sterilising the wound.
“What would you say if I uh- if someone asked you out? Asking for a friend.”
Your face was out of his sight since you were looking down on his palm, so he didn’t see you blinked slowly as you figured out why he was trying so hard to impress you. Suddenly you were aware that the chatter in the next room had gone silent, and you just knew that they were listening.
You looked up to see a faint red hue on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but let out another huff of laughter at the sight. “Did you purposefully got this wound to see me for that?” You asked jokingly as you started to wrap his palm in gauze. “Woah, no. ..but I would, if it meant I could see you again.” People asking you out wasn’t something uncommon to you, but his confidence baffled you in a way. If only he knew who you were married to.
You decided to play along, curious to know where this would lead. “Does this friend of yours.. know that I’m married? I don’t keep it a secret, you know.” You said as you raised your hand to show an outline of a ring beneath the latex gloves. He didn’t say anything for a bit, eyes focused on the ring as he kissed his teeth.
“But your husband is not here, is he? A pretty girl like you deserves to be treated somewhere nice, doc. I can take you out, tonight.” He uttered.
You felt your eye twitch and heard the chairs in the next room scraped against the floor. You tugged a bit on the gauze, making sure it’s secure. At this point you were almost done with him, so you look up to meet his gaze, but what you saw behind him made the excitement in your body skyrocket.
Thank god his back was facing the doorway, because there stood Ghost, arms menacingly crossed across his broad chest, leaning on the doorframe. Soap was beside him, his phone out and presumably recording the unfortunate moment. He even had a palm over his mouth desperately trying to supress his laughter.
An idea sparked in your head, you pursed your lips in a thin line and looked down for a bit, before meeting the soldier’s eyes again. “You think I’m pretty?” You replied in a low tone. God, you felt the goosebumps travelling all over your back, cringing so, so hard. He nodded eagerly and muttered, “So pretty.”
“…Thank you, but I don’t know.. I already have a date tonight.” You feigned innocence and tilted your head. “Really?,” he scoffed. Judging from his reaction, you assumed he thought that another soldier at the base already asked you out. Well, he was right. “Who’s the lucky fella? Is it the new private?” You playfully shrugged. “It’s him, right? he told me you rejected him..”
A bubble of laughter erupted from your stomach, both from his reply and the way Ghost stood behind him. Ghost knew well how much you liked to tease him and he’s fighting the urge to just grab the soldier and punch a hole into his goddamn face. The soldier furrowed his eyebrows, lips tugged in a confused half-smile.
“No, no not with the private. With my husband, actually. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Your gaze now landed on the figure behind the soldier, and he turned around quickly and looked up to meet Ghost’s blood curdling glare. “..L-lieutenant,” He greeted in a mix of respect and pure horror. More of the latter.
You knew Soap’s phone got a crystal clear view of the colours draining out of the poor soldier’s face, making a mental note to watch it later. His eyes widened and you could see how frigid his body had turned as Ghost walked over to your side.
“That’s right. In fact, I think we might be late for the reservation. You’re almost done, love?” He said softly to you, before enunciating the last word while looking straight into the soldier’s soul. His adam’s apple shifted as he gulped down the terror.
You nodded cheerily, releasing the soldier’s bandaged hand before standing up and walking over to the doorframe. “Alright, my nurse will inform you how to take care of the wound. It will take about a week to fully heal, so be careful. Take care, soldier.” You said with a bubbly tone before exciting the room to get ready to end your shift.
Now he was alone with the lieutenant in the room, minus the borderline-laughing sergeant behind the doorframe. Ghost said nothing as he continued to glare fucking daggers into the soldier and seeing him squirm in the seat, waiting for the nurse. He felt cold sweat run down his spine, eyes wide and trying hard to not look at the lieutenant’s gaze. The pure awkwardness and realisation of ‘I just hit on the lieutenant’s WIFE’ made him wanted to faint.
The tension was soon cut through like a knife by Ghost himself, his deep voice bouncing off the walls. “Rest up, soldier. You have a long day tomorrow.” He said sternly as he left the room. As if he took the pressure out with him, the soldier finally let out a deep breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.
A faint “beep” and a laughter was heard outside of the door, making the scared-shitless soldier turn around in his seat. Soap peeked his head and looked at him, a grin on his face. “You fucked up, lad. Better warn the private too, if I was ya’. An’ your whole squad. Best of luck.” He spoke in amusement before walking off to find you and Ghost and letting the soldier drown in his shithole of despair.
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sarawritestories · 2 months
Text
Unwavering Presence Chapter 8
Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)
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Summary: Rhys and Cassian talk about Under the Mountain. The twins, Rhys and Cass meet the bone carver where Y/N sees someone unexpected, the IC goes out for dinner and two familiar faces come to greet Y/N. Cassian gets jealous.
Content Warnings: broad allusion to the S/A of Rhys. Mention of death by childbirth, unwanted touching from a stranger in a bar setting.
A/N: This is a chapter that i'm really happy about! I'm excited to share but this is also where I'm going to warn that we're no longer going to follow canon exactly. Big moments will happen in the same order but i'm adjusting time lines and some canon moments to fit what I want. I hope you liked this chapter as much as I do. I'm also close to 500 followers and that's crazy. Thank you for reading and giving my stories some love!
Word Count: 6.5
Unwavering Masterlist, ACOTAR Masterlist, Chapter 7
Rhysand’s POV
I opened the door to peek inside, and my heart swelled. The twins were curled up on the bed together Y/N’s arm protectively over Feyre. Their faces were so peaceful, not a worry on their features. I smiled and closed the door. Turning to walk away, I jumped as Cassian was leaning against the wall arms crossed, “Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, unapologetic snoop.” I flipped him off and he chuckled. “Everything okay?” His tone turned serious.
I smiled, “Yeah, they are sleeping together.”  I paused as Cassian raised an eyebrow, “I mean they are asleep on the same bed. Don’t make it uncomfortable, brother.”
Cassian feigned offence placing a hand over his heart, “Rhys, how you wound me so!”  I rolled my eyes, as my brother’s face grew serious, “Do you think they are going to resolve their issues?”
I tucked my hands in my pockets, “I think they have already begun.” I looked back at the door and could hear the two rustling in bed before they settled. I nodded my head toward my study. Cassian held his arm out letting me lead the way. When we got into the study Cassian sat on the couch. “Cassian.”
“Rhysand.” He counters his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward, hands clasped together, his siphons gleaming in the fae light.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair, “I have a confession to make.”
Cassian brows furrowed, “By all means, Rhys, leave me in suspense.” He chuckled his laughter died in his throat at my face, “Shit, what is it?”
“There is something about that night that Y/N defended those girls, I never told you.” Cassian gave me his undivided attention. I held my hand out and Cassian rose from his seat, tucking in his wings he gripped my hand, and I took him to that night:
Cassian.
This girl reminded me of Cassian. Even as Amarantha cinched her wrist together, Y/N kept her chin up, her eyes met mine noticing aware her twin was on my lap her head on my shoulder. My hand remained on her waist. Amarantha had Y/N pinned to her. It’s like I could hear him chuckle, “Where the hell did you find these two human women, brother?”
Breathe. I’m sorry Y/N, I cannot help you.
Those girls didn’t deserve to see the cruelties of this world just yet. Try to keep their innocence.
Cassian would have said something similar with that same stance that same glint in his eye. I gave her a nod, and for the first time in 49 years I could not reign in the memory of my brother or the hope in my chest of seeing him again. Maybe these two human girls would be able to break this curse. Then I can go home and tell him about her. I can’t afford to think that way and I chug the rest of my wine.
 “Eris Vanserra, please step forward.” My blood ran cold as the heir of the Autumn Court’s name came out that witch’s mouth. My gaze drifted over to the red-haired male step up as Amarantha forced Y/N to her knees and pressed her forehead to the floor.
I gripped her sister tightly as she began to wiggle, “Darling, dance for me, will you?” I whispered in her ear. She drunkenly giggled and got up to begin to dance. I could feel Y/N’s pulse quicken, Breathe. Through your nose. I could see she obeyed as Eris lifted her to her feet. I fought against gritting my teeth keeping my mask of cool indifference. I focused on Feyre as her hips swayed positioned right between my legs. My gaze drifted back and saw that Eris put a collar of flames around her neck and he was guiding her by a leash of flame. The crowd separated as he approached me.
Feyre spun and saw her sister and smiled, “Y/N,” she grinned not realizing her sister was in the grips of a viper and yet she still held her chin up high a challenge in her eye. Again, I could hear Cassian’s voice, “You need to keep her safe, Rhysand. Keep her alive so I can meet her.”
I pulled from the memory and Cassian sat in the chair across from mine, his face unreadable and his shields were locked up tight. “Cass, it was the second time I let myself think of you. The first is when she defeated the worm, and she gave a dramatic bow to the crowd as Feyre threw a muddy bone to Amarantha. When Y/N ran up to those girls I allowed myself to think of you and the hopes of coming home so I could tell you about them. Y/N did something dangerous without ever knowing.”
