#this fucking fic is a household name
Text
Just read the newest lucemond hunger games au. It has only one chapter yet but the FERALNESS THE UNHINGNESS I JUST-
I was reading another hunger games au before this (any marauders stans that want to cry with me over crimson rivers?) and I can feel how this is going to become my personality for a while
#unhinged lucerys is my religion#he and aemond are both feral in this and I love it so much#there is nothing like feral lucerys#can you believe most of the tags I use for lucemond pop up regularly?#i barely have to type unhinged and about 7 tags pop up#lucemond#lucerys velaryon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x lucerys velaryon#hotd#and hp ig#jegulus#marauders#marauders era#crimson rivers#this fucking fic is a household name#miss ma’am chloe ament wrote a song based on it#i fear for my life#you know it’s gonna make you cry if it has it’s own fan base#fanfiction#ao3
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Random SOC Trivia I Gathered On My Reread
I'll be using this for fics, but it's fun just to read!
Jesper does not hold alcohol well (though this is according to Kaz, who is not exactly impartial)
Wijnstraat, Nemstraat, Havenstraat, Ammberstraat are all street names if you want em
Van Eck has been involved in trying to clean up the Barrel; pious. (Allegedly pious, I doubt he really is)
1/5 Van Eck (or general Kerch trading?) vessels are lost at sea
Kaz arrested three times at ten, twice at eleven, once at fourteen. Does stints in jail but it does not say prison (ppl assume he's been to Hellgate / another prison but I don't think so. He'd never have shut the fuck up about it if he had; I assume the Stadhall Jail)
Kaz's cane is lead-lined. I wasn't sure if this was canon or fanon
Kaz runs book on prize fights, horses, and chance games. Floor boss at crow club since fifteen-ish. Youngest to run a betting shop and has doubled the profits.
Gambling halls: Treasure Chest, Golden Bend, Weddell's Riverboat, Silver Garter
West Stave brothels: The Blue Iris, The Forge, The Obscura, the Willow Switch, the House of Snow
Van Aakster is the widow mercher who sees Nina to ease his grief
Inej likes orange cakes in white paper
Black Tips tattoo is a hand with first and second fingers cut at the knuckle, Razorgulls is 5 birds in wedge formation
Nina Jesper and Kaz definitely all have the crow and cup; the others don't
Jordie seems to like books
ridderspel and spijker are arcade games
Bilge, clams, and wet stone smell in the Barrel (per Retvenko)
Kaz definitely is partial to dogs; Smeet's hounds and the grey dog the Hertzoon household had, the windup dogs, the metaphors. He loves a dog metaphor sorry ur not real babycakes you'd have loved thematic web weaving posts
Geldspin is the cotton mill in Zierfoort, Firma Allerbest is a cannery. Both in Alys' name
Wylan was 8 when Marya 'died'
the black veil tomb is carved like an ancient cargo ship
3 flying fish on a grave: government. Palm trees and snakes: spices.
Inej's mother braids her hair with orange ribbons (colour of persimmons)
University a series of buildings built around the Boekcanal and joined by Speaker's Bridge (where people debate and/or drink). Boeksplein four libraries built around a central courtyard and the Scholar's Fountain
Shipping container at third harbour is a Liddie hideout; Jam Tart House is an old hotel near the slat that the Razorgulls use
Long scar across Kaz's right knuckle
Violating contracts and interfering with the market can get you hanged in Kerch; same sentences as for murder (this is. Insane)
Haskell holds court with his mates at the Fair Weather Inn every week
Belendt is the second oldest Kerch city and sits on the Droombeld River
Jesper was 7 when Aditi died
Inej has an uncle (who seems to have some sort of ringmaster role) and cousins; Hanzi and Asha
Kaz convinced a locksmith in Klokstraat that he was the son of a wealthy merchant who highly valued his collection of priceless snuffboxes, and that's how he knows what locks the rich are using
Hubrecht Mohren, Master Thief of Pijl, who Kaz doesn't appear to think much of; one of Haskell's old cronies
Martin Van Eck, Wylan's great great grandfather, was a ship's captain, brought back a big shipment of spices from Eames Chin and started the Van Eck fortune
Kaz and Jesper (+ other Dregs boys) taught Inej to fight
Kaz and Jordie are from a town near Lij, as per the 'Johannus Rietveld' exposition, but Lij is seemingly the closest major city/county so it's easier to just say they're from Lij lol
The last time the Council of Tides appeared in public was 25 years prior to CK
Kaz found Filip running a monte game on Kelstraat; he also got the clerks who turned over fake info, the fake attorney, the man who gave them free hot chocolate
The spelling of Zentzbridge lapses to Zentsbridge, not sure which is right or if they're actually separate bridges or if there's a lot of wrong quotes floating around lol
Dryden house symbol is the golden wheat sheaf bound with a blue ribbon; Van Eck is the red laurel but we knew that
Kaz taught himself finance and gambling hall rules
Church of Barter roof is copper and long has turned green
Church of Barter built around the First Forge / The Mortar, which is a flat lump of rock that's supposedly Ghezen's altar
Ghezendaal Hospital is. Idk. a hospital. Just thought ppl might want the name
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓: 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
God Isn't Here
【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Bad Boy Hongjoong wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?
『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 3.70k
-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slice of Life. Toxic family. Smut. ANGST. Sad Stuff.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: BadBoy!Hongjoong x Religious!GoodGirl!Reader
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Heavy religious background. Mention of a cult like life. Lots of trauma. Pet names. Swearing. Corruption and slight manipulation. Thigh riding. Dry humping. Oral. Crying turned to sobbing. (I'm sorry this is a shit show). Fingering. Sight sir kink (I can't help myself). When I say this is messy....this is MESSY, FILTHY, DIRTY. Breast play. Clothing is literally being ripped apart. Slight ass play and mention of anal. Hickies. Mention of sex toys. There is way too much dirty talk cause Hongjoong has a filthy mouth. Use of the name slut. So much sobbing please forgive me I was in a mood. Cowgirl. Unprotected sex. Loss of virginity. Spanking.
Thank you, @historyinmybed , for requesting Hongjoong. Also, thank you to my anony for requesting the plot ♡♡♡
Note: I want to point out that this fic this is no way hating on any type of religion. I came from a very religious household, so I get the idea of internal hatred to yourself and 'god'. But please take this fic with a grain of salt. Believe what you want to believe and practise what you wish to practise. No one should tell you what you can or can not worship. That's your life. Not there's.
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List
Perfection. That was what your family described you as. Their perfect little daughter. Naturally pretty, above-average smarts and a people person. Well, that was what your parents dressed you as. They weren't half wrong to be fair. You wanted nothing more than to be the sweet daughter that your parents wanted. But once your heart fell for the mysterious man that stumbled in the back of your bookshop one day. Perfect was no longer the description to view you as.
Rough, mysterious, heartbreaking bad boy. He looked like he jumped straight out of a dark romance novel. He was everything you were not and when he laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to know you, have you, hold you. To fuck the innocence out of you. But he proceeded with caution. Not wanting to scare you away. He was known as a player, someone that fucked around and partied most weekends…
Yet he changed.
Changed for you. He dotted on you. Followed you around like a loving puppy that found his favourite thing in the world. Which he had. You were his everything and the love of his life and he would do anything for you. And he made sure you knew that every chance he could. Bringing you flowers to your work or gifting you with a home-cooked meal even though he wasn’t the greatest cook. He wanted you to know that he loves you. Forever and always. And when you were cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment―the apartment your parents didn’t know you had―one night, Hongjoong couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He tried not to do something you didn’t want but fucking his fist to the thought of you was no longer working. He needed the real deal. And tonight he tried his luck. His touches were slow, sensual. You almost didn’t notice them while you were so focused on the new show Fionna and Cake in front of you. But when his fingertips grazed the end of your sleep shorts, your head snapped to him seeing he was completely focused on you, not even paying attention to the TV.
You gulped looking at him with such wide innocent eyes. The tingle in your gut made you confused but it also intrigued you, wanting to know what it was but you were also scared it might be considered unholy. You see, you were fighting an inner battle. Yes, you had left your family's practice and ran away with Hongjoong after he convinced you of your family's toxic lifestyle. You wouldn’t ever consider your life being involved around a cult-like community but yet it was all you knew. And when you opened a bookshop in your hometown your parents made sure to monitor the shop like hawks but neither of them would have thought someone like Hongjoong would stumble into the doors of the sweet establishment. Without even realizing, that day you starting losing your faith in god, if you even had any. It was just a way of life to you and you didn’t know any better back then but now you explore the world day by day with your sweet lover boy and god definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.
“W-what are you doing?” As if you couldn’t sound any more cute than you did right this minute. His eyes darkened, sucking in a breath as he watched you squirm. Your doe eyes watched him intensely, your hand snaking down to grab his, holding him still. Did you really not know what teasing was? Then again you didn’t know most things until he came along. When he first kissed you, he still remembers the shocked expression you made and how you slapped his chest slightly saying ‘We aren’t supposed to do that.’ But now all you do is kiss him. Morning kisses, hello and goodbye kisses. If you walked into the room he would grab you for a smooch. He loved kissing you and even though you would not admit it, you craved them too.
“I’m just wanting to touch you, Darling.” His soft voice sent shivers down your spine. You gulped, not knowing what exactly he meant. You gave him a confused expression, and it finally clicked in his head that you didn’t know what was going on. “Can I touch you, baby?”
You smiled letting his hand slip into your own, tilting your head “But you are touching me Joongie.”
Oh fuck, you look so goddamn cute and it made him want to pin you to the couch and fuck you into next week. He wanted, needed to teach you this side of life you didn’t know about. Take it slow, Hongjoong repeated to himself, placing his hand free hand on top of yours. He closed the distance between your lips but just kept enough space to let you pick whether or not to actually kiss him. And when you gave him a simple smile before sealing your soft lips on his, he took it as a green light to push you further.
“I mean touch sensually...” He peaked your lips again. “Touch you where the ache it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth as both of his hands got free, letting his finger graze your top thigh before slowly slipping towards your inner thigh. Your eyes never left his, eyebrows knotting in anticipation. Your brain was screaming at you, saying what you were about to do was sinful and bad. But your body craved to see what he could do. Could he really help take that ache that pulses in your stomach? The idea of giving yourself to Hongjoong more than frightened you… it excited you.
“What are you gonna do to me?” You didn’t mean to sound so seductive but Hongjoong drank every word you spoke. And the way you said it would have any man eating out of your hand, yet you didn’t even notice. Merely thinking you were simply asking an innocent question.
“Oh, Darling.” He dipped his fingers further up your thigh helping you open your legs without a thought, too focused on what Hongjoong might say. And he thought, for maybe two point five seconds on what he might say. Does he ease in and take it slow like his brain has been repeating for the past month or does he just drop his filter and see how you react?
He chose to fuck around and find out….
“I want to put my fingers deep inside your pussy.” Your eyes widened at the lewd words that spilled off your lover's tongue. “I want to know what it feels like to fuck you, make love to you.” His fingertips graze your covered core and it makes you jump, whimpering out. You gripped his wrist trying to stop him but you didn’t move him away, too curious to see what he’d do. “Would you let me see what your cunt feels like angel?”
“Y-you can't make l-love to me yet. We aren't married.” That was what you took out of his whole confession, man has got his work cut out for him. He had to laugh a low deep grumble making you shiver. His fingers were still playing with your covered core, trying to pull at the buttons of your pants. “We haven't decided if we want kids yet.”
“Kids?” Okay, now he was the one confused, “Who said anything about kids, darling?”
“Y-you know…” damn now you feel stupid, of course, this was another thing your parents taught you wrong. You tried to learn things on your own, only just recently finding out what a male privates were called. You felt so small in this outside world and you tried your hardest not to let Hongjoong see just how closed off you were growing up but sometimes it slips out, just like now. And the only way to get out of this was to explain yourself. “You only mate to have bare children. No pleasure or love… it’s a ritual that a married couple preform to conceive kids.”
Hongjoong tried to not look shocked but then again he really wasn't. When he found out you were living in cult-like conditions he did everything in his power to get you out of that situation whether you liked him to or not. He couldn’t just leave such a sweet thing like you to be devoured by the jaws of a sick bastard who played a so-called god. “My sweet, sweet baby. There is so much more to love-making than bearing children. Do you want me to show you?”
He gave you one last slow kiss, holding your cheek with his free hand keeping you in place. You sigh in the kiss, feeling a kind of relief and safety. All he wanted to do was keep you comfortable and not do anything you were unsure of. But now you wanted to give back. Give back to his kindness and understanding. You wanted to know, to know what it felt like to be with someone completely. But your mind kept playing the idea that you were betraying your god. You were fighting an inner battle and you didn’t know what to do. “Y-You can s-show me Joongie.”
He shifted his weight, turning to look at you straight on. He placed both hands on either side of your face before asking again. “I need you to say yes baby. Do you want this? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You might have said that a little too quickly for your liking but Joong. Oh, he’d been waiting for this moment and it couldn’t be any more perfect. Grabbing your hips he pulls you up onto his lap. Your face was flustered a bright red. Your hands instantly gripped onto his shoulders as his own snakes under your loose top, feeling your bare tummy. He kisses you on your lips, then a peck on your cheek, then jaw. Before moving down to your neck. His hot tongue licked a long strip against your skin making you shiver, digging your fingers into his shirt. He chuckled feeling your hips wiggle, trying to subconsciously relieve the ache. He held your hip with his right hand, helping you move slowly, letting you take control, for the moment. He wanted to ease you in, let you find your rhythm. “J-joongie I f-feel.”
“Feel what baby? What do you feel?” He pulled away to look at you, using his free hand to slowly move down your navel before landing just above your core. Your eyes stayed closed, rocking your hips slowly. Your clit was brushing against your jeans just right and it was sending your head into a spin. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling but it felt, good. Right, almost. And then he cupped your pussy making you jump.
“I feel hot… I think I-I’m sweating d-down….” You looked down, seeing his hand holding your core. He looked down to, knowing exactly what you were saying. Chuckling against he rubbed his two middle fingers along your covered slit.
“It’s not sweat Darling. It’s called cum. It comes out of you when you’re feeling good.” he continued to rub you making your mouth fall agape slightly. He leaned towards your ear kissing the top of your neck before whispering. “and it tastes delicious too. Can you give me a taste baby?”
You hesitantly nodded, “Yes, but is…” He looks at you in your wide eyes. “ W-what about g-gods way…”
“Fuck god. He doesn’t know a good thing if it was staring at him in the face.” His voice was laced with aggression. But his lips against your neck were soft, gentle. “Forget god, baby. It’s just you and me.”
You and me…. Something he has said to you since you met. Sneaking out he always said it was you and him against the world and the day you had packed your bag―with what little you had―and left while your parents were out you knew he’d be there for you. You still wonder if your parents even read the note you left them. But then again they most likely would have thrown it away, not caring for a sinner like you anymore. “I don’t know if I c-can…Hongjoong…”
He stopped. For a moment. Anger was surging through him. Your family fucked you up so much and all he wanted to was find each and every one of those preachers and kill them where they stood. He wanted to protect you, hold you. Love you. “Yes you can angel. You can do anything you want. You are so strong.”
And with that you kiss him, taking in a big breath in through your nose. He pulled away first making you chase his lips but as his body sinks onto the floor, you watch with curiosity. He sat on his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His hands find the buttons on your jean shorts, helping you loosen them before ultimately slipping them off. Everything was happening so fast yet so slowly as well. your body was shaking, feeling exposed without your pants but as his gaze switched from yours to your core between your legs, you couldn’t help but whimper. “Hongjoong…”
“It’s okay baby I’m going to make you feel good. I promise.” He lent in pushing your panties to the sides and finally getting a good view of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, you are so pretty baby.” he wasted no time in licking a long strip along your folds making you make a high-pitched noise that was music to Hongjoong’s ears. He got to work, suckling, biting and tending to your core. You had thrown your head back against the couch, grabbing your lover's thick dark hair and spreading your legs wider for him without realizing. A strange feeling was brewing in your lower tummy and you couldn’t find the words to explain it. You were feeling all types of emotions, happiness, guilt, hatred, lust and everything in between. And then Hongjoong took his fingers against your core making you jump.
“Hongjoong, w-wait…” But your lover didn’t listen cause he knew you’d just start talking about god again. He needed you to listen to him and if words weren't going to work. Maybe a demonstration would. His mouth cages your clit while his finger begins to sink into you slowly and you felt electricity surge through you. Everything you did for your parents. The little girl that “raised right” was slowly slipping away and it was terrifying you. Tears started prickling down your face, feeling so good but so guilty at the same time. Why did your parents have to do what they did to you? Why couldn’t they have raised you normally? Were you could make your own mistakes. You hated them. You hated everything. Everything except Hongjoong. “G-god…”
You didn’t know what you wanted to say but you knew he wasn’t going to listen, in fact, he snapped instead making a chill pool inside you. “God isn’t her baby, now let me have my meal. Got that?”
“Yes sir…” You cried, feeling him put another finger inside you.
“Fuck say that again…” He groan against your clit.