Cassian took a deep breath, “What was that?”
“Hope,” I lifted my hand and a decanter, and two glasses appeared I poured two fingers worth in both glances and handed one to my brother, “She gave me hope that we would make it out of this, that we would be able to come home. And when I dropped Feyre into her cell, I made it back to my room and cried. I cried so hard I vomited I let out 49 years’ worth of missing you, Azriel, Mor, even Amren.” Cassian chuckled, “This one human girl unraveled me all because she reminded me of you.”
Cassian smiled and gripped his hand in mine, “Well you did make it home, brother, and you kept you promise too spiritual me.” I snorted as he continued, “She’s wonderful Rhys.” He released my hand, and I watched as his eyes went distant, “Is it possible to fall in love with someone from the first time you’ve met them.”
I tilted my head, “What?”
Cassian sat up straight, flaring his wings, and his cheeks turned a shade of red against his tan skin, “What? Did I say that out loud, mother above.” He drinks the alcohol to the dregs and sets the glass down. “I enjoy her company. Is all I’m saying.”
I chucked, “Someone have a little crush, brother?”
Cassian leveled me with a glare, “Shut it, you prick.” 
“I mean, Y/N, is funny. Kind.”
Cassian interjected, “Extremely kind.”
I grinned slyly, “She’s also beautiful.”
Cassian exhaled and his face morphed into a lovesick teenager’s, “The word beautiful doesn’t hold a candle to what she is.” Cassian blinked and looked over at me. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” I chuckled and stood having this sudden feeling of being dirty I plucked lint from my shirt and Cassian’s brow furrowed, “You’ve been doing that a lot since you’ve been home.” There was an underlying question that caused me to straighten my spine. “You don’t have to talk about it, Rhys, but I am here, if you want to.”
He stood and walked out of the study leaving me as my thoughts drifted to those haunted
Reader’s POV
I could feel eyes watching me as I slept and I jolted awake, Feyre doing the same to see Amren at the foot of the bed. “Don’t you knock.” I muttered rubbing my eyes. The morning sun filtered in the room.
Amren threw an amulet onto Feyre’s lap, “This is on loan. I expect this to be returned.”
Feyre looked at the jeweled necklace and looked at the tiny female confusion on her face. “What is this?”
“It’s, what helped me get out of the Prison, girl, you’ll need it today.” With that she left. Feyre and I exchanged glances and I simply shrugged sliding off the bed.
“Y/N,” I turned as my sister slid out of the bed as well, “Would you come with us today? To see the Bone Carver.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Rhys purred as he leaned against the door, Feyre threw a pillow at him, and he ducked in time that it flew in the hall. Rhys smirked and tucked a hand in his pocket.  “Such a violent little thing.”  I rolled my eyes.
“You two make me sick.” I muttered at the same time Feyre asked, “Don’t you knock.”
Rhys looked at me, “Do you want to come join us today?”
I nodded, “Sure, whatever I can do to help.”  I walked toward the door, Rhys blocked the door, I crossed my arms.
“Want Cassian to come?” Rhys lifted a suggestive brow.
I pursed my lips, “He’s a grown male, he probably has other things to do.”
Cassian popped up behind Rhys, “It just so happened that Rhys cleared my Schedule, Princess.” He gave me a wink and I fought the butterflies flittering in my stomach.
“A group adventure it is.” I looked at Rhys, my smile falling as I noticed the dark circles sunk in his eyes and stars gone and he looked distant.  You, okay? I reached out into his mind.
Rhys met my stare, Never better.
Liar.
High Lords can’t afford to have breakdowns in the time of War, Y/N.
I snorted. Someone better inform the High Lord of the Spring that.
Rhys laughed and placed a kiss on my cheek, “You are something else, Angel.”
My face didn’t change. If you need to talk, I’m here. You need to heal too. War or not.
Stars flickered back into his eyes, and he nodded as I moved to get to my room. The sound of boots was the only indication that I was being followed. “Something I can do for your, General?” I didn’t bother to turn around as I asked the question.
His hand gripped my wrist gently, “I wanted to see if you were okay.” His eyes drifted from my face to my chest.  His face tilted as he gently pushed my hair behind my shoulder. I had to remind myself to breathe as he tugged the tunic to reveal the new tattoo there. “Well, hello,” he purred as his eyes flicked to mine, my toes curled, and I had to fight my arousal by his sensual tone. “This wasn’t here a few days ago.”
I took a deep breath and centered myself trying to ignore how him rubbing his thumb against my tattoo caused my whole body to thrum in response. “Feyre and I made a promise to one another. The tattoo appeared not long after that.”
Cassian nodded, letting the silence blanket the hall and I was able to take a good look at him. His eyes had a warm kind glow to them and being this close little flecks of green poked through, and one eyebrow had a slit going through where a white scar laid bare. His face had stubble on it as if he hadn’t shaved yet and I yearned to cup his face to feel it against my skin. My eyes drifted to his lips full and as tan as his skin. My mind wandered as I thought what it would be like if I pressed my own to them. What would he taste like. Cassian shifted eyes widened and I hadn’t realized how close our faces had gotten. I took a step back and cleared my throat, “I should probably get ready.”
Cassian rubbed the back of his neck and a blush fell onto his cheeks it made him look boyish, “Good idea,” his voice was husky and slightly strained, and he tucked his lower lip behind his teeth. He was beautiful in every sense of the word.
 I turned forcing myself to look away from him and headed to my room when his voice rang out, “Princess,” I turned my head back he opened and closed his mouth and opened once more, “The prison is cold make sure to bundle up.” He looked pained as he said it, almost embarrassed.
“Thank you, General.” I winked and continued to my room all the while settling the erratic beating of my heart.
***
Cassian was not lying about it being cold. Rhys had winnowed us to the side of the mountain where the cold air pierced my skin. I wore my leathers with fleece line leggings and a long sleeve tunic underneath, but my teeth were still chattering. Cassian shuffled in the bag he brought with him and pulled out his leather jacket. There were patches on the back that were able to detach when he wears it to accommodate his wings. The wind caused a few of the loose strands from his bun to fly into his face though as he approached me, he seemed unfazed by the cold as he held up the bag. “Here, Princess.”
I slipped my arms into the leather sleeves, and he raised the jacket to my shoulders. Warmth encased my upper body as his jacket falling to my knees. Cassian’s hands gave my shoulders a squeeze, “Thank you.”
Cassian leaned in close his warmth seeping into my bones as he whispered, “You’re welcome.”
We made to the entrance of the building and Cassian interlaced his hand in mine and gave it a comforting squeeze. Rhys was the one that broke the silence talking to Feyre, “Do not let go of my hand. No matter what you hear or what you see. Do. Not. Let. Go.” Feyre nodded.
Rhys turned to me. Not like you would want her to let go of your hand. I smirked as Rhys leveled a glare my way, the only indication that my statement got to him. “Same with you, Y/N. Don’t let go of Cass’ hand.”
I lift our entwined hands and open my hand up as Cassian’s still clamped down and go as far as shaking our arms causing the male behind me to chuckle, “I don’t think he would let me. If I want to.”
“Not a chance. Not here.” Cassian murmured.
“Amren-“a hand clamped over my mouth muffling the rest of my sentence and  I tried to wriggle from Cassian’s grasp fighting against how his body pressed against me makes me feel.
Rhys sighed, “We don’t mention her near or in the prison.”
Cassian released my mouth and I shoot him a glare. “Why?”
The General spoke this time, “The prisoners here do not take kindly to her escape. If they know we know here it could get messy, fast.”
“Next time just say that.” I punched his shoulder, “No need to manhandle me.”
He kissed my cheek, “Sorry, Princess, won’t happen again.” He leans in lowering his voice, “Unless you ask me to.”
Heat crept up my face as he straightened to his full height, and I tried to ignore how the words left a pool of heat in my belly, I punched him again, “Shameless flirt.”
Cassian laughed, “Keep it up, Archeron, and your punches could actually hurt me one day.”
I scowled as we entered the prison my humor dying as the darkness consumed us. The low fae lights didn’t help with lighting the path before us. Though Rhys and Cassian led us like they knew the place backward and forward.  I could feel Feyre’s tension as badly as my own as we turned this way and that. Every turn reminded me of the path Under the Mountain but before my mind could wander too far into those memories there would be a squeeze of my hand. Like the male beside me knew where my mind was going and wanted to bring me back to him.
After a few minutes we reached the cell of the bone carver. Feyre looked back at me, and I gave her an encouraging nod.  Rhys led her into the cell, and I stepped closer to Cassian our hands still entwined, and he curled his wing around me giving me extra warmth. We stepped inside and moved around, and I lowered my head finding my feet interesting.
Feyre and Rhys had begun their musings but the metallic smell from the power this creature possessed was making it hard for me to focus. I drowned out the conversation picking up key words. The book of breathings and Like calls to like but everything else was drowned out I tried to focus on Cassian’s hand in mine and how he was rubbing his thumb along the side of my hand. Back and forth back and forth, before I knew it, I was matching my breathing to the slow movements his thumb was making to center myself.  The cell fell silent as I finally adjusted to the cell.
A female voice flooded my ears, “Look at me Y/N Archeron.” I looked up and was taken aback by the female before me. She was beautiful. She had one hazel and one Blue gray eye that looked so much like Feyre’s she had long dark hair braided in a crown atop her head a few wavy pieces that strayed from the updo framed her face highlighting her pointed ears. Her tan skin was clad in leathers similar to the ones Cassian and Azriel wore. What really caught my attention was her wings, they too were like Azriel’s and Cassian’s broad and beautiful even when tucked tightly behind her. She smirked, “Step closer, child.”
I attempted to take a step, but Cassian’s hand stayed firm in mine gently pulling me back to him. I wouldn’t move back to him I wanted to get a closer look at the female, she had a slender face, freckles kissed her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She looked so much like Cassian, but then there was that smile and it looked so similar to the one my twin and I share. Was this a relative of Cassian’s?  She was beautiful.
Her laugh was boisterous, “Who do you see when you look upon me child?”
Don’t answer that. Rhys voice flittered into the spot of my shield for him.
“I don’t know.” I answered honestly.
You’re a great listener, you know that?  
Cassian once again gently tries to tug me back to him. As the Bone Carve paces like a wild animal in a cage, “I wonder, what secrets does the human Archeron twin keep. Tell me one secret, Y/N Archeron.”
“What do I get for sharing a secret with you?” I asked and tried to release my hand, but Cassian refused to let go.
“Oh, clever girl,” The females wings fluttered, “A secret for a secret then and as a sign of good faith I will go first.” She met my gaze, “There are ancient creatures that roam these lands, Legend states that they were extinct in the first war. They were not, they just went into hiding. They want to come out and play again.”
Rhys swore, and I looked back and saw Cassian’s face paled as he muttered, “Dragons.”
The female looks back at Cassian, “Indeed, Prince of Bastards.” Something made me bristle at the implication of the title and the sneer on her lips. She turned back to me. “A deal is a deal.”
Rhys stepped in, “No we’re leaving, your insight has been very helpful.”
He turned and my sister was made to follow, Cassan gripped my arms releasing my hand and turned me away but wiggled out of his grasp and took the opportunity of his mistake stepping toward the Bone Carver, “A secret of any kind?”
She smiled and bowed her head, “I am partial to the darkest secrets, but I will accept any, Y/N Archeron.”
“Y/N,” Cassian’s tone was laced with warning that I promptly ignored.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “I am responsible for the death of my mother.”
***
We returned to the Town house in complete silence it wasn’t until we were in the dining room that Rhys debriefed Azriel, Amren, Mor. About what the bone carver said about the Dragons and the Book of breathings. I just listened as they talked about half the book being at the summer court and the other half with the human queens. I could feel eyes on me, but I proceeded to ignore his gaze and focus on Rhysand.
“I want to keep this between us for now. I have a plan to test Carver’s theory that Feyre can sense these objects. Like calls to like but I will need a few days to do so. I’ll send a letter to Tarquin and see if he will allow us to make a visit there. That leaves the human queens.”
I mutter, “Nesta and Elain could help.”
Feyre nodded, “We could use their manor as the meeting point. They could be our Correspondence with them since they reside in the Human lands.”
“You both willing to go back and talk to them.” Rhys looked at me.
“You did give us the job as your human emissaries, Rhys. I’ll do what I must.” Feyre nodded in agreement.
‘Alright, send word to your sisters tomorrow and see if we can set up a time to meet. However, I think tonight we have earned off. Let’s go out to dinner.”
Everyone cheered, even Amren had a sly grin to her face as they exited to go get ready, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys and I stayed in the dining room. I met Cassian’s gaze his lips were in a tight line and his arms were crossed over his broad chest. He was stunned at my confession at the prison, but he didn’t say a word, he had just grabbed my hand and led me back out, holding it tightly to keep me grounded.  His eyes went vacant for a moment and when they went back to normal, he looked to Feyre and grinned “Feyre, let me escort you back to your room. Maybe that way I can talk you into fighting lessons. With me.” He held out his arm for her to take and winked, and my heart sunk. He was flirting with her. I mean I guess this was the first time I’ve seen him interacting with other women in the court. I had been so wrapped in my bubble that I never noticed that he was a natural flirt.
Feyre smiled and looped her arm in his and he walked out leading her upstairs. Rhys was facing the door looking out at Velaris, I pushed out of my seat, “What did you mean today?” Rhys asked turning to face me, “When you said you were responsible for your mother’s death.”
I shrugged, “What I said is what I meant, Rhys.” His brow furrowed. “Can we not talk about it? Please.”
Rhys sighed and walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, “Fine, but we have to talk about it.”
I pulled away, “Like how we have to talk about how Feyre is your mate?” His face paled as he dropped his arms. “I’m human, I’m not dumb, I noticed your behavior changed. She doesn’t know does she?”
Rhys shook his head, “No,”
I shook my head, “When did you find out?”
“When we said goodbye after we beat Amarantha.”
Shock rocked me, “You were going to let her marry, him…”
Rhys bit his lip, “I was going to respect what she wanted. I wanted her to be happy. Then she called out for help, Y/N, she was begging for anyone to save her. I felt it down the bond.”  
I nodded my head, and I cupped his cheek, “Don’t keep her in the dark forever, Rhys, she’ll hate you for it.” With that I walked to my room to get ready for dinner.
***
We arrived at the restaurant, and everyone was dressed to the nines, and I opted for black silk pants and a sapphire blue corset top and a leather jacket. Put my hair up in a ponytail and placed a matching sapphire blue bow and some comfortable slippers. I walked down and Azriel shared an amused look, “Well Archeron, may I say blue looks ravishing on you.” He kissed my cheek. It was then that I noticed I matched his siphons. Everyone laughed as a blush crept up my face and I glanced at Cassian. He looked bemused but still made sure to extend his arm for me to take to escort me to the restaurant though it was apparent he kept us a good distance from the shadow singer.
Even at the dinner table Azriel sat by the window and I was making my way to sit next to him, Cassian guided me to the end of the table on the opposite side. “Cass, he doesn’t bite.” I murmured.
Cassian pulled out my seat for me and gently pushed me in, “Yes. He does. And he is a sore fucking loser.”
Azriel snorts, “I’m sorry she chose blue instead of red, brother.”
Rhys buts in, “She is allowed to wear whatever she wants, in whatever color she wants. Just because she wears a color doesn’t mean she is swearing an allegiance to either of you.” The kind restaurant owner came and brought our food and handed us a goblet for Amren. “Thank you, Nicolette. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
The older female bowed her head, “Likewise, Rhysand. I hope everything is to your liking.” She looked to Feyre who was dressed in another radiant midnight blue Top and matching pants. “Its an honor to meet you Cursebreaker,” her gaze reached mine, “You as well Y/N Archeron. I hope you enjoy.”
Simultaneously Feyre and I said, “Thank you.” She smiled and left.
We all began eating and I looked over to Amren, “You don’t eat.” Not a question.
“Very observant, girl.” Amren snorted swirling the goblet in her hand.
“Are you not high fae?” I asked curiosity getting the better of me.
Rhys interjected, “She is in a way.”
“I do not know what I am completely, I did take form in a high fae body I chose this body.” Amren said in a tone telling me that that was all the information she was willing to give. I took a note and began drinking out of my own glass.
Azriel leaned his elbows on the table there was a mischievous glint in his eye, “Y/N, tell me. Did you have any lovers back in the human realm?” I choked on my drink; a fit of coughing erupted. A hand was rubbing my back and I looked to see Cassian giving Azriel a glare that if I were on the end of it would make me want to crawl out of my skin. Azriel didn’t seem phased.
���Just one.” I answered when I regained my breath. “Lover is a generous term for it though.”
Azriel quirked a brow, “Oh, why is that?” Feyre shifted in her seat uncomfortably by this conversation.
Before I could answer two tiny voices called out, “Y/N, Y/N.” I turned my brow furrowed in confusion as two small girls came running to the table and when I turned to face them, they leapt into my arms. Two little red-haired girls with tan skin tucked their heads into my neck. I rose, arms securing them as I moved off the chair.
The girls’ mother came toward us, “I’m so sorry. They saw you and they wanted to say hello.”
The two girls pulled away and met Y/N’s gaze and I gasped their green eyes shined bright and their red hair was not matted but curled and their tan skin looked healthy and gleaming. “Well look at you two. You have grown.” I smiled, holding both of their hands.”
Mor’s voice piqued, “You know them?”
One of the girls who was slightly taller, “You remember us?”
I smiled, “Of course I do.” She pulled them into a hug again and the two girls clung to her tightly. “I would never forget either of you.”
Their mom smiled, “I never got a chance to see you, to thank you for what you did for them.”
I met the mom’s stare with a smile of my own, “No thanks necessary.” The girls pulled away from me but still clung to my hands, “I’m glad you girls are okay.” I looked back up to their mom, “I didn’t realize you resided in the Night Court.”