“S-Sir…” You obeyed, feeling his fingers thrusted in a harsh pace making you scream out, tears pouring out of you more and more with your mouth spilling out saliva onto your chin.
“That’s right baby. This is my pussy yeah? I get to play with her―Fuck her whenever I want. Do you understand?” He chuckled, nibbling on your puffy nub.
“Y-yes sir. Please, have me whenever you’d like. I’ll be good. I promise. Fffuuck!!” You’ve never sworn before but it felt like a word needed for this occasion. A band in you snapped, feeling yourself clench around Joong’s fingers. He slowed down until he came to a stop, but not pulling his fingers out just yet. He had to see your face, the way your nose scrunched up when his thumb pressed firmly on your clit and fingers slowly slipping from inside you helping your ride out. Hearing you swear was single-handedly the sexiest thing you could do. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist so he could pull you up making you stand. But your legs didn’t want to work so he hand to hold you up.
“Don’t worry baby. You’re always good baby. My sweet girl.” he pecked your nose making you smile. He rubbed away some of your tears with his left thumb. You both stood there for a moment letting you catch your breath. But without you noticing he undid his belt and jean buttons, shaking his jeans off. You only then noticed when a hard object poked your tummy. Looking down you see his appendage under his boxers. You had to gulp worried as to how it might fit inside you. He licked his lips watching you inspect him, he had no shame, slipping his thumb under the band of his boxer before pulling it down, letting his cock spring free.
You gasped seeing his dick whack his navel. Its red angry tip leaking out some pre-cum and twitching just at the thought you’d touch it. You looked back at his eyes with wide doe eyes, almost silently asking what was going to happen next. He swung you both around so his back was facing the couch before taking a seat on it. He pulled you along letting you take a seat on his lap. The feeling of his hot cock against your pussy made you clench around nothing. Your nerves were shot and you were shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement.
“Ready?” He simply asked, snaking his hands under your top tugging on the fabric slightly. You nodded, answering with a small yes before he took the end of your shirt and ripped it down the middle. You gasped, moaning without thinking. Your chest was suddenly exposed to him, leaving you completely bare for him. He had a sadistic smirk painting his features, leaning down he licked your left nipple making you whimper out his name. Your hands found his shoulders, letting him attack your chest with harsh red and purple marks. His hands that layed on your hips moved behind you. One grabbed a hand full of your ass while the other one glided toward your asshole. He put pressure against your hole and it made you wiggle in his grasp. He lived for your reaction.
“Sensitive Doll? I wonder what I would feel like to fuck this tight little ass too? Hmm.” His dirty words made you feel filthy in the best way. His thumb slipped into your puckered hole for a moment sending a new feeling through your system. Anything he did was pushing your buttons correctly. It was like he knew your body better than you did. “You’re just a dirty girl, aren’t you? Wanting to be fucking in the ass? Bet I could fuck this pussy while I have a pretty dildo up your ass. Hmm. Would you like that? You want to be my little slut?”
“I-I’m not dirty…I..I..” You didn’t know what to say feeling conflicted in his words. But he couldn’t care, your body was reacting perfectly to his words and that’s all he needed.
“Don’t worry baby. I’ll fuck you nice and full. And then we can go shopping. I plan on showing you all the pleasure you’d been missing out on.” his laugh was lewd, almost cruel sounding and you couldn’t help but moan in response. He lifted you up slowly without you taking much notice, only focusing on his finger thrusting in your asshole softly. It was only when a sharp pain started forming in your front you snapped your eyes open looking down.
“F-fuck…Hongjoong!!” he helped you sink down slowly until you had him completely nestled inside your aching cunt. You were crying again. But it was different this time. The pain was only slight, you actually didn’t mind the pain. But it was the value of what you had just done. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you sobbed. Crying from all the frustration. All the anger you had against your parents. Against your community. You had now completely turned your back on the god you once worshipped. All your life learning certain things was for nothing.
“Shhhh. It’s okay.” he rubbed your back, feeling a tingle in his gut. God, you felt so good, your pussy was clenching him perfectly but he felt sorry for you. You had lived only one way and he came in and changed your life in a blink of an eye and it wouldn't had been easy one bit for you.
He had made a promise to himself that night. While his hips started to move and your body started to stutter with him. While his lips were on yours or sucking sharply on your neck. While his hands smacked your plump ass helping you ride his cock at a desperate pace. And when he bent you over the edge of the couch so he could fuck you from behind while you creamed all over his cock for the fourth time. He was going to love you, now and forever. He was going to teach you new things every day and always make sure you were the best version of yourself. And he was going to also fuck you in every room of this house…
That last part might of just been more for his sake but it’s the thought that counts.
- ♥︎
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez reaction#ateez reactions#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez scenario#ateez x female reader#ateez x reader#ateez x reader smut#ateez fic#atz hongjoong#atz reactions#atz smut#atz fluff#atz drabbles#atz hard hours#atz imagines#atz scenarios#atz x reader#atz fanfic#kinktober#kinktober 2023#hongjoong fluff#hongjoong smut#ateez hongjoong#kim hongjoong#ja3hwa
788 notes
·
View notes
Text
Partition (Inspired by Beyonce & Ana Huang)
Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Reader
Summary: Frustrated from her arranged husband’s lack of attention towards her, Y/N Y/L/N bursts in a plathora of words spewed to her arranged husband and elected President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow about his lack of care and affection towards his own wife despite Coriolanus literally being married to Y/N. Both parties being frustrated with no means to give their stances up, explode in a world of dirty, nasty sex in their limo on the way to former president’s son Felix Ravinstill’s dinner.
Fic Type: Smut (NSFW) 18+ with angst, Arranged Marriage trope
Warnings: infidelity, cum licking, heavy kiss, degrading but also lots of praise, lmk if there’s anything I missed but this is vvv nasty
Word Count: 2.6k
Inspo: Heavily inspired by Chapter 27 of King of Wrath by Ana Huang (my FAVORITE book of all time) from the Kings of Sin Series and the song Partition by Beyonce (an absolute GEM of a song).
Disclaimer: About 90% of the sex scenes are directly from said chapter, so credits and the idea itself all go to Ana Huang and her team. The blowjob and first sex scene was from Ana Huang’s book and the last scene was a slightly altered version from me. This is basically an altered version of Ana Huang’s book idea turned into a version for Coriolanus and Y/N if they were in an arranged marriage.
I do not own Coriolanus Snow or Y/N Y/L/N (cuz it’s you, boo). All credits go to Suzanne Collins and her team. Song credits also go to Beyonce and her team.
I do not allow my works to be republished or translated under any circumstances. Any instances of this happening and YOU WILL BE BLOCKEDDD.
Also, ageless and empty blogs will be BLOCKED as this is a 18+ fic. Report my fics and you’re blocked cuz if u don’t like it, LEAVEEEE.
Y/D/N = Your Dad’s Name (so sorry to anyone with daddy issues cuz me too)
The marriage of Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow was not one born out of love. Their fathers, Y/D/N Y/L/N and Crassus Snow planned for their union before fighting in the war to strengthen and unite the families in a pursuit for higher power. Both Y/N and Coriolanus grew up around similar environments, both being in the same friend group, meeting each other in birthday parties, visiting each other’s penthouses for playdates and as of late, running into each other in the Academy as they receive their degrees during graduation.
Now that both Y/N and Coriolanus are of marriage age, their fathers immediately drew up the arranged marriage with a contract, binding the two young adults for life, their families growing stronger as a result of their agreement. Coriolanus and Y/N have never disliked nor liked each other as they each had their own squad of people to hang out with, Y/N always being around Arachne Crane and Clemensia Dovecote while Coriolanus was closer with Felix Ravinstill and Festus Creed, to each their own being disgusted with the opposite sex in fear of cooties as that was common with young children, which was not a surprise in the way the two supposed love birds navigate their marriage in a meaningless way behind closed doors when it was the absolute opposite in public.
Y/N Y/L/N never felt that Coriolanus’s indifference was a severe one until he started to bring home mistresses not long after they’ve moved in during the late wave of his candidacy. He started to fuck his way through his female staff as Y/N was tortured with hearing the sound of his groans and the moaning of the women he summoned as a means to relieve his stress. Y/N was heartbroken as she felt that they had this mutual understanding that they would always be loyal to one another even through the circumstances of their relationship, Coriolanus clearly did not feel the same.
The couple usually kept their interactions minimal in their household as they live in seperate bedrooms, only to come down to eat dinner, choosing to have the rest of their meals seperate during the day. As Coriolanus’s relationship with these women grew to be more common, Y/N did not have the appetite to cater to Coriolanus’s ego further as she skipped her meals with him, instructing the staff to send her meals to her room instead as she laid on her large queen bed, heart breaking and face puffy with tears streaking down her face over his infidelity. Even though she did not exactly feel for him, she at least cared enough about him as a trusted partner throughout their arrangement.
The atmosphere between the two grew more and more tense each day as Y/N sobbed behind closed doors, trying her best to muffle her cries as Coriolanus worked next door. Coriolanus, oblivious to his wife’s muffled crying, doesn’t notice her strange behavior until that night where Y/N left her bedroom door ajar and Coriolanus was finally able to see how hurt Y/N had been over his infidelity. Coriolanus was shocked to see for himself how miserable his wife had been over his actions, him originally choosing to bring in mistresses to encourage her to confront him. He moved away, however, ensure of what to do next as he left her alone.
The next day, one of Y/N’s female staff, particularly one of Coriolanus’s women, had informed Y/N of an event she needed to attend that day, former president’s son Felix Ravinstill’s dinner. With her puffy face, she nodded as she started to get ready. Y/N felt dejected as she got ready, feeling as if she was going through the motions as several maids filed in to help her with her makeup and dress. Y/N wore a sullen frown on her face as she stared into the distance of her reflection in the vanity, wondering how and why she agreed to this marriage in the first place. “I will get out of this place once and for all…” she thought as she started to navigate a plan to be free of the ruse of a marriage.
Coriolanus waited for Y/N outside of their mansion as Y/N appeared, her eyes still puffy although covered with the power of makeup. He extended his arm as she took it with caution, both of them stepping in the limo silently. Once they got in, Y/N stared off to the window of the limo as they drove away from the mansion. Coriolanus, apprehensive over his wife’s indifference, suddenly speaks “You know, you could smile a little?” he said with a timid one of his own. Y/N’s mood suddenly darkened as she responded in an even more dejected and hoarse voice “How could I? Please, dear husband, demonstrate how I could smile when my only other partner in this joke of a marriage brings home other women and fucks them for me to hear.”
Coriolanus, taken aback by how dejected his wife’s voice was, responded, “Well I’m sorry if you feel offended by my lack of attention towards you as of late. We were never exclusive in the first place, our fathers planned this for us.” Y/N looked incredulously at her husband, “Exclusive?! What part of an arranged marriage and a contract doesn’t speak not exclusive?! Are you joking right now, Coriolanus? Because if you are, no ones laughing.” Y/N sighed, “I though you were smarter than this, Snow. I truly never imagined that my presence dissatisfies you so much that you had to turn to other women to satify your needs.” Y/N said as her eyes started to tear up again. She felt so exasperated, “There’s no point in crying now.. He clearly doesn’t care about me.” She thought as Coriolanus examines her face.
Coriolanus felt horrible that his wife felt like this towards him. He truly did not mean to go this far, only planning to give her a little push. He turned towards his wife, and suddenly grabbed both of her hands in his own, stroking them in a delicate way, as someone would with a precious porcelain doll. “I’ve never hated you, wife. I merely wanted to give you a push in this arrangement since we both did not agree to this. I wanted to encourage you to be closer to me, but how could I when you seem so distant all the time?” Coriolanus sighed before continuing, “I’ve loved you ever since I met you, but I’ve never been.. brave enough to confess that to you.”
Y/N was left astonished as she looked at Coriolanus, “Perhaps.. I’ve also fallen for you during our arrangement, yet I’ve been in denial of my own feelings for a while. I’ve always thought you were quiet handsome, husband.” Y/N said with a small smile of her own. Coriolanus looked at her, surprised by her confession, before Y/N suddenly pressed her lips to his in a rough, desperate kiss that had both of them clinging to each other for dear life. Coriolanus’s hands were soon entangled in her hair as Y/N clutched her hands on his blazer. Their mouths fought desperately against each other, teeth clashing and theirs tongues molding together like a perfect puzzle.
Their heavy makeout session resumed as the limo came to a stop. Traffic in the Capitol was not uncommon, but at this pace, they might as well reach Felix Ravinstill’s mansion at a time where cows are able to fly. The couple broke off after a while, Coriolanus staring down at Y/N’s V-cut dress as she straddled him and kissed his jaw before rising to give him a deep kiss. As they broke off from their kiss, Y/N’s hand trailed down Coriolanus’s stomach as she made her way towards his groin.
Coriolanus groaned as Y/N’s hand lightly touched his aching erection. Y/N continued to kiss his neck as she freed his erection from his pants. His cock was huge and hard, dripping with pre-cum and begging to be touched. Y/N slid off of her seat down to her knees, where she started to lick around the head of his cock while gripping the base with both her hands, working towards kneading his huge, hard balls.
As she gripped the base of his cock, she slid his dick down her throat until her mouth hit the point where her eyes watered. Her eyes started to tear up as Coriolanus stroked her head, encouraging her to go on. Even with her mouth engulfing his cock with desperate need, there was still a good two to three inches between her mouth and the base of his cock.
Coriolanus’s groans began to sound louder as Y/N tasted the salty sweetness of his pre-cum as she adjusted to a slow and steady pace. In and out. Slowly becoming faster, harder as she sucked and bobbed her head up and down his enormous length.
Coriolanus’s hand gripped her hair as the limo went over a bump in the road, forcing his cock to go deeper down her throat. Y/N spluttered as her chokes and gurgles filled the car’s sex driven atmosphere as her noises fluttered with his groans perfectly, creating a sex induced symphony.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Coriolanus groaned as Y/N looked up, her eyes blurry with tears from taking him so deep, “That feels so good.” Pride rushed through Y/N as she looked up to see Coriolanus’s face etched with pleasure.
As she looked up towards him, his eyes were closed as his head tipped back with pleasure, the column of his throat exposing one of the most sexy Adam’s apple she’s ever seen. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his breathing shuddering as Y/N’s head bobbed up and down his dick faster. His hands buried in her hair as her tongue swept the underside of his cock.
She increased her pace, and just as she thought he was about to come, Coriolanus pulled her hair back and lifted her onto his lap as he crushed his mouth onto hers, their tongues clashing together in a never ending battle of sexual tension broken in a dam of hot, heavy sex.
As their mouths dominated against each other, his arousal met hers as she ground against it, desperate for more. Harsh groans echoed from the both of them, each groan vibrating down each other’s spine in a sex-induced fuel. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Coriolanus heaved as his mouth trailed a line of passionate kisses down Y/N’s neck.
He clenched his teeth on the strap of her dress and he gently pulled it down, exposing her chest as he then raised her hips so he could push her underwear to the side. Y/N didn’t have time to catch her breath as Coriolanus was inside her, filling her to the brim with only one thrust.
Y/N only had a few seconds to adjust before Coriolanus gripped her hips and slammed her down again on his cock, hard, as he drove into her like a beast in heat, slamming in and out of her, up and down. Again and again, faster and harder, until her toes curled, her knuckles white from how hard she was holding him to stay steady as the pressure built inside her and neared its breaking point.
She clung to him, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she trembled while trying to match his rhythm. Y/N bounced up and down, grinding her clit against him on every stroke.
“Just like that,” Coriolanus growled harshly as his teeth grazed across Y/N’s nipple, his breath making her shudder as it created goosebumps on her skin. “Bounce on that dick like the good girl I know you are.”
A loud moan emerged from Y/N’s throat as Coriolanus’s mouth closed on her pebbled nipple and sucked. A huge slick of wetness gushed around them as their arousal dripped everywhere, around her thighs, his leg, and onto the seat of the limo.
“You’re making such a big mess, darling.” Coriolanus groaned while looking at his wife with a lovestruck smile, tugging at her nipple with his teeth after. “Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat like a desperate little whore while I fuck you from behind?”
The fucking happening between them could only be described as rough and depraved, the two exploring each other ravenously as the tension between them exploded into a passionate cocoon of chambered sex in the limo.
His words triggered something inside her as Y/N felt her orgasm hit her a second later with a fiery velocity, making her back arch the highest it could go and her mouth to fall open with a silent scream.
Y/N was trembling from her previous orgasm as she heard her husband let out a chuckle, the sound vibrating throughout her skin as he laid little kisses across her shoulder. “Here I thought you were so prim and proper when I first met you.”
She felt too euphoric to care as his words didn’t really register in her mind when he suddenly moved her into a different position. One second, she was on his lap, and the next, she was facing the seat as he put her on all fours and tugged her hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulled her hair so that her back collided with his chest.
They shared a passionate, fiery kiss as he started thrusting into her with slow movements, pulling away until almost all of him was out before thrusting every inch of his cock into her tight, wet pussy. As she was enjoying the pleasure he was giving him, he suddenly said with a hoarse voice, “Clean up your mess, Y/N.”