“We were originally from the Autumn Court. I served for the Lady of the Court. Rhysand offered me a place to stay and a comfortable home if I wanted it.” I looked to see her gazing at Rhys with a smile and Rhys nodded his head, “I couldn’t stay in that court knowing what the prince did, so I grabbed the girls, and he brought us here.”
The girl that spoke before said, “We love it here!”
I smiled, “I’m so glad.” I leaned and naturally the two girls also lean in as if we’re telling a big secret “I love it here too.” The girls giggled in response, “What are both of your names? I never got a chance to be properly introduced. I’m Y/N.”
The social butterfly of the two smiled wide, “I’m Alexis, you can call me Lexi. This is my twin Elizabeth, but we all call her Lizzie.”
Lizzie gives a shy wave before biting her lip a bit. I beamed and I turned and point to Feyre, “Well what a coincidence my Twin is right there. That’s Feyre. I call her Fey.”
Feyre gave the two girls a small wave, and the two waved back enthusiastically. Y/N looks to the mom, “I’m Evangeline. Feel free to call me Evie.” I let go of the girls’ hands for a moment and walked toward Evie as she blinked away a few tears and gripped me into a hug, “I can’t thank you enough,” She turned her gaze to Rhys and Feyre and the rest of our table. “All of you, for your kindness.”
Rhys smiled, “The pleasure is ours.” The table all gave nods in agreement.
Lexi tugged on my pant leg, “Can we have a sleepover sometime?”
Alexis!” Evie scolded, “She is probably busy with working for the high-“
I interrupted her raising my hand, “For my two new friends,” I knelt to their level, “I would make the time. You just need to convince the High Lord. I do live at his house at the moment.”
Lexi and Lizzie ran to Rhysand and held their hands up, “Please, High Lord. Please.” I noticed that  Cassian and Azriel were trying really hard not to laugh as they saw their brother turn to into putty at these girls hands.
Rhys smiled, “Tell you what whenever, mom needs some time to get errands done, or would like to have an evening to herself you can come to my townhouse and spend as much time as you want with my family.”
“Including Y/N?” Lizzie asked quietly.
Rhys smiled widened, “Yes, including Y/N.” He gave them a playful wink and the two girls giggled and ran back to their mom.
“C’mon girls, let them enjoy the rest of their dinner.”
Alexis waved, and Y/N stands to take her seat, and she feels a tugged on her pants. She looked down to find Lizzie and her eyes lined with silver, and she blurts, “I want to be like you when I grow up.” She looked down sheepishly after blurting it.
I took a minute to process what she said, “What do you mean, Sweetheart?”
She looked up tears streamed down her face, “I want to be brave and kind and not afraid like you,” I could feel the emotion swelling in my chest and tears of my own were beginning to fall. I fell to my knees and pulled her in to a hug, and Lizzie erupted into sobs burying her face in her shoulder. I held out my other arm and Alexis ran into tears in her eyes too. Lizzie whimpered, “I was so afraid I had an accident. You were so brave, Y/N.”
“You were so brave.” I whispered, stroking their hair. I pulled away from them and made the effort to wipe both their tears from their faces. “I think you both were extremely brave. You both held your chin up so high going back to your mom. I was proud of you.” I looked at both girls, “I was proud of both of you.” I smiled and hugged them both, “And we’re here now. And we’re friends.”
“Forever?” Lexi hiccuped.
“And ever.” I promised.
I gave both girls a kiss on their forehead and sent them back to their mom who was smiling with gratitude. I took a seat in my chair watching them walk away, “So those were the girls you told me about.”
I nodded as I shifted back to face my friends, Cassian held out his napkin for me to grab and I graciously took it and wiped my eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t even know they were twins. Kind of poetic.” I chuckled as I felt the familiar callouses of Cassian’s hand on the back of my neck, that thumb rubbing soothing circles and I leaned into his touch. “Thank you, Rhys, for bringing them here and giving them a better life.”
Rhys held out his hand and I took it, and he grabbed Feyre’s hand and gave them both a squeeze, “They deserved it, as you both deserve a chance at a better happy life.”
***
Dinner came to a close and as we walked out in the crisp night air Mor linked arms with me, “I say we head to Rita’s anyone in?”
Cassian and Azriel agreed to join but it was Rhys and Feyre who both declined Amren already left for the evening. I smiled at both of them and waved before I was being dragged away to the bar.
The atmosphere of Rita’s was nothing like the taverns at the human realms, the music thrummed, and the beat could be felt on the floor there were various colored fae lights, Azriel led us all to a table and offered to grab everyone drinks. Mor sat next to Cassian, and I ended up at the end of the booth. I noticed how Mor laid her head on Cassian’s shoulder and he laid his head on top of hers giving her forehead a light kiss and that pang rang in my chest again. How had I not noticed that he is like this with everyone. Clearly he expresses love through touch.
 Azriel brought everyone a drink and a shot. I took the shot with fervor and welcomed the burn of the alcohol. Az sat across from me and quirked his brow as I also chugged the drink, he brought for me. This was going to be a long night.
A few drinks in and Mor was basically on Cassian’s lap. I tried not to gape, but it was hard as she kept whispering in his ear. He held her but his face was slightly bored, Az and I just sat and watched the people on the dance floor. His shadows swirled around my ankle, and I smiled.
“Excuse me,” I male’s voice interrupts my appreciation of Azriel’s shadows and look up to find a fae male, with pale skin and blonde hair smiling at me. “Could I bother you for a drink and a dance.” I looked him over his body was toned and I noticed that he had a tail that touched the floor if he were to extend it out. “I just couldn’t help but notice how you beautiful you were.”
I opened my mouth to refuse but Mor cut in, “She would love to.” Mor gave me a light push and I turned back to look at Cassian who seemed more interested in his drink as Mor nuzzled back into him. I gave the male in front of me a bright smile and took his hand.
We walked to the bar, and he said his name was Mark not even bothering to ask for mine, “So I’ve not seen you around before?” He purred in my ear as our drinks came. His tail brushed up my leg and I stepped out of its reach.
“I’m new in town.” I said shrugging.
“For being new in town, you do keep interesting company. The Lord of Bloodshed, The Morrigan and the Shadowsinger. You must have made some impression.” His tail pushed me closer to him, so he grabbed me by the waist. I pressed a hand to his chest, “Sorry, Babe. Sometimes my tail has a mind of its own. I nodded and fought the urge to roll my eyes. We continued our drinks in proximity, and he insisted we go dance. He placed a hand on my lower back his tail once again grazing my leg and moving to the under curve of my ass. The alcohol was settling in my system so that where his hands were didn’t bother me anymore and I let the beat of music take me away.
Mark wrapped a hand around my stomach and held me flush to his chest. “You are such a pretty thing,” He murmured in my ear. I hummed in thanks as his free hand gripped my throat lightly, to angle my head to his. I could see the lust in his eyes as they glanced at my lips, and he leaned in. There was a cough behind us.
We turned and Cassian stood there, ire was in his eyes and the object of that anger was geared to Mark. “Mind if I cut in?”
Mark had a look as if he wanted to say he would but thinking better of it he walked away not so much as a goodbye. His tail did manage to graze my ass. What a dick.  Cassian moved closer and gripped my hand and spun me around. He pressed me to his back my head meeting his chest. Both his hands entwined with mine and pressed me closer and calm washed over me. He whispered, “You look beautiful tonight.”
I smiled and shifted my head to see his hazel eyes now soften and his pupils were blown out. “Thank you, Cass.”
He spun me around, so he pressed my chest to his, and his toned arm snaked around my waist. His nose brushed mine, “I wonder though how you would look in red instead of blue.”
The alcohol made me bold because I grinned, “Hmm I wonder how Az would fee-“
Cassian growled, “I don’t want to hear his name out of that pretty little mouth of yours, Princess.”
“Whose name should I say?”
His lips were so close to mine, our breaths intertwining, as he huskily said. “Mine.”
Before I could press my lips to his, Mor tapped his shoulder, “We’re going home, fly me to my apartment?” Cassian pulled away and I instantly missed his warmth.”
“Sure.” He muttered before kissing my head, “Goodnight, Princess.” He turned back to Mor glaring at her, and she only gave him a saccharine smile.
Mor blew a kiss to me before looping her arm in Cassian’s and the duo walked out.
Azriel was beside me in an instant, “She’s a brat.” He murmured and pressed a hand on my back and led me out of Rita’s.
When we reached the Townhome I walked into my room and sat on my bed and looked out at the night sky, hoping to see wings and flashes of red on the horizon.
Chapter 9
Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @blackgirlmagicforever @fullmoon-94
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indouloureux · 2 years
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eddie and reader in an argument?? basically eddie misses something that he was supposed to do for her like picking her up after work or she had this big thing she hoped eddie would show up to but he got caught up on something and its not the first time it happened? but pls make it a happy ending
aaaa some hurt/comfort me love. thank you for requesting! <3
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eddie winces when you slam the door open, doorknob colliding loudly against the wall as you does so. and he's sputtering out your name and stop like a mantra. but you don't.