She wanted to say no, she truly did but something about that moment made her want to please her husband as she started licking the seat clean while he watched her with a heated glance. “Good girl, Y/N. Such a good girl.” He groaned as she finished licking before he started fucking her again, this time more rough, hard and simply brutal as he pushed his cock in and out of her extremely wet pussy.
The only sound heard around the vehicle was the loud sound of skin slapping as the smell of sweat and sex mixed together beautifully along with her moans and his ravenous groans. As she got closer and closer to her second orgasm, he reached around and pinched her clit as he muttered, “You wanna cum, darling? Show me what a good girl you are and cum hard for me.”
Her moans were the loudest it’s ever been since he said that as her second orgasm hit her like a tidal wave as he loudly groaned while coming inside her sweet pussy.
Both Y/N and Coriolanus calmed down as they catched her breath, their faces close together as Coriolanus turned her back towards the seat and kissed her with all his might as they revelled in their love for each other.
“I love you.”, Y/N said as she gazed up at her husband with a dazed but content expression. Coriolanus looked down at her while heaving a huge sigh, “I love you too, sweetheart. So much, I hope you know that.” He said as he closed the gap between them as the limo arrived near the Ravinstill residence.
#husband!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#tbosas fanfiction#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow arranged marriage smut#coriolanus snow arranged marriage angst#Spotify
351 notes
·
View notes
Note
Imagine dad!ghost at his daughter's jiu-jitsu/martial arts tournament where she is absolutely demolishing all her opponents.
Ghost and s/o would most definitely be those over-proud parents like Cam and Mitchell from modern family 😭💀
Was wondering if you could write a fic for this??
Y E S thank you so so much for requesting this! first off i love modern family and second who doesn't LOVE a cute lil wholesome moment with the riley family!
a child's eye of the tiger
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: It's clear your daughter takes after her father when she absolutely demolishes the competition in her youth jiu jitsu match.
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader (established relationship w daughter)
warnings: swearing, violence involved in a jiu jitsu match?
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
"What sport is this again?" Simon asked you with a shit-eating grin painted on his face. You slapped his thigh lightly as you adjusted your gaze to find your daughter waiting patiently on the mat. "Jiu-jitsu, Simon," you whispered, "been doing this since reception." You didn't see his reaction but you knew he had a proud fatherlike smile. Despite always asking you these inconsequential questions, he secretly was thoroughly involved in his daughter's life. You tapped your fingers anxiously as you watched the different age groups compete across the dark blue mats. Your daughter sat alone, watching their every move, and stretching her little legs out. "She's definitely your little girl," you whispered to Simon as he put a comforting arm around you.
"Next we have Isla Riley," the announcer called and yours and Simon's cheers drowned out the announcement of her competitor. "Go Isles!" you shouted, ignoring the glares from the surrounding parents. Despite only being six, she sarcastically shook her head before taking her stance. She adjusted her gray and black striped belt as she looked angrily at the other girl in front of her. As soon as the announcer commenced the match, your daughter ran towards the girl, grappling for her legs. You could feel your hands tighten around Simon's as you watched her overpower her and pin the girl to the mat. "She's actually pretty good," Simon beamed as the match continued. Your daughter was then put on her back by the much taller girl and you could feel yourself reacting to their action. "Oh fuck," you said, a little louder than acceptable, and you looked away from the turned heads. Just when you thought your daughter was going to lose the match, your daughter wrapped her legs around the girl's neck and threw her off of her.
"That's my girl," Simon whispered and you could see him smile widely, a rare sight in the Riley household. You were counting the various points your daughter was continuously awarded and it was clear she was in the advantage after her last move. The round continued as your daughter scored for her knee-on-belly, mounting, and passing the guard moves. You could feel yourself clapping when she accomplished the highest-scoring move, the rear mount, and pinned the girl in between her legs and arms. Her heels wrapped around her torso and the girl struggled in her grasp. "I helped her practice that one," you smiled to Simon and you could hear him laugh to himself. As soon as the match started, the 5 minutes were up and the announcer named your daughter the winner with a score of 36. "Let's go Isles!" you shouted and Simon joined with a loud clap that reverberated across the gym walls.
Once she shook her opponent's hand, she ran over to you with her hair in knots and breathing heavily. Simon lifted her up into his arms and placed a soft kiss on her temple. "Happy to be home to see you, baby," he whispered to her as he smoothed out her wild hair. "Did you see I did a take the back?" she excitedly cooed, "I could hear you cheering for me, Mum." You hugged your little family in a warm hug as you celebrated her recent accomplishments. "Want to get out of here?" Simon asked and Isla giddily nodded in response. As you walked out of the gym after a few words with her coach, she held her dad's hand proudly and listed off various sweet shops she wanted to visit. You stood behind them and in a secretive moment, you took a picture of them hand-in-hand. "Glad to have you home, Simon," you whispered before your daughter turned to you and beckoned for you to hurry up. "We're not all athletes here," you joked as you sprinted to walk with your loving daughter and husband.
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
sidenote: this is what i pictured w simon and the reader while writing this
#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare#izzie is drawing#cod mwii#modern warfare 2#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#call of duty#mw2 imagine#madebyizzie#mw2#izzie is writing
543 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is it bad I just wanna suck Joel off with the highest chance of someone coming in on us? Just like, imagine it, ugh
Birthday Boy
Pairing || Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Summary || It's his day, of course you'd treat him well today.
Word Count || 1,227
Contents & Warnings || Fluff & Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (baby, hon/honey, sweetheart, good girl), oral (male receiving), teasing, face/throat fucking, spit/saliva, cum swallowing, getting caught, established relationship, ONE spank, 2 mentions of the word Daddy (said by Joel)
Disclaimer || This is my first ever fic, I'm sorry if it's not super good. I promise whatever comes next will be better!
It was Joel's birthday and you invited Tommy over to celebrate with you and Sarah, forcing him to stay home for the day. It's not that he hated to celebrate his day, he was usually busy with work and came home late.
"How old are you again, old man" you hear from the living room, followed by a chuckle from Tommy.
"If you think 28 is old, I'm scared about what you think in 20 years, hon'," you say walking back in the living room with two bowls of popcorn, placing them on the coffee table and sitting right next to your birthday boy.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Joel says while wrapping an arm around you and placing a peck on your temple. Your relationship with Joel has been amazing for the past 2 years. When thinking back about it, you've got thank Sarah and her boldness to get her father into the dating scene. Who's daughter would slip her own dad's number to the local dinner waitress? Only in the Miller household, that's for sure.
"Movie in? What we watching again?," Tommy leans over his niece on the floor, grabbing a beer set there only a few minutes ago, Sarah replies, "Men in Black 2." as she wipes down the liquid ring caused by the beer bottle. "Learn to use a coaster next time, please"
"Ok ok, just play the damn thing. I wanna see if this is better then the original," he said before taking a swig of beer. You all sit comfortably, Tommy and Sarah huddled together on the floor and you and Joel cuddling together. You look up at him, admiring his facial features, wondering how he didn't notice his own beauty. He feels your stares and looks down at you and places his forehead against yours before placing a hand on your thigh and facing back to the screen.
There's about a quarter left of the movie now. Sarah had fallen asleep against Tommy, who's starting to feel the effects of the couple of beers. "I'm heading up, want me to take this one too?," he says looking up at the couple on the couch, "I'll tuck her in and whatever."
"Yeah that's fine Tommy, thank you," you say while smiling at the two on the floor, watching him pick up the sleeping teen, struggling for a second, then walking up the steps. Soft groans and a "Shh, it's fine, just me" can be heard faintly going up the steps.
You and Joel are left alone on the couch and the sequel playing in front of you. Placing a hand on his lap, you lean up and kiss his jaw. "Did you have a good birthday, my love?"
Joel chuckled and pulled you onto his lap, hands placed on your hips, "Of course I did, I always enjoy the quality time we spend, together as a family," he then leans forwards towards your ear whispering, "and when we're alone," followed by a playful smack on your ass.
"Uh, you nasty old man," you jokingly gasped out, lightly hitting Joel's chest. He let out a hearty laugh, both hands now on your ass, "Well this 'old man' loves you and everything you do, baby."
You place your hands on his chest, rubbing softly against the button down he wore. You sit in silence for awhile until you break it.
“Do you want me to suck your dick?”
Your words almost gave him whiplash, eyes blinking furiously as he had a confused and intriguing expression on his face.
“Right now?”
“Yeah dummy, right now.”
“Where did this come from, pretty girl?” His lips turned up in a smirk at the thought of you sucking him off right here on the couch.
“Maybe I'm just in the mood to suck your dick. So do you want me to or not?," you say smirking.
“Fuck, you know I could never resist your offer, baby.” His hand reaches up to your mouth, thumb caressing your lips, thinking about them wrapped around him, making his cock twitch. You reach down and grabbed his covered bulge and palmed him in your hand. The idea of sucking him off had his cock hardened.
“What about Sarah and Tommy, sweetheart? What if they come back down?”
“Well, you need to be my eyes and ears, old man, because I’ll be too busy with your pretty dick in my mouth.”
He groaned in anticipation when you got up and made yourself comfortable on your knees, peering up at him through your thick lashes. Quickly, you pulled his jeans and boxers down, his hard dick springing into view, making you lick your hungry lips.
His hand petting your head lovingly gave you the encouragement you needed to have at him.
You licked his tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum that was forming on it. The feeling of your tongue on him and the risk of getting caught had him groan out.
He pushed your head on his cock, becoming slightly impatient. He wanted to feel your wet and tight mouth rubbing against him. When he was in your throat, he groaned out in satisfaction, his eyes closing in bliss.
You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his cock. Your mouth and hand worked together to bring him towards the edge. You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock, making you hungry for more.
"Fuck baby, you're doing so damn good. Sucking Daddy's cock so good," he says hand gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again.
You took him all the way to the back of your throat again, making your eyes water. The light gagging made him shiver on the spot. You pushed through the slight discomfort, wanting to make him feel as good as possible.
He fucked your mouth hard, saliva dripping down your chin with each force of his hips. “So pretty and messy for me, baby.” He was in awe as he watched you take each inch of him. He was a little over average size, yet was thick enough to make your jaw hurt in the best ways.
“Ah, fuck,” he leaned his head back while shutting his eyes tight, “I'm gonna come.”
A thrust or two more, and he was shooting his hot cum down your throat, some coming out from the sides of your mouth. You continued to bob your head on him until he was done spilling every single drop.
“Show me,” he moaned, tugging you off of his softening dick. You showed him your empty mouth, tongue stuck out with no trace left of him in your mouth.
"Such a good girl for me. Knows exactly how to treat her Daddy," he groans while taking his free hand and rubbing your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.
"Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You follow his orders opening your mouth allowing him to spit in your empty cavity and without being told to, you swallow happily.
"Hey lovebirds, next time ya'll are havin' fun, invite me yeah?" You look up in the direction of the stairs, hearing the other male voice in the house chuckle. "If you don't, just keep it down next time."
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us#the last of us smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Vienna. One.
Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.
pairing - carmen berzatto x reader
warnings - cursing. references to mikey’s death.
word count - 2k
authors note - strap in, this one’s gonna be a rollercoaster!! can’t wait to get into this a little more. I love this show, and we’re gonna have so much fun getting lost in that world. this series is going to make you laugh, cry, scream, and want to throw your phone at my head. get ready <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
series masterlist. inbox. masterlist.
home (hōm) - the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.
You’ve been staring at the outside of the building for fifteen minutes.
It looks so different that you had to check the street sign, ensuring you are where you thought you were.
The Bear.
It was The Beef, the last time you were here. Stood in this very spot, tears dripping down your face, you bid farewell to the life you once knew.
Now you’re back.
It looks slick, professional, high end. It’s all polished glass and sharp edges, a drastic contrast from what once stood here.
You wonder what Michael would think.
The thought sends a pang of sadness through your heart, which you shake off as quickly as possible. Today should be a happy day, you remind yourself. Emphasis on should.
You take a deep breath and try the door of the restaurant, surprised when you find it unlocked. Walking inside, you have to stop and take in what’s in front of you.
No more sticky floors or peeling paint or arcade machines. No more flickering lights or red pleather booths or plastic cutlery.
The restaurant you’re currently stood in is slick, spotlessly clean, perfectly laid out. It’s like something out of a magazine. You’re in shock, bewildered by the transformation.
“Holy shit.”
The kitchen door has swung open, and across from you stands Richie Jerimovich.
“Am I hallucinating, or what?”
You laugh, and before you know it, he’s striding towards you, throwing his arms out for you to jump into. He wraps you in a bear hug, spinning you in circles like when you were a kid. You’re dizzy when he puts you down, his hand grabbing your shoulder to steady you on your feet.
“You hallucinate often these days, old man?”
“Old man,” he scoffs. “Yeah fuckin’ right. Do I look old to you?”
“You want me to answer that?”
He shoves you playfully, shaking his head.
“Thought I was seeing ghosts when I saw you stood in here.”
“If anyone’s hallucinating, it’s me. How… how did you do this? It’s like a whole new restaurant, Cousin.”
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Really cool. I think I stood and stared at the sign outside for like twenty minutes. Seriously.”
He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in.
“He’d have liked it, right?”
You can hear the slight waver in his voice, well disguised insecurity peeking through.
“He’d have fucking loved it, Richie.”
He presses a kiss into your hair, bumping your hip with his affectionately.
“So what, you’re like, a big boss here now?”
“I’m in charge of front of house, actually. I’ve been professionally trained and shit. Oh, guess what?”
“What?”
“I wear suits now. Every night.”
“You’re kidding. Bet you wear them well, too,” you tease, laughing when he kicks your foot with his. “You always scrubbed up well.”
“You gotta see it for yourself. We’ll make you up a table tonight, get you to try everything.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m not gonna put you guys out like that.”
“Vi, you’re not putting us out. And you and I both know Carmen isn’t going to take no for an answer.”
Your heart skips a beat at the very mention of his name.
“I just don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“Babe,” he practically whines, pulling you into him, “you are never an inconvenience. For any of us.”
“Okay, okay,” you relent, resting your head on his arm. “I can’t wait.”
Richie grins, excitement vibrating off him.
“Okay, let me look at you. You look good, Vi!”
You mock a twirl, spinning with a curtsy for good measure.
“I like your hair like this,” he compliments, plucking at a strand. “Suits you.”
“Thanks, Casanova,” you laugh. “How’s Eva?”
“Oh, she’s good. So good. Did you see all the pictures I posted from the Taylor Swift concert? I’m officially the best dad in the world.”
“I did, and they were the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s so big, now. Can’t wait to see her soon.”
“I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you. Cousin tells her stories about you all the time.”
“…he does?”
“Are you kidding? Of course he does. Sugar does too.”
A cool sense of relief washes over you. It’s nice to know that they haven’t forgotten about you, as stupid as it sounds. There’s something comforting about knowing they still talk about you, even when you’re gone.
He plants a kiss on the crown of your head as the kitchen door flies open once again. Marcus, Tina and Ebra file in, along with a girl you’ve never met before. They’re looking at you with curious expressions on their faces when you hear it.
“Does anyone know where the fuck I put my good knife?”
When he doesn’t get an answer, he strides into the restaurant, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you at Richie’s side.
He tries to speak, but he can’t.
Instead, he practically runs across the room, wrapping his arms around you as your feet leave the floor.
You bury your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of home that you’ve missed so much. He’s murmuring into your ear, but you can’t for the life of you work out what he’s saying. It’s all low and slow, careful to not be overheard. You tangle your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, nudging his face back into your shoulder. He presses a gentle kiss to your skin, which sends a shiver down your spine that you’re praying he doesn’t notice.
Eventually, after what feels like hours, he pulls away to look at you. His hands are on your waist as if they belong there, as yours cradle his face.
“You’re home.”
He breathes it, as if he can’t quite catch a lungful of air.
“I’m home,” you say, sweeping your thumbs across his cheekbones. “You’re home.”
“I’m home.”
You’re completely unaware of the group of people watching you. They all know they should tear their eyes away, but they can’t seem to. It’s new, seeing Carmy like this with someone. They’re all wondering what the hell has happened.
“Fuck, I missed you.”
“I missed you,” he laughs, pulling you back in for another hug.
Pressing a kiss into your hair, he rocks you slightly, as if you’re both completely thrown off balance by the presence of the other.
You step back, giving him a once over.
“I like your tattoos, Carmen. Very hipster.”
“Shut up,” he chuckles, shoving you lightly. You shove him right back, both of you grinning like idiots.
His eyes flicker up, catching Sydney’s gaze. She looks completely bewildered, and a little uncomfortable. Carmy tugs you into his side, turning to face the crowd.
“Syd, this is Vienna. Vienna, Sydney. The rest of you guys know her.”
They all smile, meeting you in the middle for hugs and hellos. You hold your arms out to Sydney, who steps into them somewhat apprehensively, giving you a quick squeeze.
“My name isn’t actually Vienna, but it’s been a nickname for as long as I can remember. So you can call me Vienna, or Vi, or Enna. I get them all.”
She nods, visibly still a little confused. The door swings open one last time, and out walks Natalie.
“Oh my God!”
You give her a careful hug, on account of the bump she’s sporting.
“Oh, you look so beautiful, Sugar. You’re glowing!”