"sweetheart, i-..." he sighs, hands falling limp to his sides as you enter the bathroom, a hasty hand opening the faucet as you begin to wash your hands. "can you please just...look at me?"
his plea was reasonable, at least. you haven't looked at him since he picked you up from the studio. poor naive eddie had expected you jumping into his arms, except he'd been greeted by an irate stance of crossed arms and foot tapping; eyes he's been daydreaming of eschew from him and it hurts his chest that you're avoiding his sight.
the car ride was silent. and he even played your favorite songs as you made your way home. but nothing made you look at him, and he wonders if the empty streets of hawkins was more interesting than the fact that he chose to listen to your songs.
eddie's how are you? was greeted by a curt i'm fine. his how was your day? was answered with a shrug. his kiss was chastised by the contact of your cheek, and both his hands were on the steering wheel than your thigh. his heart ached, really, when you kept on scooting in your corner the closer you got from home.
you turn the faucet off, a small squeak heard. you wipe your hands on your jeans, running your slightly damp fingers through your hair before you finally look at him. the frustration is evident by the way your pupils were almost a speck to nothing, a slight flare on your nostrils. although what makes him nervous the most was by the way your jaw clenches.
"what, eddie?"
he looks nervously at your hand on the sink, then at the hand on your hip before he directly looks at your irritated face. "did i do something, baby? you- you haven't looked at me since i picked you up and you sound- well, are you mad?"
you sigh, in a way that tells you're tired. physically, emotionally, his poor mind's still figuring it out. eddie has a hand lifted to reach out to you. "i don't know, eddie. i'm- i'm just tired. let's go to bed."
"hey, hey, no," he stops you on your way out, his body blocking the doorway, hands on your arms to stop you. the courage you've gathered to look at him is torn apart when you refuse to look him in the eyes once more. "talk to me, baby, come on."
"eddie, i'm tired—"
"no. no, you said communication m-makes the relationship work. so you tell me now. we're not sleeping until you tell me what's wrong," eddie frowns, trying to gather up all his patience. "please, (y/n). come on."
you close your eyes, tightly, the wrinkles around your eyes deepening until you open them and stare at him. "you didn't show up to my artshow, eddie."
oh.
his face falls, thoughts now dawned upon the realization. eddie was late to your show, one he promised about. one you talked about for weeks and one he's been listening to nonstop from how proud he was. and he was late.
five hours late, to be exact. kept you waiting outside in the cold with nothing but a thin shirt and jeans, spent two cigarettes as your thoughts filtrated around worry. and when he showed up, he had the nerve to think that everything was okay.
eddie knew how important it was to you. the same person who you expected to show up and come support you like you'd do to his gigs, never went through the door; never clapped and cheered for you.
"sweetheart," he exhales, eyebrows scrunched into a tiny raise. eddie swallows his tears, lets it hurt his throat because he doesn't deserve to cry over his mistake. "i'm so sorry."
"no, eddie! you- you promised!" you jab a finger through his chest before you wedge your thumbnail in between your teeth, blinking rapidly. "you said you'd be there! you told me every day for the past two weeks that you'd be there. and then- and then you weren't and you just left me hanging with my expectations!"
you stab your finger at his hard chest at every word, your voice wavering, filling it with this thorns around your throat that it hurts to speak while you hold back your tears. eddie takes in the pain that your nail gives, but eventually wraps his hand around your wrists.
"i know. i know, baby, i'm sorry." eddie suspires. "i just— i got caught up with the deal. they took too long. i'm sorry, it won't happen again."
you sniffle, loudly that it echoes around the porcelain walls of the bathroom. you refuse to look at him, and glare at the red pick that hangs on his chest instead. his heart aches when your bottom lip wobbles as you say, "you know, that's not the first time you said that. and every time i hear you say it, i always wished i'd never hear it again."
i'm sorry, it won't happen again.
the same words he said when he missed your performance at the pep rally and at the championship game, when he was late to picking you up from work, when he missed your dinner date that you worked hard for. countless events, arguments ended with the same six words before you both fall asleep and pretend it didn't happen because you both fool yourselves to.
"there's this voice at the back of my head that kept on whispering to me that you might be late," you mutter. "and i didn't believe it because you promised, eddie. you promised. and i believed you because i thought that you'd never really do it again. that- that you've learned—"
his heart aches at the two tears that roll down your cheeks. and before he can stop them, there's a bijou of tears that stroll down. eddie cups your face, but you shake your head to move them away. "i learned. i learned, (y/n). i promise that i learned. it's just that—"
"it's just what, eddie?" you furrow your eyebrows. "it's just that your campaign was too long and you forgot and you couldn't disappoint them? it's just that some- some guy stopped you over and asked for weed? or you took dustin to talk to his girlfriend or helped gareth with his guitar? it's just what, eddie? hm?"
"what?" he narrows his eyes at you. "baby, don't put words into my mouth-"
"i'm not," you almost yell, wiping your palm on your forehead. "i'm listing down the same reasons you tell me whenever you weren't there."
eddie lets his reason die in his throat and takes all the pain your words stab to him. he sniffles, feeling his own tears at his waterline as he stupidly decides to wrap his arms around you. you try to push him away, but your tears render you weak — pushing at his chest was as useless as the reason he tries to calm you down with.
"i'm starting to feel like i'm not important to you anymore," you whisper exasperatedly. "it's like- like all my achievements, or-or my hardwork don't matter anymore. because you're always not there, eddie."
he doesn't let go, keeps you tight to his chest as you spend all your energy into pushing him away. but with all your vigor ripped to its seams, you give in, sinking into his chest as you limply wrap your arms around his elbows. eddie whimpers at your sobs, muffled by his shirt that now has tear stains — color darkening by your cries.
"i'm sorry," he repeats. "i'm sorry. i'm so, sorry, baby i-" i promise it won't happen again. he wants to say. but he's afraid of breaking his stupid promise; afraid of breaking your heart again.
"you can just-" you wipe your nose on his sleeve. "you can't just hug me and say i'm sorry every time you disappoint me by breaking your promise, eddie."
every time you disappoint me.
his heart breaks. but he knows he's right. disappointment's always expected in relationships, anyway. it's not like he's never been disappointed in you before.
eddie shushes you, pats your unkempt hair down as he lets a few tears drop down his cheeks and onto your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
"i promise it won't happen again," he says. "i- i love you. okay? you're important to me. i'm very fucking sorry that i wasn't always there. okay so- so from now on, i'm cancelling all those stupid deals, okay?" eddie bends down, placing his hands on your shoulders. and he fights the urge to smile when you finally look into his eyes. "i promise you that i'll be there. break up with me if i break that promise, okay?"
the corners of your lips tug down, before you surprisingly let out a short laugh as you push his hair behind his ears, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as you cup his face.
"i won't break up with you. but i'll hit you in your balls, eddie, i swear," you sniffle. "just promise me, okay?"
"i promise," he nods, taking you into his arms once more. "you're- you matter to me, okay?"
you want to believe him. really. but that's the point in this whole thing — which promise to believe is unknown. it's where the trust is built. so you nod, letting him wipe your tears away. "okay. okay okay. just. be there, okay?"
"yeah." he nods. "i'll be there. even at the fucking bathroom while you pee, i'll be there. or- or at an alternate dimension. or even when you ask me to follow you into mordor. i'll do it, baby."
you laugh, and it's the best thing he's ever heard the entire night.
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reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
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empresskylo · 1 year
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ghost doesn’t realize how touch-starved he is until you are bandaging him up. inspired by this beauty and the beast scene
a/n: i am literally so horny for this man. i have never even played cod lmao. the men from the new campaign just started popping up on my tiktok feed and now here i am. so i apologize if this is ooc for ghost… like i said, i have no idea what this game is about. but i can’t get these big boys out of my head… making me go feral fr.
cw: blood
simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader
wc: 1.3k
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓
Ghost laid propped against the wall as you dabbed his wound on his thigh with a cold, damp cloth. He hissed, slightly moving his leg away from your grip. “Hold still!”
You could hear him mumble swears under his breath as you continued to work. “For someone so big, you really are such a baby,” you teased lightly under your breath, the adrenaline rush making you a bit more confident with your lieutenant. “I told ya I can wait till we’re back at base,” his deep voice growled, his teeth clearly clenching as your fingers pried through the exposed tissue searching for the bullet lodged in the flesh.
“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll bleed out everywhere and I don’t want to have to clean it up. And if you pass out from the lack of blood, you really think I can carry you back?” You couldn’t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask at your sudden snarky remarks. He hadn’t seen this side of you before.
He grunted in response. Ghost’s eyes studied you, concentration flushing across your face as you worked at the opening in this thigh. You felt the pressure under his intense watch. His eyes traced up to your forehead where your hair was matted with blood. “Your head,” he muttered, his own hand pointing up by his eyebrow.
“Huh?” you asked, tearing your eyes away to look at him. You mirrored him and reached a hand up and grazed your brow then looked back at your fingers. They were red. “Oh. I… Must have hit my head.” Everything had happened so fast, you didn’t even remember getting hurt.