“It’s sweat from the kitchen babe, I swear.”
The blonde sits down at a table, and you join her, eager to catch up with one of your oldest girl friends. As you do, Sydney and Carmy reconvene a distance away.
“She’s pretty.”
“Yeah, she is.”
Carmen’s watching you as you talk to his sister, as if he’s worried you’ll bolt out the door at any given moment.
“Your… girlfriend?”
“Oh, no,” he’s suddenly a little flustered, hand scratching the back of his neck. “Best friend. We’ve known each other forever. Literally. Our mom’s had us a day apart. We were neighbours, grew up on the same street.”
“Ah. And she’s been away?”
“For a long time. Think it’s about five years, maybe more. I went to culinary school, she went to art school, both ended up living in different places.”
“Did you know she was coming back?”
“Jesus, Syd, is this twenty fuckin’ questions?”
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, fiddling with the end of her braid. “You just seemed surprised to see her.”
“Yeah. I was. Had no idea she was back in town.”
“Did you guys keep in touch?”
He gives a look that says really?, but answers the question anyway.
“Not as much as we should have. It’s hard, being so far apart. We saw each other a few times, texted and called when we could. But it’s not the same.”
He glances in your direction to find you laughing with Natalie, a delicate hand placed on her growing stomach. Nat looks happy, carefree, like the young girl she once was. You seem to have that effect on people.
Richie pulls out a chair next to the pair, knocking into Carmy’s shoulder as he sits down.
“Told Vi we’d give her a table here tonight, so she can try everything. You should join her, catch up.”
Carmy reacts as if it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard, so Richie continues quickly.
“We need to be able to run this shit without you. One evening with you dining instead of cookin’ won’t hurt.”
“We’ve done it before,” Sydney adds, alluding to that fateful opening night. Richie snickers. Carmy doesn’t.
“And you’ll be here, it’s not like you’re a thousand miles away. We’ll come out and get you if we need help, Cousin.”
Carmy’s known his answer since the very first second Richie asked the question, but he’s trying to play it cool. He doesn’t want to give away just quite how excited the thought of an entire evening with you makes him.
“Fine.”
��� ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You and Sugar have ended up practically on each others laps at your table, whispering and giggling like old times. She’s telling you a story about something funny Pete said when you look over at Carmy, to find him already staring at you.
Your heart skips a beat as you catch his eyes, smiling gently at the fact he refuses to look away. He’s so timid with everyone else, so worried about what people think of him. He’s never as bold as when he’s with you.
You wink at him, quick and cheeky, and heat blooms across his cheeks instantly. He winks right back, stifling a grin by biting at his lip.
“You never told him, did you?”
Nat’s watching the two of you intently, gaze flicking back and forth between her brother and his childhood best friend.
You take a deep breath. And then another.
“No.”
“Vienna.”
Her tone is stern, almost scolding, and you suddenly feel sorry for the child who’s going to be on the receiving end of it one day soon.
“I couldn’t do it.”
She grabs your hand, resting them both in her lap.
“Secrets like that eat people alive, Vi.”
You squeeze her hand before dropping it, desperate for the conversation to be over.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll tell him when the time is right.”
“The time is never right when it comes to Carmen. You and I both know this.”
You refuse to admit she’s right, even though deep down, you know she is absolutely is.
“You haven’t told him? Richie hasn’t either?”
“It’s not our place to tell him. You have to be the one to do it.”
You inhale carefully, risking a look over to where Carmy is stood up, pointing at a table in the corner of the restaurant. He’s clearly in Chef Mode, both him and Sydney speaking in a language you can’t even begin to understand.
He catches your eye and smiles, all bright and bashful, before resuming what he was saying.
You don’t want to hurt him.
You think it might be inevitable.
Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.
@agirlcandream84 @diorrfairy @raging-panda @melancholicmelanin @nolita-fairytale @jacxx2 @huang-the-geek @2guysonascooter @stxxllaaa @an0nym1ss @thereisnoowl @dreamingofleon
#vienna#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader fluff#carmen berzatto x reader angst#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader fluff#carmy berzatto angst#carmy berzatto x reader smut#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear x reader#the bear x you#the bear fluff#the bear smut#carmen berzatto imagine
316 notes
·
View notes
Text
STARBOY
-> Pairing: shōta aizawa / sub! (trans) male reader
-> Request: yes / no
-> Word Count: 1K (roughly)
➷...Summary: shō offers a helping hand (more like mouth) when you're in need.
-> Notes: not the fic that was meant to be posted this week but seeing as that one is yet to be completed i thought i would post this request in the meantime!
➷...Content Warnings: vaginal descriptions, use of the word cunt, mentions of testosterone, exhibition, age gap (though not specified, both are adults), coach/athlete trope(?), oral (reader receiving), squirting, being caught masturbating, biting, at some point it is implied that shō may have a negative reaction to the reader being trans but he does not. if i miss anything let me know.
“You've got to be—holy shit, this can’t be real.” He grunts, his voice a gravelly whisper amongst the sound of sneakers frantically shuffling across the court. Jesus. His free hand immediately goes to his mess of black hair, strumming his calloused fingers through the stray strands clinging to his sweaty forehead.
It’s a lost cause — it’s all a fucking lost cause. This team is the last nail in the coffin that was Shōta Aizawa’s career as an athlete.
The corners of his lips can’t help but curl upwards at that thought. An athlete? Maybe some ridiculously delusional part of himself still had a shred of his youthful shamelessness. He is, and has been, a disgrace for quite some time now.
His days of being a household name are long gone. You’ve taken his place now, haven’t you? You’re a good player, a team player, and not too hard on the eyes either.
Shō’s had his eyes on you for a while now. You’ve come a long way since he first saw you handing out water bottles to the members of your team. Now you’re destroying his team on the court. It takes every ounce of self-control in him to not laugh. Funny how the world works, right?
Shōta Aizawa prides himself on how mature he is. He’s not going to pick a fight with you. You’re half his age for crying out loud. He’s above that because he’s incredibly mature; As most people his age would be.
So, it’s purely coincidental that he’s in the same locker room as you. He just happened to take a wrong turn when attempting to find his team. As their coach, it’s his duty to comfort them after such a…horrific loss. But accidents happen and he couldn’t just waltz in here without conversing with you. What if you misunderstood and painted him out to be some kind of pervert? It’s only right that he makes small talk.
But the words that were at the tip of his tongue disappeared in an instant. Perhaps his critical thinking skills have gone along with it. Well, this is quite the turn of events, isn’t it?
“…In all my years of playing this damn game,” He cocks his head sideways, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’ve never found it remotely arousing.” He says pointedly, clicking his tongue. Your skin warms.
You open and close your mouth once, twice, and then a third time but no words slide past those ridiculously beautiful lips of yours. Shō doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring. “Each to their own,” He shrugs and you want nothing more than the floor to swallow you whole.
“I…” You start, scrambling to find the right words to say. But in a situation like this, what could you say? The coach of the opposing team just walked in on you with your hands down your pants. Not a good look.
“Wh–What are you even doing in here, first of all?” You counter, fighting a heated blush as you not-so-discreetly pull your hand out of your shorts. Fingers coated in your arousal fluid.
Silence, then a moment later he deadpans, “Got lost, and then walked in on you…doing whatever it is that you were doing.” And before you can stop yourself, “It’s the testosterone, I can’t help it, alright?” you dig yourself into a deeper hole.
Shō blinks at you, once, twice, and then a third time. It’s like you’re taking turns leaving one another speechless. Before his mouth forms something of an ‘O’ shape. You grimace, bracing yourself for this embarrassing situation to take an even worse turn. But it doesn’t.
“Jesus,” He curses, more so to himself, and then takes a deep breath. “I can leave so you can finish—” He stops himself, sounding embarrassed, “…or I can help you with that problem of yours.”
“Go—You can go ahead,” you say, swallowing hard. Everyone has their needs, you remind yourself.
Shō’s gaze meets yours momentarily, silently requesting your approval once more. You nod, turning your head to the side as you lay on one of the benches, your legs spread. Dripping cunt on full display.
He lowers his face in between your legs without hesitation, warm breath tickling your sensitive thighs. As his teeth gently graze the fat of your thighs. He takes his time, gently nipping at your thighs before trailing light kisses up either one. Stopping just short of your drooling hole.
It’s torture, really. The way he alternates between light kisses, gentle nips, and then full-on sucking hickeys onto your inner thighs. Always stopping short of your cunt.
The rough pads of his fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he holds you in place. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. His tongue lapped at your thighs covered in arousal fluid. It’s like he’s never tasted anything sweeter and you squirm, utterly embarrassed. Embarrassed by how wet it makes you; Embarrassed by the sounds you’re both making.
After what felt like hours—You don’t know, you’ve lost track of time. His mouth moves from your thighs to your glistening labia. He presses a kiss to your outer lips, taking his time to spread them, before licking a fat stripe over your labia. You feel yourself tremble, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans. There are still people outside. But you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make it all the more exciting.
And then it happens without warning — his tongue breaches your entrance. Your eyes flutter closed, and you knit your brows together when you feel him squeezing your clit in between the rough pads of his fingers. It’s all so perfect. He’s dragged this out for far too long.
He’s so good to you. Your legs are shaking but he holds you in place with one hand as he laps at your sopping-wet cunt like it’s his last meal. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you and oh when it does, you’re squirting. Spraying your juices all over his face, and he doesn’t protest in the slightest. He pulls away, lips quirking, and licks what’s left on his face contently.
#x bottom male reader#x sub male reader#mha x male reader#aizawa x male reader#x male reader smut#aizawa smut#x ftm reader#bnha smut#aizawa x you#aizawa shouta x you
646 notes
·
View notes
Note
I MUST KNOW: Horangi & Konig's AO3s! their account names, favorite fandoms, favorite tropes (including NSFW hehe)--please! I loved that recent post 👉🏽👈🏽
Horangi’s account name is so obvious. Everyone that knows him in real life just know it’s him when they see the name. He has no shame, he’s very proud of himself. He’s not in actual fandoms, he writes things for very small fandoms or he is the fandom of a very niche, unknown movie or series. But Horangi does write fics of people he knows in real life. Again, the man has no shame.
He loves a good ‘there was only one bed’, fucking loves modern or fantasy AUs (depends on the setting for the movie/series). He wrote a fantasy AU for a Sim household with sex pollen. He posted that shit on the official KorTac server and got an ear full when Hutch took it down (he read it, of course he did). He has made so many fics with König getting down with characters from his fandoms. König knows, he’s immune by this point.
König only has an AO3 because Horangi kept sending him the fics he had written about him from there. He finally just made one to make things easier and now he just critiques everything Horangi writes and gets into arguments with people in the comments. His user is Pillowcaseman or something like that.
König is not in any fandoms, he just reads whatever Horangi writes and then complains about it later. He will admit he likes the ‘fluff and smut’ tag but he will never admit that. König has read the most heinous fics and is just unable to stop reading them. He read the first fic Horangi sent him out of curiosity and was floored by what it was about. Now he feels the need to comment ‘I hate you’ on every fic involving him that Horangi has made.
Worst part is that some of Horangi’s fans are now making their own fics about König (who they are thoroughly convinced is an OC). He’s so mad that some of them are actually really good and he’s even more pissed about Horangi sharing them with everyone on KorTac. Hutch was the first to get them then he sends them out (he’s an accomplice who sternly believes ‘If I had to see it so do you’).
König will never write anything other than hate comments. But Horangi is convinced he can get him to write something. He just has to get him to his breaking point.
#call of duty#modern warfare#kim horangi hong jin#cod könig#colonel könig#darnell hutch hutchinson#ask#thanks for the ask <3#kortac#kortac operators
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shades Of Cool
Rick Grimes x Fem Reader
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s), dry humping, fingering, oral (m receiving), face fucking, a bit of cum eating, intercourse and a bit of a breeding kink. let me know if I missed anything!
A/n: so this fic is inspired by this pic and there’s no walkers nothing just regular shmegular Rick Grimes because I just had to make a fic for this picture!!!
You and Carl were friends. The two of you actually met on your 21st birthday and you two had been inseparable ever since; but that’s all you were, friends. Carl wasn’t really your type, but you know who was? His father. Rick Grimes.
The first day Carl brought you over and his father was home, you weren’t expecting your knees to wobble at the sight of him. From that day onward, anytime you would come over, you’d steal little glances at Rick when he wasn’t looking and you thought he hadn’t noticed but each and every time you stared at him, practically undressing him with your eyes, he felt it, and it made him smile every damn time.
You had begun dressing in the skimpiest of clothing every time you went over to the Grimes household; one time you were dragging Carl with you to a festival and you came to pick him up. You had a bikini top on that barely fit, a bit of under-boob peeking out, paired with your favourite low-waisted jeans. You knocked on their door expecting Carl to answer since you had texted him that you were here but to your surprise, Rick had answered the door. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets that day as he looked at you, his eyes quickly looking down at your chest and back up to your face. He invited you in and you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you waited for Carl, as that little look Rick took of you had not gone unnoticed by you.
You were currently on your way to their house right now. Carl had asked his father if he could invite you to the little vacation they had planned and Rick said yes.
You arrived at the house and spotted Rick at his car, loading some bags into the trunk. You had parked your car into their garage and soon moved to the back of your car to get your bags. You were just about to grab them and bring them over to Rick when he took them from your hands.
“I’ve got em.” He said as he looked at you, raking his eyes over your figure before giving you a smile and making his way over to his car.
“Thanks Mr. Grimes.” You said as you made your way to him, handing him a bag that was on the ground to put into the car.
“You can call me Rick ya know?”
“I know, I just like teasing you.” You said as you smiled at him, your attention moving to the figure behind him.
“Hey stink!” You said as Carl came into your view, handing his father the last bag before making his way to you.
“Out of all the names you call me, that’s gotta be my least favourite.” He said as he brought you in for a hug.
You pulled away from Carl and crouched down to the little girl next to him, hugging her before lifting her into your arms.
“Hey Judith.” You said as you smiled at her, handing her a lollipop you brought specially for her.
“So we all packed in?” Rick said as he looked to you and Carl. Both of you nodded your heads before you all made your way to the front of the car.
You lowered Judith into her car seat before looking back at Carl.
“So where ya gonna sit?”
“I’ll sit at the back with Judith, you can sit in the front.” He said as he slid into the back seat.
You smiled to yourself at the thought of sitting in the passenger seat with Rick, blush creeping onto your cheeks. You quickly calmed yourself down before opening the passenger side door and sliding in.
Rick looked at you and let out a little laugh to himself before looking back at his son.
This was going to be a long ride.
****
The four of you soon arrived at the holiday house you’d be staying at. You grabbed your bags and made your way to the room you picked, you picked this one because it was really pretty and it had a great view (it was right next to Rick’s room).
You were just about to start unpacking when Carl barged into your room, plopping down onto the bed.
“We’re all going to the beach so get dressed. ”
You gave him a thumbs up before shoving him out of your room to get dressed in your bikini, placing a crocheted skirt over.
You grabbed your beach bag and made your way outside, waiting for the rest of them to come.
Rick was the first to come through the door, his eyes moving straight to your ass in the bikini you were wearing, that left little to the imagination.
You turned to face the door as it closed, eyes landing on Rick as he held a surf board and placed it against the wall.
“You can surf?” You said as you turned to face him, your eyes raking over his body. God he was hot.
“Yeah, I learnt when I was younger.”
“Cool. Maybe you could teach me one day.” You said before the door opened again, revealing Judith and Carl.
“Well don’t you look pretty.” You said to Judith as she made her way over to you, grabbing your hand. Rick smiled at the little interaction before the four of you started making your way down to the beach.
You and Carl had found a great spot on the beach and set your things down on the blanket you brought with. You handed Judith a slice of watermelon before removing the crocheted skirt. As the skirt slipped down your legs, Rick couldn’t take his eyes off of you, moving his gaze along your legs as the skirt slipped off.
He quickly cleared his throat as you looked at him, rolling your eyes before settling back down onto the blanket.
“I’m gonna head in, watch Judith okay Carl?” Rick said as he made his way to the water, giving you a once over before getting into the water.
You watched as he surfed a few waves, your eyes never leaving his figure.
Carl passed you a bag of chips, taking one out before popping it into your mouth.
“Dude you need a haircut, right Judith?” You said looking towards the younger girl. She nodded before looking at Carl, smiling as she placed herself down onto your lap.
“Woww, so you’re not going to be siding with your brother Judy?” Carl said as he looked at his sister.
She shook her head before Carl grabbed her and began tickling his sister, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles. You smiled as you watched her writhing around as she laughed.
You looked back up and saw Rick coming out of the water. His hair was wet and the second skin clung to his toned body as he walked towards you with the board under his arm.
God he looks amazing, you thought.
Rick immediately caught you staring before smiling at you, causing your cheeks to heat up.
“I want ice cream.” You heard Judith say as she looked at her brother.
“I’m gonna get her some, just let my dad know where we went when he gets here yeah?” He said as looked at you before grabbing his sisters hand and walking off.
Rick soon got to the little spot you guys had, looking at Carl and Judith as they walked off to find an ice cream truck.
“Where they headed to?” He said as he looked down at you, grabbing a towel and drying his face off.
“Judith wanted ice cream.” You said as he sat down next you.
“Hey uh do you mind helping me with sunscreen, I can’t get my back.” You said as you held the sunscreen out. Rick looked at you before smirking, grabbing the sunscreen from you as you turned around, sitting on your knees in front of him.
You loosened your bikini top strings, bringing your hands to your front to keep the fabric on your breasts.
Rick spurted some sunscreen on his hands before placing them on your back. You immediately jerked at the touch, causing Rick to laugh.
“Relax, it’s just me.” He said as he moved his large hands all along your back, massaging along your neck.
His hands moved down to your lower back, spreading the lotion all over before moving back up to your neck, applying pressure in all the tense areas. This caused you to relax against him, letting out a barely audible moan that went straight to Rick’s dick.
He wondered what other sounds you could make.
He tapped your shoulder once he was done, tying your straps for you too.
“Thanks Rick.” You said as he gave the sunscreen back.
All he did was nod his head towards you, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as you got up and made your way to the water. Rick threw his head back against the blanket, groaning and muttering a quiet, ‘fuck’ under his breath.
He immediately sat up as he heard his daughters voice, straightening himself as he looked at Carl and Judith.
“Where is she?” Carl asked his father, looking towards you as Rick pointed your way.
“I’m gonna join her.” Carl said as he rushed off towards you, almost knocking you to the ground as he ran to you.
Rick watched the two of you mess around in the water, mainly just watching you and your gorgeous body. His attention was quickly pulled to a guy approaching the two of you.
You and Carl stopped messing around once the guy said hi, mainly looking at you.
“So you’re really pretty and I was just wondering if I could get-”
“Nope.” You said as you grabbed Carl’s arm and the two of you went running back, laughing at the previous interaction.
The both of you plopped down onto the blanket, clutching your stomachs as you were laughing.
“What was that about?” Rick asked as he watched the guy walk past you all.
“This dude tried hitting on her and all she said was nope, she didn’t even let him finish!” Carl said as he continued laughing.
“Well he wasn’t my type we all know that.” You said as you looked at Rick, slowly calming down.
“Yeah she’s into the old dude’s.” Carl said, causing you to shove him against the shoulder.
All Rick did was smile at this revelation, looking at you as you brought a water bottle to your lips.
****
You were all currently back at the holiday house, you changed into something more comfortable as the four of you had just gotten back from dinner.
You made your way into the kitchen, grabbing some fruit you had bought earlier on.
You began cutting them up into smaller pieces and placing them into a bowl when your attention was pulled to footsteps approaching the kitchen.
It was Rick.
He made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and drinking some of it as he leaned against the counter opposite you.
You could feel him watching you, turning around as you held an uncut strawberry in your hand.
“I can feel you staring, so do you want one? They do taste really sweet.” You said as you approached him, lifting the strawberry to his mouth. He took the sweet fruit between his lips, his beautiful eyes piercing yours as he took a bite.
You lowered your hand and placed the stem of the strawberry into the trash.
Turning back to Rick, you watched as he swiped some juice that was left on the side of his mouth to bring to his lips but you quickly stopped him, bringing his index finger to your lips and taking the digit into your mouth.
Rick was stunned at your bold action, watching you closely as you sucked on his finger. The filthy images that came to mind went straight to his crotch, the fabric of his shorts tightening as his cock got hard.
You lowered his hand once again, moving back to the fruit you were previously cutting and cleaning up the mess.
You were about to leave when you felt Rick behind you, pressing his hard on against your ass and using his arms to cage you in.
You turned around in his hold, looking up at him as he shoved your legs apart with his, moving his thigh against your core and smashing his lips against yours.
You immediately deepened the kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth as his hands roamed your body.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” He said against your lips.
His kisses slowly moved along your jaw, going down your neck and reaching your collar bone. You unknowingly began grinding your hot core against his thigh, throwing your head back to give him more room.
You were both quickly pulled back to reality when you heard another set of footsteps, Rick moving to the opposite side of the kitchen where he was previously standing and you pretending to continue cleaning up.
Carl made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before moving to you and stealing a piece of fruit from your bowl, causing you to smack him against the head.
“G’night.” He said to the two of you as he made his way back to his room.
Just as he left, Rick was on you again, attaching his lips to yours before you pushed him away.
“Come find me later, preferably when he’s asleep. I’ll probably be in the shower.” You hinted as you grabbed your bowl of fruit and left the kitchen.
Rick ran his hands over his face. You were going to be the death of him.
****
You set your underwear and an oversized shirt on the bed before moving to the bathroom. You climbed into the large shower once the water was warm, running your hands through your hair as you tilted your head back to let the warm water cascade down your face.
You were about to reach for your body wash when there was a knock on the bathroom door, followed by the sound of the door opening.
You opened the tinted shower door, peeking out and seeing Rick, a white towel hanging low on his hips as he made his way to you. The towel dropped as he got closer to the shower, your eyes immediately bulging at his size.
You took your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him as he got into the shower with you, placing his body right under the stream of water and letting out a barely audible moan as the water hit his back.
He reached out towards you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said as he looked down at you. You connected your lips to his, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He once again let his kisses trail down your neck, the roughness of his beard sending shivers through your body as he trailed his kisses down your body towards your chest, taking one of your stiff peaks into his mouth. Sucking harshly onto the bud, he looked up at you as you moaned out in ecstasy.
Moving his hands down your body and towards your core, ghosting his fingertips over the area where you needed him most.
“Please..” You said as you moved closer to him, trying to get him to bring his hand where you wanted it, needed it.
“Please what baby?” He said as he looked at you, a smirk spreading over his features.
“Please just- just touch me please.” You begged.
“Where do you need me sweetheart?” He said as he held you, a faux sympathetic look on his face.
You grabbed ahold of his hand, leading it towards your core. Rick wasted no time, applying pressure on your clit.
You moaned out, your head hitting the wall behind you as you let the pleasure consume you.
Your breaths were getting heavy and you let out a particularly loud moan once he sunk two fingers into your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, feels so good.” You said as you closed your eyes, the pleasure combined with the steam from the hot water becoming all too much for you.
“Yeah, it feels good baby?” He said as he sunk down onto his knees, his mouth latching into your clit.
Your knees buckled at the feeling, looking down at the man between your thighs as his free hand moved to your hips to steady you.
“I’m so close.” You breathed out as you grabbed onto your left breast.
Rick quickened his fingers inside you, reaching a special spot your own fingers could never reach. This combined with his hot mouth on your clit sent you over the edge.
You let out multiple short breaths as you came, your body feeling hot to the touch as Rick rose back up, his fingers sinking into his mouth.
Moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his lips to yours before pulling back.
“You taste better than I imagined.” He said, causing you to bury your head into his neck.
“Now don’t get all shy on me baby, you were just moaning my name like a whore and now you’re all shy.” He said as he grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting your head up and pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Want you in my-” You said against his lips, stopping as you were unable to get the filthy words out.
“What do you want baby?” He said, his grip on your chin not letting up.
“Want you in my mouth please.”
“Oh do you now?” Rick said, a smile tugging at his lips.
You nodded your head before sinking down onto your knees. Taking his cock into your hand, you pressed his tip to your lips, taking it into your mouth, the salty taste of pre-cum hitting your tongue.
You moaned around his tip, looking up at him as you took more and more of him into your mouth. You started bobbing your head, savouring the taste of his cock on your tongue.
Rick was losing his mind, his hands leaning against the shower wall behind you, loving the sight of you kneeling in front of him.
You tapped his thigh, causing him to look down at you. You quickly reached for his hand, placing it at the back of your head.
Rick immediately caught on, wrapping your hair around his hand to create a sort of makeshift ponytail.
He began fucking your face at an ungodly pace, your nose hitting his pubic bone.
The most sinful noises left his lips, his hips staggering as he got closer to his high.
You could feel him in your throat, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes due to the shear force of his thrusts.
“Fuck.” He moaned out, his load shooting onto your tongue.
“Swallow it.” He said as you nodded your head, swallowing his seed as you stood up.
He brought you back in for a kiss, swiping his tongue across your lips. You allowed him to enter, his tongue dancing with yours as he claimed your mouth as his.
He tapped your thigh as he kissed you, causing you to jump up and wrap your legs around him.
Wasting no time he slipped his cock into your pussy, both of you moaning out at the feeling of him inside you.
With your back pressed against the wall, Rick’s one arm supporting your body and the other next to your head against the wall. His hips snapped against yours, desperate to get you to cum again.
You were a moaning mess, your mind occupied with Rick and only Rick. You grabbed onto his face and brought it from out of the crook of your neck, desperate to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss was rough and needy, teeth clashing, the feel of his beard rough on your lips; your hips meeting his thrusts as your tongue explored his mouth.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You said against his lips, causing Rick to slip out of you for a split second, turning you around and pressing your chest to the cold tiles. He slipped back into you, his thrusts speeding up as your pussy clenched around him, sucking him in even deeper if it was possible.
Pornographic like moans left your lips as you came, the pleasure making your body tingle all over. Your body went limp as Rick continued thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.
“Where do you want it?” He asked as his hips snapped against yours.
“Inside me please.” You begged, your body needing everything he had to offer.
You could sense his smirk at your words, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he was nearing his orgasm.
“Want me to fill you up huh?” He said between thrusts, his hot cum spilling into you as his thrusts slowed down.
He slipped out of you, turning you around to face him and placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
You smiled into the kiss but quickly gasped when you felt his fingers entering you again, shoving his cum deeper inside of you, making sure none of it dared to slip out.
“Too much Rick.” You whined as you grabbed onto his wrist.
“ ‘m sorry baby.” He muttered, wrapping his arms around you.
The two of you cleaned up, Rick washing your hair for you and washing your body too.
You both stepped out of the shower, brushing your teeth before you got dressed.
He slipped under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.
You knew this moment wasn’t going to last forever but for now you’d pretend it was.
Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to Rick’s lips before sinking back down into his arms.
****
@catt-leya
let me know if anyone would like to be added to this taglist as I’ll have a separate taglist for any rick grimes fics I write :)
requests are always open!
I hope everyone enjoyed lol!
#rick grimes smut#rick grimes#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes fluff#rick grimes x you#the walking dead#andrew lincoln#SMUT#Rick grimes is my fav dilf#quicksilversg1rl’s fics#fic recs#Rick grimes fics
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Joey B Blurbs: The Real MVP
————————————————————————-
Summary: Flashforward. Joe wins MVP after an amazing comeback in the ‘24-25 season. In his speech, he has to thank the person who supports him like no other, the real MVP.
Warnings: Fluff
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Into The Mystic
————————————————————————-
*NFL Honors for ‘24-’25 season*
After a hectic day of running the household alone, I settled on the couch with Tyson and Miles to watch the NFL Honors ceremony.
Joe had his name in the MVP running, and I couldn't be more proud of him.
Last season was less than stellar, with his calf strain causing him to miss camp and his season-ending injury serving unfinished business on a silver platter.
This season he showed the world who the fuck Joe Burrow was.
Not that he felt the need to, but Joe showed NFL viewers that he was worth every penny of his contract extension.
Throughout the ceremony, Tyson and Miles were scanning the audience for their Dad. They'd “helped” Joe pick out his outfit just a few days ago and were so excited to see him in it.
When it got to the MVP category, I held my breath and closed my eyes.
And the 2024 Most Valuable Player is…
My heart was beating out of my chest.
Joe Burrow!
Tyson and Miles stood up on the couch and started jumping up and down, and for once, I didn't get onto them about it.
“Daddy won!” - Tyson
“Daddy won!” - you repeated
My heart soared when Joe walked to the stage, feeling slightly nostalgic when I got deja vu about when he won the Heisman in college.
Joe started his speech by thanking his coaches, coordinators, and trainers before he began tearing up thanking his family.
My eyes matched Joe’s misty ones, just like they did at the Heisman years ago.
“But- I uhm need to thank the real MVP.” - Joe
When Joe said those words, I shook my head, thinking he was going to mention Kid Cudi or Spongebob.
“She wasn't able to be here tonight because she's too busy in Cincinnati being the best mom ever, but I would like to mention my wife. Thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader, y/n. You've been one of my biggest support systems since I was a scrawny senior in high school. I will always be grateful for everything you’ve done and continue to do that has made me the man and player that I am today. I'll admit, I was super nervous for tonight, and I called y/n in the bathroom. Her voice alone calmed me down, but the words gave me enough confidence to leave my hiding spot in the bathroom stall. Thank you for being my best friend, y/n. I love you more than life.” - Joe
Tears streamed down my face as I listened to his sweet words.
“Oh, and thanks for this award. Who Dey!” - Joe
With that, Joe left the stage and walked back to his seat, more in love than ever.
He'd never felt so happy.
When I heard my phone ding, I thought it would be Robin to point out Joe’s sweet words, but instead, it was Mr. MVP himself.
Did you watch my speech? :)
Yes. Currently crying. I love you so much, Mr. MVP.
I'll only be Mr. MVP if you'll be Mrs. MVP.
I’m not a player, though. 🤨
His next text gave me butterflies, it amazes me that his effect on me hasn't changed even after all of our years together.
Most valuable person, baby. 😁
————————————————————————-
Authors note: short as heck but whatever
Request for this fic;
Hope you enjoyed!
#joe burrow#bengals#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joey b#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow fan fic
395 notes
·
View notes
Note
haiiii!! i was wondering if you be willing to write step dad whesker x reader where you come in from college for a family reunion and he takes you out back behind the building to feel you up, and as he does someone catches you and he continues to fuck you as the family tries to get you both to stop. :3
𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ❦
pairings - Stepdad! Wesker x Fem! Reader
a/n- this is definitely the darkest fic i’ve written so far😭 thank you for the ask!! hope you enjoy (as usual, not proofread so lmk)
𝐂𝐰- Step-cest, exhibitionsm?, cheating, fantasizing, taboo relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Wesker is 48), mild daddy kink, use of praise and pet names, reader is a virgin, unprotected sex, dumbification?, breeding kink if you squint, dacraphylia ꨄ
༺
“It’s so good to have you home, hon!” your mother exclaims, suffocating you with her usual greeting of a hug.
It had been a couple of years since you’d been home. You chose to go to a college a few states away, which your mother absolutely despised. But as an adult, you’re responsible for your own decisions and that’s where you wanted to go.
It was far away, but you could still visit whenever you wanted. Though, simple face-times were more convenient in between those timeframes.
You couldn’t make it to last years family gathering, mostly because it’s on the most random day of the year and you had exams. So this year, you make the effort to come visit.
It was nice to get a break from the burdens of school.
“It’s good to be home,” you reassure your mother with a few awkward back pats before pulling away from the embrace.
“Albert set the TV back up in your old room for the week.”
Convenient. You had almost forgotten about the man your mother married. Or rather, tried to force yourself to forget him.
Wesker came into you and your mother’s life out of nowhere, quickly becoming head of the household. And taking over your thoughts entirely.
He was a fickle man, something about him just always seemed off in a way you couldn’t quite decipher. He was just eerie. Somehow, that was appealing. You found yourself wanting to get closer to the man.
But you would never do that to your poor mother. She loved him a lot, so it seemed. So you just pushed him out of your memory when you left. It was nothing that serious. Never even discussed out loud. Hell, the two of you hardly ever spoke, always awkward around each other.
Especially now, as you pass by on your way to your room.
He just watches, as if inspecting you under a microscope. Not saying a word, just staring all open mouthed like he was going to.
You force a tight lipped smile, directing it to him as a hello. Some things just don’t change. Not even your old bedroom.
But you sure did.
Wesker couldn’t help but notice your major change in wardrobe. He always saw you as the sort of insecure and self conscious type. Now you fully displayed yourself without shame, wearing tighter, more revealing clothing. Shorts so short your ass hangs out around the edges. And your makeup, less minuscule. To say you grew into your looks was an understatement.
You completely changed appearance wise, even if you remained the same inside. He felt like he was looking at you for the first time.
He liked what he saw. A little too much. He knew how wrong it was to see his own stepdaughter in that light, but as he takes in every inch of you, all the blood rushes from his head to his cock, making him shift uncomfortably as his pants suddenly grow to be too tight.
He just leaves without greeting you, welcoming you home like he wanted to originally.
Hopefully you didn’t take it the wrong way, he just desperately needed to relieve himself. To get those dirty thoughts out of his head.
He rushes off to the bathroom, dropping his pants and boxers down to his ankles and immediately gripping his cock. He closes his eyes as he fucks into his hand, using the thought, the image of you in his mind.
Something was seriously wrong with him.
It only took a minute or two before he made a mess of himself, cumming in bursts he’d never experienced. He had never gotten off that fast, or released that much. But with the thought of you, it felt completely different. Completely wrong and so damn good. Was he really that depraved?
Usually he goes back to normal after he finishes, but not this time. It only made him want more.
As he starts to go again, he’s halted by the sound of your mother’s voice. Dinner was ready. She planned all week for this, making sure to make your favorite meal for your first night back.
With a frustrated sigh, he washes the filth from his hands, looking at his face shamefully in the mirror before pulling up his pants again, making his way to the dining room.