“You should-“ Ghost began before you interrupted.
“I’ll be fine . I need to get the bullet out of you first. So, for the last time, quit moving!”
Ghost chuckled, “Sound like me.” You rolled your eyes, hearing the irony as you repeated the same thing Ghost had said to you earlier: I’ll be fine.
Your hands were covered in Ghost’s blood as you worked to remove the tiny bullet. Ghost sat perfectly still. You glanced up at him, his face stoic under his mask as he observed, still as he could be. Apparently, he did know how to listen.
“Just pull the damn thing out,” he grunted. You finally got ahold of the metal and tore it from his thigh. You held it up in success, a slight smile on your face. 
“I was about to get it out anyways, this has nothing to do with your demands.”
“Mhm,” he mumbled as he adjusted his position.
Your fingers danced along his exposed skin as you began to apply a bandage to his open wound. Ghost could feel goosebumps rise where your fingers trailed. His body focused on the movement of your fingers, he couldn’t even feel the pain he should definitely be feeling right now.
After you finished, you rested your hands on his thigh a few inches above your work and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “ There ,” you said with relief. Ghost’s ears pinked under his mask, your warm touch radiating through his trousers, your hands a little too high up for comfort. You, however, hadn’t noticed the intimacy of your touch.
You shifted your stance and sat facing Ghost. You held out a clean cloth, wanting him to clean the cut that sliced through your forehead. He stared at you. You rolled your eyes. Did you have to explain everything? “I can’t see,” you said, pointing to your forehead. Ghost reluctantly took one of his gloves off and grabbed the wet linen from you. You leaned closer and closed your eyes. Ghost swallowed hard. He slowly brought his hand up to the cut that ran from your hairline and right through your eyebrow. After dabbing away the blood you handed him a bandage and some bandage tape. Ghost huffed. “I’m not your bloody nurse.”
“I’m not yours either but you didn’t see me complaining,” you retorted. Ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and slipped off his other glove than took the supplies from you. He was familiar with treating injuries, at least until the person was able to get seen by a proper medical professional. So why was he suddenly acting flustered?
His hand gently rested on your forehead as he lined the bandage up. He couldn’t avoid touching your skin, his fingers being pulled towards you against his better judgment. Your skin felt like fire beneath his fingertips. Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he touched someone this gently. He took the ripped bits of tape and secured the bandage in place. His fingers lingered, then softly skimmed the side of your face and fluttered through your hair. How he missed the warm feeling he got when he caressed someone so delicately. He was so used to vulgar aggressiveness, he almost forgot that he was capable of such embraces. You kept your eyes shut even though you wanted to open them in surprise at Ghost’s lingering touch. Having been away from everyone in your life for so long made you desperate for someone to squeeze you tight. To hold you close. To just keep your bed warm beside you. You hadn’t even realized how deprived of touch you truly were until Ghost touched you with his calloused hands.
You opened your eyes and Ghost’s own locked on yours, both of your breathing the only sound in the small room. He quickly yanked his hand away, clearly embarrassed. He’d curse his hand out later for having a mind of its own. He flexed his hand, rubbing it with his other. He debated on apologizing but found it hard to speak. Before he could finish his thought, you grabbed his wrist.
He mumbled your name, his accent dripping over his words heavier than usual. His gaze was always so intense, but you didn’t back down.
He froze as he watched you, curious of your next move. You both had understood what happened without even speaking—a sort of silent acknowledgment of the way you both were touch-starved, the only connection with another body prior to this being through violence. 
You scooted closer to him and pulled his arm so it draped around your shoulder. You tentatively leaned against his chest, feeling his breathing deepen. Ghost felt tense underneath you, his body rigid. Feeling bold and empty, you grabbed his hand and laced it with yours, the heat transfer from holding someone skin to skin a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months. It was comforting and relieving. As much as it flustered Ghost, he also felt a huge feeling of relief as your hands warmed against one another. His fingers closed and gripped your hand back. You could feel him slightly relax, his body molding to yours.
He could smell your shampoo as your head sat propped under his chin. When was the last time he held someone like this? He couldn’t quite remember. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about these types of things until now.
After a long pause, you felt Ghosts chest rumble as he spoke. “I think this is the longest you’ve gone without rambling on about somethin’.”
Your lips quirked up in a slight smile. You both knew things were going to be awkward the moment you faced each other and made your way back to base. Ghost was especially concerned with the fact that one of his soldiers would know how weak he had acted.
But with both of your faces out of view from the other, softly intertwined, everything felt… good .
“Mhm, don’t get used to it,” you said quietly. Ghost could hear the sleep in your speech. He pondered a moment. At least you were both safely inside the building having already prowled the area for enemies. Maybe it was okay if he let you rest a minute? And not because Ghost didn’t want to break away from your hold, but because both of you were wounded and he knew better than to push through something like that when he had the time to regain his strength.
Ghost hadn’t realized his thumb began absentmindedly stroking circles against your skin, his grip around you tightening slightly.
part 2
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runnning-outof-time · 3 months
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For your celebration 🎉 can I please get …
“Look at me right now.” — with Tommy
Xx
Thanks for sending this in, Liv! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! I just had to go with Modern Tommy here for the Modern Tommy Queen….it’s nowhere near as amazing as when you write him, but I tried my best. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
Any Ideas?
Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: smoking, language, sexual situation (nothing too nsfw), possessive behavior
Word Count: 1256
Summary: Tommy’s had enough of other men looking at his girl. He decides he’s going to do something about it.
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“What is your problem?” (Y/N) asked as she walked out of the ensuite bathroom with a towel wrapped around her frame. Tommy was in the same place as she left him: sitting at her vanity smoking a cigarette. She could just tell that something was eating at him…but she knew that she had to be the one to bring it up; to coax it out of him.
“Hmm?” he merely hummed a response, his eyes catching hers through the mirror as he took another drag from his cigarette.
(Y/N) huffed in response to his half-assed answer. “Don’t ‘hmm’ me. I know something’s on your mind. Spill it,” she insisted, her eyebrows raised as she placed one hand on her hip. Tommy just chuckled at her stance. “You’ve been acting like this the entire night. What is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he nonchalantly answered, turning his one palm to the sky as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh but you do,” she countered, waiting for a moment to see if he’d add anything to his previous statement. He simply kept smoking. She let out a huff and made her way over to the walk in closet. “It was that guy at the event, wasn’t it? The one that kept looking over at us…at me. You didn’t like the fact that he was staring, and so you’ve decided to brood over it, right?” she went on as she was opening drawers, searching for something to wear to bed. Something he’ll be unable to resist, she thought to herself with a smirk. A quick glance out into the bedroom confirmed that he was still sitting at the vanity. Prick, she thought as she continued, “yeah, that’s exactly what it is. No one’s allowed to look at Tommy Shelby’s woman. No one except Tommy Shelby himself,” her voice dropped as she finished her statement, doing her best imitation of him.
Tommy had heard enough. He took one last drag from his cigarette before stamping it out in the ashtray he’d brought with him to the vanity. With a huff, he stood and made his way into the closet. (Y/N) had her back turned to him as she continued to look through her drawers.
“You’ve got it all figured out, eh?” he started, the tone of his voice immediately telling (Y/N) that she was correct in her guesses. “Think you know everything goin’ on in my mind?”
(Y/N) stopped what she was doing, standing up straight for a moment. She didn’t dare turn to face him though, not yet. Instead, she opened her top drawer and continued looking…even though said drawer housed her jeans and leggings.
“I’m talking to you,” Tommy was getting impatient now. It made (Y/N) grin.
“I’m looking for something to wear to bed,” she answered him, continuing her ‘search’.
“Oi,” he started, reaching out and taking hold of her arm, “look at me right now,” he practically demanded, spinning her to face him so that she’d have no choice. The sudden spin made her gasp, but she kept her countenance as her eyes locked onto his. She raised her eyebrows at him, so as if to say ‘what?’. He looked her over before continuing, “I’m not supposed to get upset when another man keeps eyeing me girl? Eh? I’m supposed to just let him stand there and do it?”
(Y/N) bit on her bottom lip, partly because of the tension that had risen between them and partly because she was right about his brooding. She reached out to take hold of the dress shirt that he was wearing, working on undoing its buttons. “So that was what was bothering you,” she commented, her eyes focused on his chest.
“It was,” Tommy husked.
“I’m surprised you didn’t do anything about it,” she continued.
“Wanted to punch his fuckin’ teeth in,” he admitted.
“I’m happy you didn’t,” she told him, finally looking up at him through her eyelashes, a hint of a smile present.
Tommy hummed in response, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip before he spoke, “but maybe I oughta do something…something that shows people you’re mine.”
(Y/N) watched as his eyes hastily darkened, and her skin felt like it was on fire as his hands came in contact with her thighs.
“The ring isn’t enough?” she questioned, placing her hands flat against his chest for a moment. Her eyes went to her left hand, where the sizable engagement ring Tommy’d given her normally sat. She’d taken it off to shower, but sometimes she swore she was still able to feel its weight on her finger.