You’re already there, sitting quietly at the table. He sits opposite of you, trying to remain as far away as possible. Trying to pretend he didn’t just jerk off pathetically to the thought of you.
“So, Wesker…” you speak up, almost giving the man a heart attack. “Mom told me about the new job you started.”
It takes him a minute to process your statement. He realizes you’re attempting to make conversation with him, clearing his throat before replying. “Yes, pays quite nicely.”
Was that too bland? He shouldn’t have to think this hard for a simple discussion.
“Do you like it?” you try to continue.
He freezes up as you start eating, lips wrapping around the spoon, making direct eye contact with him. He zones out, imagining those pretty lips around his cock, struggling to take him down your throat. Shit. When did he become this desperate?
Again he shifts, feeling that familiar tightness. “I like it just fine. I get a decent amount of time off.”
“Are you looking forward to the cookout tomorrow? Your favorite aunt will be attending I’ve heard.” he continues, hiding the tremble in his voice.
You nod, “It’ll be nice to have everyone together again.” and the conversation ends there, leaving your mother to carry it on throughout the rest of dinner.
He tries his hardest to be normal, refusing to look your way. But he can’t help it. He continues stealing glances at you throughout the meal, writhing in his chair every time you meet his gaze.
By the end of it, he’s in the bathroom again, unable to calm himself down. Meanwhile you’re going to bed without knowing at all.
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
The following day is even worse. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the day without doing something. Let alone the rest of the week that you’re staying.
Half of the family is over, completely taking away any chance of privacy for his restroom breaks. He would just have to deal with it.
That was going to be completely impossible though.
It’s a hot day, you’re dressed in a tank top and an even shorter pair or shorts than the day before. With your hair up, unkempt and out of your face, smiling and laughing so sweetly with the others. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of your exposed skin.
He’s struggling to keep up with his role with the grill, almost burning the food an embarrassing amount of times.
He wanted so badly to slip away again. But even then he wouldn’t be satisfied. Not until he got to have you the way he wanted.
If he was going to survive this family reunion, that’s what had to happen. He just didn’t know how he was going to pull it off. He had a feeling you might be attracted to him, but he was never certain. You hid your feelings better than even he could.
When he notices the grill is running low on charcoal, he sees it as an opportunity. “Could you help me out with getting these bags from the shed? Could use an extra pair of hands.”
Being the good girl you were, you drop everything you’re doing to help him out, following him towards the other side of the house.
He didn’t at all need help. Before you know it, you’re pinned to the wall, silenced by his rough lips taking over yours. He forces your shorts down with ease, dipping his hand directly into your bare cunt while the other holds you there.
You go completely dizzy, not fighting against him. Instead you’re kissing your stepfather back, letting those urges take you over, all the pent up tension that built over the years.
You whimper into his mouth as he rubs at your clit like a mad man, already making you quiver. “What if we get caught..and the neighbors…if they-“
“Let them. They can watch for all I care. I need you, now.” he interjects, and you submit.
He discards his pants, hooking his arms under your thighs to hold you up and aligning himself with your entrance and shoving all the way in, balls deep.
You let out a guttural squeal, clinging onto him with tears welling up in your eyes.
“Holy fuck…” he growls almost animalistic, “So fucking tight. Are you still a virgin?”
You nod. Well, you were. And now your first time was his. Knowing that drove him over the edge. “It’s alright, daddy’s got you. I’ll take care of you, my darling.” he croons.
But that was partially a lie. As much as he didn’t want to end up hurting you, he couldn’t control himself. He tried his best to slow down, but his hips thrusted into you on their own. The head of his cock jabs at your cervix, over and over.
Your nails dig into his back seeking stability and he does his best to hold you.
You’re sobbing, from pain or pleasure he can’t tell. All he knows is it’s turning him on even more. Everytime you whine, it brings him closer.
“You’re okay.”
“Such a good girl, letting me have my way with you. You’re taking me so well.” he coos softly, continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up, you’re going to take it like a good girl, hm?”
You can find the words to speak, only mewling out needy and incoherent attempts at his name. It’s enough to push him over. He cums deep inside, not even attempting at pulling out.
Instead, he continues, stuffing you full of his seed.
His pace doesn’t even slow during the second round, steadily pumping his cock into your walls. You suck him in so tightly as he splits you open mercilessly. As much as he cared for you, nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling his needs.
Not even favorite aunt who’s horrified at the sight in front of her. She grows to be heated, preaching on about how disgusting he is, pleading for him to separate from you.
It goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t even pause to look at her, keeping his eyes on yours. He wasn’t going to stop until he was fully satisfied.
“Just look at me baby, don’t worry. We’re in this together. Daddy’s got you…”
You’re feeling completely humiliated, guilt churning in the pit of your stomach, his cock only stirs it further.
Your aunt fades out to the background, your ears start to ring and your vision goes hazy. You climax so hard you can’t stop your shaking. You tighten up around him in the process, completely draining him into you.
Again he sounds a carnal growl, feeling that sweet release he’s been yearning for.
When he pulls out and sets you down, you’re clinging to him like a whipped dog, soaking his shirt with your tears. It wounds his heart to see you so upset.
He pulls his pants back up, yours as well, zipping up your shorts and buttoning up the button for you. He runs his hands through your disheveled hair and wipes away your streams of tears.
Whatever the consequences were for his actions, he wouldn’t let you go down for it.
The two of you could run away together if needed, he hardly cared all that much for your mother anyway.
Not when you were in town.
#smut#fanfiction#resident evil#anon ask#fem reader#albert wesker#albert wesker x reader#wesker x reader#resident evil 4#resident evil wesker#re5 wesker#re5#re4 wesker#re4#re4 remake#re4make#tw.dark content#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader
327 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I request a fic where the reader walks into the Gallagher house, looking for Ian but instead hears soft panting and groans coming from upstairs. You ignore it until someone shouts your names, looking around to find out what's up reveals lip with his hand down his pants and back arched- whimpering your name until- oop, I'll let you decide how it ends;)
encounters
(Lip Gallagher x Male reader)
nsfw
walking down the street, your phone held to your ear, you hear the call go to voicemail once again. Ian must be busy - working, or fucking, who knows - because he's not picking up your calls. you really need to see him, to talk to him about some family stuff that's been seriously bothering you.
Ian's your best friend. your ride or die. you get along with his whole family. helping Fiona whenever you can, even Lip smokes with you once in a while despite being pretty busy these days.
thinking of your last option, you decide to stop by the Gallagher house. you still have a spare key from sometime Ian let you borrow one. unlocking the door, you enter nonchalantly. the Gallagher household is like a second home to you, so there's no real boundaries for when you arrive. you kind of just...come and go.
"Ian?", you call out, to no answer. no sign of him, in fact, the whole house seems pretty empty. must be a busy day. you try shouting a couple more times, still to no reply.
figuring since you walked all the way here, to no avail, you may as well take a minute to rest on the couch. and take a beer from the fridge, what's one missing, right?
relaxing on the couch, sipping the beer (which always tastes better when stolen from the Gallagher fridge) you suddenly hear your name. you figure you must've misheard something, or imagined it completely - probably sleep deprivation, it wasn't a great night.
then you hear it again. it's loud in the way you can tell it's not meant to be shouted, so it's not like anyone's calling to you. it's kind of desperate. like someone's running, chasing you, trying to get your attention.
weirded out, you set your beer on the table and stand up, warily approaching the stairs. listening in, you hear a couple more sounds. there's a kind of out of breath panting. shortly after, another breathy call of your name.
perhaps against your better judgement, you ascend the stairs, making sure to be quiet - just in case. the sound of quiet groans becomes more clear as you reach the top of the steps.
"what the fuck-", you whisper to yourself. the sounds are coming from the spare room. where Lip's been sleeping. pressing your ear to the door, you hear the chorus of moans, groans, pants and desperate iterations of your name.
your face burns bright red, and a familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement pools in your stomach. the truth is, you've always found Lip crazy attractive. he's rough around the edges, intelligent and honest. and surprisingly, very loyal and caring. in short, he's sweet and hot. you'd be lying if you didn't say he was definitely one of the better perks of being Ian's best friend.
you wonder for a split second if what you're about to do is a good idea, before deciding you don't really care. you push open the door and see Lip in his rather desperate position. he's spread across the bed, dressed in only boxers and a tank top. his face is red from panting, and his back is arching him off the bed.
he's clearly very into his self pleasure, so he doesn't seem to notice you right away. trembling with every step, you move towards the bed, stopping by the side. one of Lip's eyes open and look at you. shockingly, he doesn't freak out. he doesn't even seem embarrassed. he is, as usual, cool as can be. he says nothing, just looks at you. his remaining pants turn into a bit of a chuckle.
hesitantly, you sit close to Lip on the bed. he furrows his brow at you. looking him right in the eyes, taking a deep breath. you reach and grab the bulge in his boxers. Lip's breath hitches.
he's absolutely rock hard and you can feel it. you can feel the strain, the need. you want to relieve Lip of this. of everything. you want to help him.
kissing him forcefully, you don't waste any time. hand reaching inside his boxers to stroke where he needs you most. he groans immediately. he grabs the wrist of the hand you're touching him with, he guides you up and down, faster. gripping your hand, making you hold him tighter.
his eyes are squeezed so tightly shut, his head is thrown back. harshly, with little to no patience, Lip grabs the back of your head, taking a second to play with your hair. there's that playful softness. the reason you've always liked Lip. the roughness, the want and need for something more, paired with a gentle goofyness. he flashes you a smile and before you can even go in to kiss him again - which you really want to do - he's guided your head downwards.
you figure there will be time for intimacy once the rush is over. eager to fulfill Lip's fantasy, - if you're honest, it's definitely yours too - you dip your head down immediately. taking him into your mouth, and he groans louder then ever. his big hands immediately grip onto your hair.
your hands are resting on his thighs as you bob your head up and down. he lets go of his iron grip on your hair to sit up and take off his wife-beater, the only piece of clothing he still has on.
he's glistening with sweat, you reach your hands up to feel his chest. when you groan around him at the feeling of his strong body, he growls in appreciation.
his grip tightens, back arching again. you pick up the pace, putting your all into giving Lip what he wants. what he needs. his groans get deeper, growls more frequent. you can tell by the tightness of his grip on your head that he's close. really close.
"fuck...", Lip grumbles, his deep voice rings out and settles in your head. playing on loop. fuck, fuck, fuck.
he cums with a deep shout of pleasure, arched body spasming as he pulls harshly on your hair.
working him through his aftershocks, his tensed body falls backwards onto the bed. his hand wipes sweat from his forehead. his hand, joined with yours, pulls you to lie next to him.
he turns to you, "fuck me, Y/N. didn't know you were so wild." he chuckles, blue eyes glossed over. in the afterglow of your hot encounter, you take a second to appreciate his boyish beauty. his curls, messed up from rolling around in his bed. smug smirk, a smile that reaches his bright eyes.
he glances down to see that you are, obviously, very hard. smiling to himself, he figures he'll give something new a shot today. he grabs your head, gently this time, and kisses your forehead. there's the intimacy.
he's rubbing you through your jeans, biting his lip in anticipation.
fuck.
(finished this one for the very nice anon 👌 )
#ooft#lip gallagher x male reader#male reader#x reader#shameless#mlm#smut#lip gallagher x reader#p4rallel-universe
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
twins | mark estapa
…be nice. this is the first time i’m posting a fic.
thanks for the giving me the kick to write this @hischierhaze
and @thatintrovertedwriter here’s part one!
part two will come in a bit
now goodbye while i panic over peoples reactions
in which you and mark are two hotheads
it wasn’t like people didn’t know mark. he infamously had led the big10 in penalty minutes, was a good player to go along with said stat, and was incredibly easy on the eyes.
but it wasn't that people didn’t know you, either. “y/n” or rather “sunshine” as you were more commonly called, was a bit of a household name on campus. the irony in the name? you were anything but. known for not only leading the michigan women’s soccer team in yellow and red cards, but also the big10.
so safe to say, both of you were fairly known, and for quite similar reasons. yet, no one seemed to see your relationship coming.
you guys first met at a party during welcome week. the party wasn't exclusive, per say, but it was safe to say the majority of the crowd was athletes, looking for a safe place to party, ensuring no pictures would make their way back to their respective coaches.
you had been stumbling around the kitchen, drunkenly searching for the cooler your teammate had said she had hidden in the maze-like kitchen of whatever frat house you were in. but as you turned around, ready to settle for the bud light in the living room, you spotted your bottle of vodka in the grasp of a blonde boy.
and while this wouldn’t have pissed you off normally, the bottle had “property of sunshine” boldly printed on it in sharpie, so safe to say, you were a little more than pissed.
“who the fuck do you think you are?” you screamed, shoving your finger into his chest.“woah uh-” the blonde boy tried to get out, but you kept going. “drinking someone else's bottle of alcohol?! i mean i’d get it if it didn't have a name on it, but it quite literally says “property of sunshine” but apparently you just can’t fucking read, can you?”
the boy was silent for a moment, until he laughed. “you're- you’re sunshine? isn’t that ironic.”
“ha, ha. kind of like that’s the fucking point, dumbass,” and as his mouth drops from your comment, you take the opportunity to swipe the vodka bottle from his hands. “i’d say thanks for finding my vodka, but seeing as i found you drinking it, to that i say, fuck you,” and you staggered away, lifting the bottle to your lips, the boy staring longingly after you.
mark was completely and utterly fucked, to the point where it took him a moment to realize… he didn’t even get your name.
~ the morning after
now the day after the party, you weren’t doing too hot. safe to say, you definitely should’ve let the blonde boy keep your vodka.
as shitty as you felt, by the grace of everything holy, you managed to muster up enough strength to walk to the cafe, seeking a cure to the pounding headache and extreme nausea you were nursing after your bad decisions the night prior.
however, someone you didn’t expect to see in your place of solace? the blonde boy you had screamed at the night before, tucked into the corner booth of the cafe, seemingly in a state similar to yourself.
in a split second decision, you decided to apologize for your behavior the night before, regretting (only slightly, but regret nonetheless) how you had drunkenly handled the situation.
you quickly made your way to the bar to order. “can I get a venti iced caffe mocha, and a croissant?” and then shyly added on, “and another of whatever the blonde boy in the corner is having, please.”
“trying to shoot your shot?,” the barista asked teasingly. “trying to apologize,” you muttered back, backing up to wait for your order.
once they called your name, you quickly grabbed your order. you took a deep breath, turned around, and cautiously made your way to the boy.
once you got within a foot of his table, you accidentally made eye contact with him, before holding the drink out, and quietly saying, “here… this is for you.”
he apprehensively took the drink in his hands, but before taking a sip, he spun the drink, glancing at the name on the order. “just trying to make sure it doesn’t have your name on it y/n, wouldn’t want you to scream at me again,” he let out, words laced with an emotion impossible to detect.
“that’s actually what I came over here for. I wanted to apologize for acting like that. normally if that happened, i’d just move on with my night. it just pissed me off that someone decided to take the bottle, even though I had written “property of sunshine” on it,” you said, quickly word-vomiting your thoughts out.
“I get it, I shouldn't have taken alcohol that was clearly hidden. i promise to look before drinking next time, sunshine,” he stated with a matching teasing grin and tone.
“I know it’s probably a little late for introductions, but you wouldn’t mind telling me your name, seeing as you know mine,” you questioned. “mark, mark estapa,” he responded with a grin, teasing tone now absent, replaced with what you hoped to be a more genuine tone.
and with that simple utterance, you knew you were fucking screwed.
~ weeks later
in the weeks following your conversation with mark in the cafe, you got impossibly close. if you guys weren’t hanging out on “study not-date-dates”, or having movie nights cooped up in your room, you were constantly texting, constantly talking to one another. yet, you guys never spoke about the obvious feelings the two of you had for one another, both too nervous to actually broach the subject.
until after your first game of the season.
more specifically, it was on the way back from the first game of the season. a game in which, despite the team coming out on top, and you also managing to bag a goal, you also picked up your first yellow card of the season. a teammate had even declared as much, belting out a “sunshine is back in business everybody!” as the team left the field.
unknowingly, the social media admin had clipped the moment, even including a glimpse of your cocky, but tired grin.
mark was now a little confused. of course he knew you were on the soccer team. in fact, it was one of the first things he learned about you. but the fact that the team was where the nickname “sunshine” came from? now that- that was new.
he quickly shot you a text, waiting eagerly for a response.
miles away, your phone dinged with a text tone specifically reserved for your favorite blonde haired boy. at the sound, you quickly darted for your phone.
“sunshine’s lover booooy is texting her” a teammate teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair affectionately.
you groaned at the action, before opening mark’s text
“i never asked, but why do they call you sunshine?”
and at that, you froze, instantly hit with the brutal words of a past boyfriend, “you do realize how fucking unattractive that is, right? losing your shit like that isn’t as cool as you think- it just tells people that you have serious issues, you fucking psycho.”
while you almost considered lying for a moment, you knew the truth would be better in the long run.
“last season, i led both the team, and the big10 in yellow and red cards. because of that, they thought giving me a nickname completely opposite of my attitude on the field was the funniest shit ever. it doesn't help that my personality off the field isn't too different from me on it- only true difference is that im a hell of a lot less aggressive.”
and quickly followed it up with a message reading, “I'm sorry if you don’t want to associate with me anymore. I know losing your temper constantly isn’t the most attractive thing in the world, but I can't control it. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s how you end up feeling,” before shutting off your phone, prepared to lose the boy who had managed to weasel his way into your heart the past few weeks.
mark froze for a second. there’s no fucking way the universe led him to someone exactly like him. what was it that one tiktok ethan had sent him said- twinflames? there was no fucking way.
except there was. because she was on the other side of the phone, probably freshly showered after her game (which he had seen they had won 3-0), with her hair cutely braided to the side, like she often did during their movie nights.
once he came out of his daze, he glanced down at his phone again, seeing her most recent text- “I'm sorry if you don’t want to associate with me anymore. I know losing your temper constantly isn’t the most attractive thing in the world, but I can't control it. I’ll leave you alone.”
and he panicked, quickly hitting facetime.
you glanced down at your ringing phone, seemingly in disbelief, and a little scared, at hearing the custom tone.
“I THINK YOU'RE PERFECT! you losing your shit doesn't matter to me- in fact, im the same damn way. I dont know who the hell had the audacity to shame you for your attitude while playing, but fuck them. they do not matter. they're not the ones that play the game, so they don’t have a say in how you play. you are the most kind-hearted person i know, and your heart is one of the reasons i love you. if your in-game attitude really is that big of a problem-”
and then mark froze, seeing your stunned expression. “what’s wrong baby?” noticing the nickname slip, but not drawing attention to it.
“I-i, you- i- i love you too.”
“what?”
“you said you love me, and i love you too, unless you didn’t mean i them i totally didn't eit-”
“NO- i love you baby. I’d honestly go as far as to say I've loved you since I met you. something about your fiery attitude immediately had me hooked, and as i’ve gotten to know you, i've become downright infatuated.”
both of you were now grinning at each other ear to ear, a blush rising quickly to the both of your faces.
“wanna go on a date tomorrow?” you both blurted out at the same time. “let me plan it baby, promise i’ll impress you.” “okay- its a date.”
and if mark immediately texted ethan for date ideas after you hung up the call a few minutes later- well you didn’t need to know that.
#umich hockey#mark estapa#mark estapa x reader#hockey imagines#umich hockey imagine#mark estapa imagine#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#hockey imagine#nhl fic#mark twins fic
302 notes
·
View notes
Text
Adventures In Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 1
Chapter Summary: You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house.
Content warning: swearing, inter-dimensional demogorgon bullshit, kind of strangers to friends to lovers (not necessarily all in this chapter), stancy, slow burn
Word Count: 6.5k
Author’s note: This is my first fic and it isn’t super original; it pretty much sticks to the plot of the show, but adds you to the mix! I tend to like fics that put the reader directly into the Stranger Things universe, demogorgons and all, so this chapter roughly follows Steve’s involvement in season 1 episode 8 when he goes to the Byers’ residence. This is more of a prologue and I plan to be more original with the story as it goes on, but it will still largely follow the plot lines of the series, so if that’s something you’re looking for, you’ve found it here!
Series Masterlist | Next Part
***
You knocked quickly on the door in front of you, eyes darting left and right to take in your surroundings. You were out of place here among the upper class houses in the neighborhood, with your hand-me-down and thrifted clothes screaming the opposite of prosperity. You were antsy, weight shifting from foot to foot; in fact, you were almost confident that if any of the neighbors were out and caught a glimpse of your obviously anxious form, they’d put a call in to the Hawkins police in an instant. You didn’t belong here. You scoffed at the thought. Though every fiber of your being was telling you—no, screaming at you—to leave, you really didn’t have a choice.
Not to mention the address you were at housed probably the last person you would ever actively seek out. He probably didn’t want to see you either, if you were being honest.
“Come on. Just answer,” You muttered through gritted teeth as you raised your hand to knock once more. However, before your hand could even make contact with the nice, expensive oak of the front door, it opened and you were met with the annoyed and confused glare of the one and only Steve Harrington. The expression on his face didn’t surprise you but the state of it did. Bruises and cuts littered his otherwise perfect skin, leaving you with a lot more questions than you had originally intended on asking.
“What do you want?” His words were direct, his tone short and clipped, drained from what on the outside seemed to be quite an eventful day.
“I-I, uh…I’m sorry, but what happened to you?” You breathed out. You had more pressing concerns, but you couldn’t help but wonder why King Steve of Hawkins High looked like absolute shit.
“I don’t have time for this,” he sighed as he began to shut the door.
You reached your hand through just in time to catch it as you shoved your way into the Harrington household. You knew his parents were likely on some sort of fancy business trip, so they wouldn’t be there to reprimand you for your actions. It’s what made Steve’s house the prime destination for the biggest parties in Hawkins. Parties you were rarely, if ever, invited to.
“What the hell are you doing?! I barely even know you and now you’re breaking and fucking entering into my goddamn house!”
“Technically, I’m just entering. You opened the door.”
“Are you kidding me right now, y/n?”
You were surprised he even knew your name. You tended to blend into the background, flying under the radar in your attempt to make good enough grades to maybe, just maybe, give yourself a fighting chance at attending college on scholarships. “Will you just hear me out. Please.”
You must have sounded desperate because Steve’s furrowed brow relaxed, his expression softening before he rolled his eyes, sitting down on a pristine white couch saying, “Fine. But make it quick because I have a raging headache and my patience is wearing thin.”
You breathed in a deep breath before you rattled off your reason for trespassing.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but I happen to babysit Dustin Henderson—or, well to be more accurate, I just started babysitting Dustin Henderson since Jonathon Byers’ brother disappeared—and everything was going fine one minute, but then I went to check on him in his room because he was being awfully quiet, and then I noticed his window was open and he must’ve snuck out, and—“
He cut you off, “Woah, woah, woah. How does any of this concern me? I mean, it’s not my fault you’re clearly a shit babysitter and can’t keep track of some seventh grader.”
“If you would just let me finish,” you warned through gritted teeth, “I’m aware of the fact that it doesn’t concern you, but I’ve been looking all over for him and I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve checked the Sinclair’s, I’ve checked the Wheeler’s, I’ve checked every location a seventh grade nerd might frequent, nothing. So, yeah, though it doesn’t concern you, I thought I might find Nancy here, given the fact that the two of you have obviously been going out, to ask her where the hell her brother is so that maybe, just maybe, I could find the damn kid I’m babysitting before I get fired from my fucking job. Now, if you could stop being so goddamn selfish for once in your life, I would really appreciate the help.”
Steve paused for a moment while he considered this. Being called selfish stung, but you weren’t wrong. The events leading to the myriad of injuries across his face seemed to prove just that. However, there was something about you in particular saying it that cut deep. You were seemingly so perfect, granted a bit odd. You were nice, you made good grades, but other than that he didn’t know much about you, so the expletive-laced explanation was a bit out of place coming from your mouth.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re a little too late to find Nancy here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she didn’t say it, but I take it things are probably pretty over between us.”
This was surprising to say the least. Nancy Wheeler wasn’t someone who you would have guessed would go for a total asshole jock like Steve, but even you had to admit, he was easy on the eyes. Your heart skipped a bit at the thought, as you suddenly also remembered that you basically broke into the house of the most popular kid at your high school. One whom you’d never really spoken to in any meaningful sense before this very instant.
“What happened?” You asked hesitantly, taking a step towards Steve as your fingers hovered over his forearm. Even though you hated nearly everything Steve stood for—popularity, prosperity, assholery—you felt compelled to comfort him. Something about him was different than you expected. When he didn’t pull away, you let your hand rest there.
“Well, speaking of Jonathan Byers, we kind of got into…an altercation. I would like to say that I won, but I think it’s clear that I didn’t. I was with Tommy H and Carol and he spray painted a bunch of awful shit about Nancy and Jonathan all over town, and I didn’t stop him, so yeah, things aren’t what I would call good between me and Nancy right now.”
Your comforting instinct told you to apologize, sympathize, but you weren’t going to condone his actions. You’d seen the “Nancy ‘the Slut’ Wheeler” graffiti earlier in your mad dash to locate Dustin. Though you didn’t know her super well, Nancy had been nothing but nice to you and she definitely didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.
“Well, how do you…feel about it?” You asked gently, internally cringing at your anxiety forcing you to find something to fill the silence with.
“I mean, definitely not good. I was an ass, and I know it, and as much as I hate that I screwed things up with Nancy, I think I’m more so realizing how shitty I was to Jonathan. I mean, he’s got enough going on without me making things more difficult…I need to make things right.” He stood up abruptly, quickly grabbing his car keys from a likely expensive decorative dish on the side table by the door.
“Woah, wait! You’re just going to leave me?” You asked incredulously. “Steve, I-I….I need help.”
“You can come with me,” he responded as he spun his keys around his index finger.
“What?”
“To the Byers’ house? You know, kill two birds with one stone? I apologize to Jonathan, you ask about the Henderson kid. Hell, you might even luck out and find him there, so what do you say?” He explained as he placed his hand gently on your back, leading you out the front door, down the driveway to his car. You tried not to think about the way his hand felt on the expanse of your back. Before you could say no, he was opening the passenger’s side door for you.
Your eyes met his, your mouth slightly parted as you weighed your options. Sure, you could handle yourself fine on the way to Jonathan’s house…but then on the other hand, Steve had a car and you didn’t, and with all of the weird things going on in Hawkins recently, it was probably best not to be a young woman walking around on her own, especially now that you were losing light. Safety reasons aside, the element that settled the internal argument for you was the look in Steve’s eyes. He wanted to do better. He wanted to be better. Who were you to deny him that?
You breathed in once more, shaking your head as you breathed out. “Alright. Let’s go.”
***
Being in Steve’s car was, needless to say, a bit awkward. You both had your own problems, brought together by chaos and regret, a combination which didn’t make for great small talk.
“So, Nancy Wheeler, huh?” You asked in an attempt to ease the tension, needing to rid the car of the weight of the uncomfortable silence.
“Yep,” Steve muttered, eyes focused on the road.
“She’s pretty cool. I mean, she’s always been nice to me.”
“She’s the best.”
You weren’t sure why, but this comment made your heart sink a little in your chest. Though Nancy had always been nice, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of her. She stood out in a way that you never could. She was smart but had the money to back it up, which, in terms of social status, meant that she mattered and you didn’t. You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely functioning, picking up odd jobs all the time just to support yourself in the way your family couldn’t. You barely had the time to study or have fun, becoming the background character to everyone else’s life. Hell, you weren’t even sure you had a starring role in your own. She was also pretty in a way that you could never be, with her big blue eyes and thin frame making clearly even the douchiest of douchebags swoon. Steve was living proof.
“Y/n? Did you even hear anything I just said?” Steve’s voice finally flooded your consciousness, drawing you away from your thoughts and feelings of inadequacy.
You shook your head trying to clear out the negativity. “Sorry! I was-I just zoned out for a second, my bad,” You chuckled, your smile not quite reaching your eyes.
“I asked you why you were babysitting the Henderson kid anyway. It just seems like something that you wouldn’t be interested in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know, you’re…different. Yeah, you’re nice and make good grades and whatever, but you’re also pretty edgy. You seem like one of those weird, alt kids that would be into like pretty heavy music and shit, and babysitting just seems a little too suburban-status-quo for someone like you.”
You stared at him blankly, not really sure how to answer given that his words were more a statement of assumptions rather than a question. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interjected before you could even say anything.
“That came out wrong. What I’m saying is that you’ve always struck me as a little bit intimidating because you’re actually an individual; you don’t follow the crowd which, I mean, is admirable, but babysitting? Come on. I’m as stereotypical as they come, and I wouldn’t even babysit, especially not for some thirteen-year-old misfit who seems like more of a handful than its worth.”
“Well, for starters, you’re a guy, so no shit you’re not babysitting the youth of Hawkins, and also, I just need the money, which I’m sure is a foreign concept to you. And babysitting is kind of a piece of cake…normally. Henderson is a special case; he’s too smart for his own good.”
Steve laughed and you blushed, grateful for the darkness to hide the heat in your cheeks. His words felt like they were trying to be a compliment, but you weren’t sure how to interpret them. You guessed that maybe you stood out at least a little bit more than you had initially thought. By his description, people must be noticing you to some extent. He was noticing you.
You shook your head at the thought. What had gotten into you? Half an hour ago you hated this man, but now you weren’t too sure. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.
With Hawkins being a small town in rural Indiana, the drive was not long, so your conversation ended here as you pulled up to the Byers’ residence. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw the tarp-covered hole in the front of the house. From speaking with Mrs. Henderson, you knew how much of a toll her son’s disappearance had taken on Joyce. Both of you got out of the car and you made your way to the front door.
Steve knocked. When there was no response, he banged on the door again. “Jonathan! Are you there man? It’s—it’s Steve! Listen, I just want to talk.”
He continued to bang on the door. You were about to reach up and stop him, tell him that it was enough and clearly no one was home, when the door opened a crack and you were met eye to eye with Nancy Wheeler. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw you, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second before her expression settled and her brows furrowed.
“Steve, listen to me.”
“Hey. Nancy, what—“
“You need to leave. Both of you,” she added as she turned to meet your eyes. She was serious, her expression stern, but there was something else there…desperation maybe?
“I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve pleaded. It didn’t make a difference, as Nancy had clearly made up her mind.
“I don’t care about that. You need to leave. Now.”
“No, no, listen, I messed up…I messed up, and I just want to make things right.” Steve was desperate, you could hear it in his voice. You wanted to try and reason with Nancy, speak on behalf of Steve, but it wasn’t your place. You went to cast your gaze downwards, trying to give the two of them a private moment, but Nancy’s gauze-wrapped hand caught your eye instead.
“Hey, what happened to your hand?” You asked hesitantly, brow furrowed, “is that…is that blood?”
You went to gently reach for her hand but she quickly drew it back and out of sight, but it was too late. Say what you will about Steve, but he was protective to a fault, and in seeing Nancy hurt, any desire to make things right with Jonathan quickly dissipated.
“It’s nothing! It-It was an accident.”
“Wait a sec. Did he do this to you? Nancy, let me in!” Steve demanded as he pushed into the Byers’ home, not dissimilar to how you had intruded upon the Harrington residence earlier. You entered behind him. Under any normal circumstances, you probably would have felt awkward, but instead you were too preoccupied with Steve’s short temper and the fires you knew you would inevitably have to put out.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have the premonition to know the literal nature of that preoccupation.
Crossing the threshold of the Byers’ residence, you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at, but it did make your heart stop in your chest. You momentarily locked eyes with Jonathan as you looked around the room. There were multicolored lights strewn about the whole house, makeshift weapons on the coffee table, the entire alphabet painted sloppily on the wallpaper, and Jonathan’s hand had the same blood soaked gauze as Nancy’s.
“What is…what the…what is all of this?” Steve demanded.
“You need to get out of here. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Jonathan grabbed the fabric of Steve’s shirt attempting to force him out of the living room, but Steve planted his feet.
“Is that….is that gasoline?!” You stammered as the rest of your senses finally showed up. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and you felt like at any moment you might have a panic attack. You took a shaky breath as you attempted to calm yourself down.
“Steve! Get out!” Nancy shouted. The distinct click of a gun rang out, and Steve froze, eyes fixed on the revolver in Nancy’s hand, pointed directly at him. Jonathan’s grip loosened on Steve’s shirt as he stepped away, shock registering on his face as well.
Something was obviously very wrong. You pushed your anxiety deep down in your chest, and you took a step forward. If I could just talk to her, you thought, I can deescalate this.
“Nancy—“ you began cautiously, but as soon as you took a step she pivoted and now you were the one staring down the barrel of a gun. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly raised trembling hands in front of your chest. “I think you need to calm down.”
“I think you need to leave,” she responded, her voice icy. Suddenly, Steve bounded forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind him. Once you were hidden behind his tall figure, you allowed yourself to break down a little, pressing yourself against him for some semblance of security.
“Is this a joke, Nancy? Put the gun down!”
“I’m doing this for you.”
“What is this?! What does that even mean?” He yelled back at her, but his words weren’t doing anything to help. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and his grip tightened. He was holding onto you just as much as you were holding onto him, with a fistful of his shirt balled into your delicate hand as you attempted to ground yourself. It felt intimate, and if it weren’t for your current predicament, you would have been embarrassed.
“Three. Two—“
“Nancy! The lights!” Jonathan shouted, and you peeled your face away from the solace of Steve’s back, watching as the lights flickered with a raging entropy, making it nearly impossible for your eyes to navigate the small room.
“Where is it? I don’t see it!” Nancy cried out and for the first time in the craze of blinking lights and shouting, you saw the fear on her face, her previous stoic facade shattering in the chaos. Seeing the fright in her eyes made your stomach drop, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?!” Steve shouted and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Even with the family room being sporadically lit up like a Christmas tree, you and Steve were very much still in the dark.
No sooner had he said it did the ceiling begin to crack, something large writhing as it made its way into the small house from above. Nancy began shooting at it as you stood frozen. Finally, it burst through the drywall, falling to the floor on all fours. If someone asked you to describe what you had seen, you weren’t sure what you would’ve even said. It had pale skin, nearly translucent, and made an awful chattering sound as it started to gather its bearings.