“No,” he responded, shaking his head. The breath got caught in her throat as he then began slowly dragging his fingertips upwards, pressing them into her skin as they slipped underneath her towel to rest against her ass. “It’s clearly not.”
“Well do you have something in mind?” she - surprisingly - found her voice and asked, her lips rising into a coy smirk as her fingers continued working on his buttons.
A smirk grew on Tommy’s face as he heard her question, and he held her gaze just long enough for her to see it before he dropped his face into the crook of her neck. The breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat for a second time as he kissed a line up to her ear. “I was hoping you could think of something,” he mumbled against it before moving back down and continuing his ministrations. He kissed her sensitive skin a few times before nipping at it, the sudden change of feeling making her gasp. “Any ideas?” he asked her then, the smirk he was wearing evident against her skin.
(Y/N) couldn’t think straight anymore. She tipped her head back and let out a shaky breath as Tommy’s kisses trailed lower on her chest, meeting the skin just above where her towel was resting. His hands were roaming now, gliding over her ass and thighs, gripping at the skin with his fingers. Between his mouth and hands, she was sure there were marks by now. She managed to undo his final button amidst everything and let his shirt hang slack before she brought her fingers up to curl into the longer strands of hair atop his head.
“I have a few,” she finally found her voice and was able to answer his question, though her short statement came out as a quick breath.
Tommy hummed against her skin before his lips finally reached the spot that he knew drove her crazy. He made sure to kiss it lightly before pulling back. “Care to share them?” he asked, a wicked grin present.
(Y/N)’s eyes shot open the second his lips left her skin. Her eyes locked onto his as she sent him a deadpanned expression. He wasn’t about to build all of that up for nothing, was he? “I think you already know what they are,” she managed to get out just before his lips crashed against hers.
She wasted no time in anything else, hooking her legs around his waist the second he pressed his fingers into her skin and began to lift her up.
He spun, walking them out of the closet and over to the bed, where he dropped her down and made sure that there wouldn’t be a repeat of what happened earlier that evening. He needed the rest of the world to know that she was his.
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*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out
**Got a little carried away for the last Tommy blurb of the celebration…oops
MASTERLIST
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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months
Text
Irresistible {4} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: It’s your first race weekend and having to share Charles had never been so hard. It’s a good thing another driver tries to keep you company. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 3.5 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four
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“Who are you and what have you done with my Charles?”
“I’m still your Charles, ma biche,” he chuckled as he closed the door behind him and pulled his facemask off. A tired smile played at his lips as the first day of practices came to an end. 
You rolled your eyes and closed the distance between you, toying with the red sleeves of his race suit knotted at his waist. “That’s not who was out there,” you argued softly, teasing a barely-there kiss along his jawline. “They called you Il Predestinato.” You circled around him and kissed his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off of his body and onto your lips before you rose in your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you my predestined too?”
He turned and pressed his body along yours, caging you against the door he had entered. A smirk grew on those tempting lips and your stomach tightened at the look in his eyes. “I’m everything you need me to be.”
A knock pounded into your back and you closed your eyes as the stolen moment was taken away once more. Since arriving in Austria things had changed, subtle shifts that left you uncertain of what you were to him. You were constantly trying to reconcile the Charles out there and the Charles in here. Moving aside, you watched silently as he pulled his face mask back into place, hiding his pout in an instant,
“I’ll see you tonight,” he promised before turning the handle and slipping out of the room. He had a key to your suite and had used it in the dead of the night, sneaking across the hall from the suite he shared with Charlotte. You had never felt so alone.
You waited for Charlotte’s voice to fade away before leaving Charles’ private room and following the signs to the exit and out into the open air. The mask on your face was suffocating but it did give you some anonymity as you walked around the paddock in search of the car park. You should have asked for a map when you arrived because now you were forced to ask for directions. 
“Hey,” you greeted a stranger that you thought was one of the drivers Charles had mentioned. He was in the same kind of race suit that Charles wore, but his was dark blue and he didn’t look too pleased to have been interrupted.
“Alright,” he sighed as he draped an arm over your shoulder, “take the photo. I’m already late.”
“Photo?” You shrugged his arm off and stepped away. “I don’t even know who you are.”
The man’s blue eyes narrowed in doubt before he scoffed. “Sure. Okay. Then how can I help you?”
You narrowed your eyes back and mirrored his stance with your hands on your hips. “Don’t bother. I don’t want your help now.”
You turned and picked a random direction to search and marched off before quick steps followed. A hand grabbed your arm and you turned to face the dirty blond man who now looked apologetic. 
“It’s been a long day,” he said in what you assumed was the closest the man came to saying sorry. “I’m Max.”
You looked at Max’s hand and left it hovering between you as you crossed your arms. “You’re the one that Charles has been racing since you were kids?”
He dropped his hand and shrugged. “There’s a few of us, but yeah.”
“I’m Y/N.”
Recognition lit his icy eyes and his eyebrows lifted as he scanned you once over. “Charles’ step sister, right?”
You hated that term, the constant reminder of why you could never have what you wanted most. “Technically our parents aren’t married yet.”
Max shrugged, obviously not caring about the technicalities like you did. “So if you didn’t want a photo, or an autograph, what did you need help with?”
You looked down at your feet sheepishly and kicked at the loose stones. “Finding a way out of this maze.”
“Ah,” he chuckled. “It feels like that sometimes, but you’ll get used to it - most of the paddocks have the same layout. I’m leaving now too so you can walk with me.”
The car park was far emptier than when you arrived and you easily found the pristine white Ferrari that had been ready for you outside the hotel. Charles and Charlotte were driving an identical one, the two seater sports car limiting the ability to carpool. 
“You should probably have my number,” Max said as you reached the car and he opened the driver's door for you. “In case you get lost again.”
You bit your bottom lip as you thought about the consequences of exchanging numbers. Maybe this man didn’t get your heart racing with a single glance, but his eyes smiled when he did and he was quite funny as you found out along the walk. 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you admitted as your phone vibrated and you saw a message from Charles.
Seeming to sense it, Max chuckled and stepped back. “Because of your big brother?”
Your nose wrinkled in distaste and your lip curled with it. “Charles is not my brother.”
“Of course,” he said with a dip of his head. “You are not related at all.”
“Exactly.” Your words were too strong and you realised he had noticed it, so you did what you thought you needed to do and distracted him. “I guess it won’t hurt having your number if I get lost.”
Max’s eyes wrinkled with the smile beneath the mask and slipped his phone out of his pocket, trading it with yours to enter your numbers in. “It’s a matter of safety now, especially since Charles left you here alone.”
Ouch, that hurt your heart but he wasn’t lying. The Charles that the public saw was so vastly different from the man you had fallen for in the privacy of home. Everything was structured and curated for show, his eyes barely glancing your way when there were cameras in the room. He was on display, and so was Charlotte - they just lapped the attention. 
Maybe they were perfect for each other.
“Do you want to go to dinner?” Max asked, leaning in closer as his voice dropped. “Or are you planning to eat with Charles and Charlotte?”
This man knew your weakness no matter how coy he acted but the only question you had was ‘why’. “Is this some ploy to undermine your biggest rival?”
“My biggest rival is Lewis,” he corrected before he stepped back to check his phone, seeing that time passed too quickly when he was with you. “You are beautiful and I have enjoyed your company. Is that reason enough?”
You could feel your phone vibrating again but ignored it as you gave him your hotel name. “Pick me up at 8.”
You slipped into the leather seat before you could change your mind and Max closed the door, a smile warming his voice. “I’ll see you then.”
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It wasn’t a date, at least that’s what you told yourself. There was laughter and an openness between you and Max, but he wasn’t Charles and he would never be Charles. He couldn’t make you tremble with a delicate kiss, or make your heart skip a beat when your eyes connected. 
With lockdown and no reservation, dinner was a bust - even for a famous F1 driver. But the night didn’t end with one set back. Instead you had gone to a supermarket and Max grabbed cheese and crackers, fruit pastes and little cakes, and strawberries with chocolate. You had found yourself back at the Red Bull Ring, high up in the empty stands with a paper bag full of the snacks balanced on your lap. 
“What was it like before covid?” you asked as you looked out over the track. Workers still toiled about making sure everything was ready for tomorrow but most people had left a while ago.
“Busier.” 
You snorted a laugh. “Wow, never would have guessed that.”
Max laughed and leaned back in his seat, popping a chocolate strawberry in his mouth to chew while he contemplated. “It was livelier, even the teams have scaled back who travels with us. There’s hardly anyone in the factories. It’s like watching one of those zombie apocalypse movies.”
He actually sounded happy and you turned to see a small smile on his lips. “You’re weird,” you said with a laugh. “Most people wouldn’t be happy in a zombie apocalypse.”
He rolled his icy blue eyes and nudged you with his shoulder. “You’re weird.”
“And you have the comeback of a five year old.”
“Hey, I worked hard to come up with that,” he joked, making you laugh even more, the sound drifting out over the evening air. “I like that it’s quieter, there’s less media duties, less theatrics. We get here, we race, then we leave.”
“Ah, you’re antisocial!”
“I like socialising,” he said with a pointed look between you. “I just don’t give a shit about the ‘famous’ part we are meant to play. I’m a racer not an actor. There’s some that enjoy the spotlight though.”
You felt the dig at Charles but you swallowed down a response with a cracker slathered in sweet quince paste. After seeing him change the second he stepped out of the private plane with Charlotte on his arm there was no way to defend him.
“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “So if you’re not antisocial, what do you like doing other than racing?”
The sun set as conversation flowed but eventually you had to concede that it was time to leave the grandstand. This time when he walked you to the carpark you smiled as he opened the passenger door to his Aston Martin. 
“Are you going to tell Charles about our date?”
“Is that what this was?” Your smile negated the baiting words and his lips curled up in a smirk and he reached across the gearbox to hold your hand. 
“I think it was something I want to do again.”
“No,” you murmured as you looked out at the passing scenery, but your hand stayed in his. “I wasn’t planning on telling him.”
“You should know, nothing stays secret in F1 for long. With the cameras and the fans…the truth always comes out.”
The inside of your cheek hurt as you chewed on it nervously. You couldn’t tell if he was talking about him and the not-a-date date or you and Charles. “Thanks, Max. I’ll keep that in mind.”
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You hadn’t been able to sleep after Max had dropped you off at the hotel, and it seemed Charles hadn’t either. His green eyes were as wild as his untamed hair and he paced the living room of your suite. When the keycard beeped for his entry at 2am he had found you sitting on the couch, watching infomercials fill the room with white noise as you awaited his arrival. 
A photo had already been posted from the track. 
It was innocent enough. Max had noticed your skin prickle with goosebumps as the sun descended and draped his jacket over your shoulders so the date could keep going. It looked more intimate than it was. 
“I left you alone for two minutes and you’re out on a date with Max Verstappen!”
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t a date but the instant attack had a fire scorching in your belly and all the resentment that had been building since Charlotte interrupted your paradise exploded. 
“Exactly! You left me alone,” you shouted back, rising to your feet and stalking your way across the floor to him. Your forefinger screamed in protest as you poked his hard chest. “You left me. For her.”
Instant regret filled his eyes and his hands reached for you. “That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair, Charles,” you sighed as you opened the door, sending him a clear message as he saw his room number on the other side of the hall. “But it is what it is.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No, but I think it is best if you do.”
Charles grabbed the door and tugged it from your grasp, slamming it closed without a care for who would wake along the hotel corridor. “I’m not going until you want me to go,” he promised as he cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours. “I’m not going until you tell me you don’t love me.”
You knew your tongue was too heavy to ever voice those words and your lips too swollen from his kiss. He knew it, and he knew it well as he led you to the bedroom. “Tell me to go,” he dared as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against his body. “Tell me.”
“I can’t!” you growled, biting his bottom lip enough to draw a ragged gasp from him. You pushed him back as you reached the bed and he let himself fall upon the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. His eyes darkened and he ran a thumb over his tender lip while he watched you climb his body. “I want to, but I can’t. You’re mine, Charles. Il mio Predestinato.”
There was nothing gentle in the union of your bodies, it was merely a release of the tension and a distraction from what was to come when he returned to his room. You would never tell him how cold it was when he left your bed, how you clung to the pillow that held the scent of his shampoo, or how you cried until the sun broke the horizon. It was your burden to bear, and keeping it to yourself was proof of how much you loved him. You were saving him from the guilt he would feel with your pain.
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The reflection in the mirror was unrecognisable and you were happy when the steam of the shower erased the image in a cloud of condensation. Charles had messaged to say he was heading to the track but you hadn’t been able to reply because you weren’t sure if you were going to follow or not.
A frown formed when a knock sounded at your door and you checked your phone to see if he had messaged again. Maybe he knew your reservations and had come to pick you up. Hope filled you but it was quickly dashed when you opened the door and it wasn’t Charles waiting for you.
“Ouch,” Max said with a shake of his head. “Not who you were expecting?”
You tried to remove the disappointment that had fallen over your face and gave him an apologetic smile. “Not exactly. What are you doing here?”
“I thought I might save you from getting lost. Did you want a ride to the track?”
You looked down at the robe you were still wearing after the long shower in which you had contemplated all your life choices that led you to standing under the stream to hide your tears. “I’m not sure I want to go.”
Max looked down the hall before stepping inside and closing the door. “Because of Charles?”
“Not everything in my life revolves around Charles,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes.
“So what’s wrong then?” He chuckled after a moment of silence and nodded to himself. “You should come with me.”
“Why?”
Max shrugged innocently. “Well, I like spending time with you and you are obviously lonely too.”
Something, not a flutter or a spark, but something piqued your interest and your eyes lifted from the carpet. “You’re lonely?”
“I told you I’m not antisocial,” he laughed. “I miss having people around that don't want to talk about my job.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Why would anyone want to talk about your work? It’s the most boring sport I have ever seen.”
“See,” he smirked. “You’re the perfect fit.”
You felt a little lighter as you made the decision to join him. “Just for today,” you said with a pointed finger. “And if it’s boring then I’m leaving.”
Self assured cockiness that seemed a fundamental characteristic of all drivers settled on his features. “Deal. Now go get dressed, schat.”
Your nose wrinkled. “What did you call me?”
“Nothing bad.” His smile grew at your doubtful look and he nodded his head to the bedroom. “We should get going.”
You quickly changed but each layer of cloth made your stomach turn and you tried to take a calming breath before stepping out of the room. Charles had been more angry at the fact it was Max you had been photographed with than anything, so you knew he wasn’t going to be happy when you arrived with him. For a moment you were torn between hoping he didn’t find out and hoping he did.
Guilt smacked the smile off your face.
“I’m actually not feeling very well,” you muttered as you joined him, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your chest. “I don’t think I can go with you today.”
Max looked disappointed but nodded in acceptance and reached for the door. “You do look tired, schat. You should get some sleep.”
The weight lifted with the click of the door closing and you soon found yourself back beneath the blankets that still smelt of Charles.
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You woke to soft kisses on your shoulder and the tickle of stubble in your neck.
“Ma biche,” he whispered across your cheek.
“What time is it?” You wondered if you had slept all day but given how bright it was outside, Charles couldn't have finished his work for the evening.
“1.30,” he answered as he snaked an arm over your waist and curled his body behind yours. “Qualifying is in two hours.”
He relinquished his tight embrace to let you roll over and face him, seeing his eyes close with a tired sigh. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”
“Shh, I don’t want to think about her right now,” he hushed softly and he stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “I wish we could just go home. I miss the days we spent like this.”
You sighed longingly and leaned into his touch. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
He smiled sadly and kissed you sweetly as he drew your leg over his hip. “Please come with me. I need you by my side, Bambi, cheering for me.”
Your fingers danced down his sponsored shirt, tracing the brands that aided his team before you reached his belt. His tongue peeked out between his lips and wet them as you unclasped the buckle and dared him. “Make me.”
Charles acted as if he didn’t have anywhere important to be, like qualifying. He took his time as if he hadn’t felt your body beneath him in years. You felt his kiss on every inch of your skin and your head spun after falling drunk on the high he gave you.
“Please come with me,” he begged as the weight of his spent body collapsed upon you, better than any comfort blanket could.
“I suppose you made a decent effort to persuade me,” you teased as you brushed his damp hair back from his forehead.
“Decent,” he echoed with a laugh, both of you moaning at the sensation it had with him still inside you. The feeling subsided as he withdrew and saw the time, a seriousness falling upon him. “We should shower and go, ma biche.”
“Tell me it’s going to get easier,” you whispered before he could pull away completely.
“It’s going to get easier,” he swore. “I will make it easier for you, my love.”
And he did.
After the race, Charlotte ‘chose’ to return to Monaco for the rest of her summer break and Charles brought his suitcase across the hall to your room. He kept his promise and you kept yours, cheering for him from inside the Ferrari garage.
“You found your way back,” Max said in passing at the following race, one of the rare times he found you without Charles.
“Yup, no more getting lost,” you chuckled, though you were sure you were talking about different things. “You were right, all paddocks are the same.”
“Good,” he said with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But if you do get lost, or find yourself alone…you have my number, schat.”
You nodded with a sense of shyness and smiled at your feet. “I found out what that means.”
“Do you want me to stop calling you that?”
“I don’t know.”
His smile finally reached his eyes and you realised you should have said yes, but you were being selfish. “Well, when you do know…call me.”
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isolophilian · 5 months
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Leah is putting EVERYTHING into her Annabeth and i love her for it. her little expressions, her demeanor, even her stance. she's playing 4D chess and she's already predicted the outcome. she's lived a 100 years in a 12 year old body. her effortless banter with Percy, her single raised eyebrow. her taking the lead, her vocal intonation implying her knowledge. "game on." "im sorry to hear it." "so we're gonna need a new plan." she was made for this role
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