“Go! Go! Run! Go!” Jonathan started shouting as he grabbed Nancy around the waist and shoved her in front of him as she darted down the hall. Steve turned around and did the same, his hands harshly grabbing at your sides to redirect you as you formed a human chain; Jonathan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, and your other hand wrapped around Steve’s as you made a mad dash to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
In all the commotion you barely heard Jonathan shout “jump!” narrowly missing the open bear trap on the floor. You shrieked and willed yourself to be coordinated for once in your damn life as you hurdled over the metal teeth of the trap, blindly trusting that Steve’s athleticism would kick in and he would do the same. A low growl sounded out just as the bedroom door slammed shut behind Steve, his momentum causing him to collide into you. You would have toppled over if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, as he reached out to steady your shoulders.
“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s all going to be okay,” Steve frantically whispered, his hands still holding together your shaking form, as you stumbled backwards and collapsed down on the bed. His lips were dangerously close to your ear, and he brought a hand to the base of your neck, drawing his fingers down to your shoulder to reassure you. He was barely holding it together himself, scared out of his mind, but he brought you into this mess and he was determined to protect you first. “What the hell was that?!”
“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan yelled in unison. Everyone’s gaze then fixed on the yoyo that was precariously draped over the chair. Your heart thundered in your ears, your eyes welling with tears as you held your breath and waited. The lights continued to flicker, until a jolt of electricity rang out and they became static. The silence was unnerving.
“Do you hear anything?” Nancy asked.
Jonathan shook his head and slowly opened the door. The four of you stepped into the quiet of the hallway, eyes fixed on the undisturbed bear trap in the middle of the carpet. You all cautiously made your way back to the disheveled family room of the Byers’ house, Nancy and Jonathan prepped with their weapons in hand.
“This is…this—this is crazy!” Steve shouted, running his hands through his perfect hair.
You tugged on his sleeve trying to draw his attention away from what just happened; this was already a shit show, the last thing you needed was Steve losing his mind. “Steve, you need to calm down,” you begged, still shaken from before.
“Y/n, how the hell am I supposed to calm down?! This isn’t a situation where you can calm the fuck down! What the hell is going on?!” He continued to shout, grabbing your wrist and shoving it away. You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt. You hated how quickly he had gone from comforting to cold.
Before you could open your mouth to speak, Nancy spoke up, “It’s going to come back! So you need to leave. Right now.”
Steve grabbed your wrist, your body lurching as your trajectory quickly changed, the inertia causing you to stumble while your feet attempted to keep up with Steve’s large strides. Steve fumbled with his keys as you reached the car. His shaky hands finally unlocked the door and he swung it open, about to sit when he realized that you had stopped following him, still positioned in front of the house.
“Y/n, what are you doing?”
“Steve, we can’t leave, are you kidding me? They’re in way over their heads. They need help.”
“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you in there. It’s not up for discussion,” Steve argued, stepping around the door and reaching out to grab your wrist again. You quickly stepped back, pulling your hands out of his reach.
“Y/n, you’re not going back in there. I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I,” you shot back, turning back towards the door. You heard him call out your name again, but you were already through the front door, back in the discomfort of the Byers’ family room.
“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here? I said to leave,” Nancy warned.
“I’m not leaving. You guys need help, and I want to help.”
“Y/n—“ Jonathan began, but his warning was cut short when the lights began to flash again. You quickly grabbed a large kitchen knife from the pile of improvised weapons on the coffee table and met Nancy and Jonathan back to back in the center of the room.
“Where is it?” You asked, trying to shove the fear in your chest down, hoping it was a false alarm, that the wiring was screwy, that you were safe.
“Come out, you son of a bitch!” Jonathan yelled out. You willed your hands not to shake as you tightened your grip on the handle of the knife. Suddenly the lights went out, plunging the room into inky black darkness. You blinked rapidly, a futile attempt to get your eyes to adjust to the pitch black room.
You heard a low growl before Nancy exclaimed, “Y/N!”
You spun around, eyes meeting the nine-foot hulking form of whatever the hell this thing was, standing less than a foot from you. You didn’t even have time to scream as it lunged at you, pinning you to the floor. Your knife fell from your grasp, clamoring across the hardwood. You wish you could go back to when you hadn’t had a good look at the monster. Now you stared wide eyed as its face opened up revealing countless rows of razor sharp teeth as it shrieked, spewing thick drool across your face.
“Help me! Please! Nancy!” You screamed out as you writhed under the pressure of the beast. Its clawed fingers began tightening around your upper arm, ripping into your skin as you cried out in pain. It reared back to scream its ear piercing scream again, but something collided with it, knocking it off-kilter. Its long claws dragged across the flesh of your arm, etching larger gashes as its grip began to release.
You took this opportunity to slip away, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees as you grabbed the kitchen knife, turning around to slash the monster’s achilles. It cried out, turning back towards you, this time far angrier than it had been in the first place. This was when you realized that the collision from before had been Steve, swinging Jonathan’s nail bat as hard as he could at the creature.
He had come back for you.
He continued to swing the bat with all his might, causing the monster to stumble backwards until the resonant clang of metal hitting against metal rang out.
“He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” Steve yelled out, causing the rest of you to spring into action.
“Jonathan, now!” Nancy shouted. Jonathan hurtled around the corner, the unmistakable flick of a lighter sounding out before he tossed it in the gasoline soaked carpet. The hallway erupted in flames that were almost too bright to bear, as the four of you covered your eyes. You took this opportunity to sprint back to the family room, quickly grabbing the fire extinguisher laid out on the rug, before bounding back to the hallway.
“Get back!” You shouted as you desperately tried to put out the fire before you were all suffocated in a fiery mix of ash and smoke. You all coughed as the smoke cleared, revealing that the monster had disappeared, no longer stuck between the teeth of the bear trap.
“Where did it go?” Nancy hesitantly asked.
“It has to be dead. It has to be,” Jonathan said, though it seemed more like he was saying it to convince himself; to speak it into existence.
Suddenly the string lights started blinking again, this time in a line leading toward them in the hallway. Your breath caught in your throat, and Steve protectively pushed himself in front of you and Nancy. The lights then blinked again, this time in a line towards the front door. This time they weren’t the erratic display of chaos from earlier, but rather an orderly demonstration of cosmos. The four of you cautiously followed the lights, weapons drawn just in case.
“Mom?” You heard Jonathan quietly ask. His eyes welled with tears, and you immediately wanted to hug the boy. He’d been through so much. He didn’t deserve this; none of you did.
You followed the lights outside the house, watching the streetlight gently flicker before all trace of the paranormal phenomenon dissipated.
“Where’s it going?” You asked quietly.
“I don’t think that’s the monster,” Jonathan responded. He didn’t elaborate and none of you asked.
Steve quickly turned to you, gently grabbing your wrist. “Y/n, you’re bleeding,” he said, his eyes widening as they focused on your blood soaked sleeve.
“It doesn’t matter. Where’s Dustin? Please tell me one of you knows,” you turned to ask Nancy and Jonathan, both of them caught off guard by your question.
“Uh, I think it really does matter, y/n. We don’t even know what the hell that thing was! You can’t just ignore—“
“They’re at the school,” Nancy interrupted. She wanted to argue with you too, to tell you that you definitely needed medical attention, but she also knew you weren’t going to listen. Hell, you’d just run back into a house with an inter-dimensional threat so her and Jonathan wouldn’t have to face it on their own.
You turned back towards Steve. “Steve, I promise I’ll let you take me to the urgent care or the hospital or whatever if you just please let me go make sure he’s okay,” you pleaded. Tears were welling in your eyes and Steve realized that he wasn’t going to be able to say no to you.
“Fine, but this is fucked up.”
***
By the time you pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins middle, it was swarming with police cars and emergency vehicles. You felt nauseous and negligent, as you frantically scanned, looking for the curly mop of hair hidden under a baseball cap. Before Steve stopped the car, you flung your door open, jogging across the lot, calling out for the boy.
“Dustin! Dustin Henderson!”
“Woah, woah, woah! You can’t just jump out of a moving vehicle!” Steve caught up with you. He wanted to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder to rein you in a little, but he decided against it, not recalling which one was torn up. You had to be in excruciating pain, but you didn’t show it. She’s pretty damn tough, Steve thought to himself. Suddenly, you both saw the Henderson boy, chatting away with Lucas Sinclair, as if nothing had happened.
“Henderson!” You growled, marching across the parking lot towards the young child.
“Y/n, I can explain—“
“Do you have any idea the hell I just went through trying to find your ass?! Where the hell were you?!”
“You’re not going to believe me, but there’s this alternate—wait, what the hell happened to your arm?”
You looked at Steve, trying to silently decide how much to tell the young boy. He was just a kid; he didn’t need to be mixed up in all of this, and neither did Lucas. To be perfectly honest, neither did the two of you, but you couldn’t change what happened. You broke eye contact with Steve and looked at Dustin, lips slightly parted as you tried to find the right words to say. Before you could even say anything, Dustin broke the silence.
“It was the demogorgon, wasn’t it?”
“What in the fresh hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, growing tired of this kid who had inadvertently caused you to risk your life trying to find him instead of just listening to his damn babysitter.
“Monster, big and scary, likely inter-dimensional?”
“You…But how do you…you know about all of this?” You asked, your heart sinking knowing that you couldn’t protect him from this.
“It took Will, and we’ve been trying to find him,” Lucas chimed in.
“B-but…but there was a funeral. He died,” you stammered, your heart aching this time as you thought back to Jonathan and Joyce and how miserable they had been over the loss of the young child.
“Look, y/n, I’m sorry I snuck out but it was to find Will. I can explain the rest but it’s going to take a while and you might want to sit down,” Dustin hesitantly spoke.
“You’re so damn lucky your mom is out of town for the next few days,” you spoke through gritted teeth, but you sat down and you listened to the boy.
***
After his explanation, you and Steve were, needless to say, a bit stunned and speechless. How the hell did three middle school boys figure all of that out? And a girl with a shaved head and super powers? You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Hawkins Chief of Police Jim Hopper knew about all of this either. What was there that you could trust? Your head started to spin and you were getting a bit nauseous at the thought.
“I mean, this is wild Henderson. It’s borderline unbelievable,” Steve chided. Dustin’s eyes widened and his face reddened, clearly mad that Steve wasn’t buying his story.
“Are you serious right now, Steve? You saw it! You saw the damn demogorgon! How could you possibly deny that—“
“I said borderline unbelievable, shit bird. Obviously I know some strange shit is going on, it’s just still fucking insane.”
You couldn’t agree more with him as you attempted to stand up, but your vision blurred and you stumbled. You would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t immediately shot up to catch and steady you.
“Woah, y/n, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Steve’s eyes were darting all across your face. He wished he could read your mind but you just stared up at him with those eyes and it all remained a mystery.
“I think she needs to get that checked out. She’s losing a lot of blood,” Lucas chimed in, his brow furrowed under his camo bandana. He pointed at your blood soaked sleeve, and everyone simultaneously realized that blood was now dripping down your hand, the fabric no longer able to hold anymore liquid.
“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Let me just walk it off. I’ll be okay,” you tried to sound confident, but your speech was slurred and there were dark spots invading your vision. Steve gently patted at the side of your face, attempting to keep you conscious.
“Y/n, just stay with us. We’re going to get you help. Just keep those pretty eyes open for me. Y/n, please!” He sounded desperate, and you fought to stay awake. The next thing you knew, he was carrying you, attempting to make it to an ambulance to get your wounds assessed by a real medical professional.
“Hey, we need you to take us to a hospital right now,” Steve spoke quickly as he sprinted to one of the EMTs on scene.
“What happened to her?”
“It’s a long story. Please sir,” Steve’s voice began to falter. The EMT gestured for Steve to hop in the back of the ambulance where he gingerly placed you on the gurney. Lucas and Dustin swiftly followed suit, going to hop into the ambulance, but the EMT stepped in front of the boys to stop them.
“Woah, where do you think you’re going?”
“Sir, if you could please let them come with us. We babysit them and I can’t leave them here by themselves,” Steve argued. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was the best he had to work with to convince the guy to take Sinclair and Henderson with them. Dustin looked at him with confusion, mouthing the word “we?” before Steve shot him a warning glance to fix his face before their story was invalidated.
You woke up in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. You were no longer in your blood soaked clothes, your frame fitted with a hospital gown instead. You looked over to your left arm which had since been stitched up and was now wrapped in gauze, the bleeding slowing to a stop.
“Steve?” You called out, hoping he was still with you.
“Y/n! You’re awake!” He exclaimed rushing over to the side of the bed. You’d been out for the past hour. They had sedated you once you arrived at the hospital, saying it would be easier to tend to your wounds that way.
“Today didn’t really go how I thought it would.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve chuckled.
“I mean, my worst fear earlier was that I was going to get fired. I can tell you that I have significantly worse fears than that now,” you hated crying in front of people, with Steve being the last person you wanted to be vulnerable in front of, but you couldn’t help it as your eyes welled up and one stubborn tear slid down your cheek. Steve was quick to wipe it away, his hand reaching down to hold yours.
“I know, but on the bright side, I think you might be the most qualified babysitter in Hawkins,” Steve tried desperately to make you smile. It worked as you let out a wet laugh through your sob.
“I mean, I guess so,” you chuckled, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.
“You guess so? I know so. I don’t know anybody who would fight a monster with that many fucking teeth for some kid.”
“Nancy would,” you reminded him, your voice getting small again. The light in his eyes suddenly dissipated and he let go of your hand.
“Yeah, no, you’re probably right. I guess we’d all make pretty damn good babysitters,” he averted eye contact, preferring to look at his hands. In the time he’d been spending with you, he kind of forgot about Nancy. He felt guilty.
“You should talk to her, you know?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure she’s probably ready to put whatever happened between the two of you behind her. I mean, you really stepped up when it mattered today,” you added. You weren’t sure why you were saying it because the thought of him going back to Nancy made your heart ache, but maybe you weren’t ready for the alternative. You weren’t ready for him to look at you the way he looked at her. Not that you thought he would, but you just felt the need to create some distance. A lot had happened and this wasn’t the way you wanted him to realize you were something special, something to hold onto.
“Yeah, I guess…I mean, I guess I’ll go talk to her. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He looked you in the eye. Instead of seeing annoyance or indifference, you saw something new for a change: sincerity.
“Promise.”
He gave you a small smile, pausing in the doorway as he took one last look at you. You did a small wave goodbye, reassuring him that you’d be okay. With that, he took a breath and turned the corner, making his way back to the hospital waiting room where him and Nancy would patch things up. There was something about you though; something he couldn’t quite get out of his head.
He also had a sinking feeling in his chest that this wasn’t the end of whatever was going on in Hawkins. He had a feeling that the danger would linger, lurking in the shadows. He pushed the feeling aside and smiled weakly at Nancy, moving to sit in the empty chair next to her.
***
a/n: I hope y’all liked it; in theory there’s more to come (like I said earlier it’s gonna be a slow burn so yeah lol). If you feel so inspired to reboot this post that would also be pretty dope and I’d be eternally grateful <3
#stranger things#joe keery#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#fanfic#strangers to lovers#friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#steve harrington friends to lovers#steve harrington stranger things#babysitter!steve harrington#steve the hair harrington#steve harrington the babysitter#Steve harrington x reader fanfic#Steve harrington x reader blurb#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader
386 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ SO SO SORRY for the late chapter! I was going through a lot these past weeks, and I was drained as hell, but I think I’m a little fine now.
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏: 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
Summary ೃ⁀➷ You discover the gruesome extent of your powers. You open up to Miles once more— and Montrell makes a devious introduction. Inside your household, another catastrophe unfolds.
⚠️WARNING⚠️ This chapter consists of harassment and gruesome display [The reader is Venom], if you want to skip past it, scroll until you see a purple line. Reader discretion is advised.
FIC MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter || Next chapter
“.. Never call me again.”
Beep.
… No, the proposal wasn't approved.
Your father called it a weird choice of an investment, and after hearing that you seriously wanted to buy the store, he hung up on you without the need of another explanation. So you stood by the gasoline stand, outside of the local bodega, with a blank phone in between your fingers, not a single connection to be found.
"Shit, I am so fucked." You sighed, pulling a palm across your face. "I am never going to financially recover from this, ever."
"You're a conglomerate heiress, you’ve got all the money in the world.”
"Strictly in name," You corrected of the symbiote. "As much as I am inheriting a lot of the money, I am not going to control over anything since that is Montrell's right, and my grandfather and father's will."
With that, you press your head against the flat of the glass door, a long and tiresome sigh dragging out your throat. ".. If only I were a boy."
"You're living in modern society, your father can't possibly be that old fashioned."
"Well, he isn't." You mumbled. "The only difference is that Wilson Fisk had a son, not a daughter. If I were a boy, or rather, if Wilson Fisk had a daughter— it would've been Antonne's problem, both mine."
"Then.. Do you think running away can fix all this?" Emerging from the bones of your back, a black matter materialized beside you with its white, dead gaze and spiky grin gleaming from the light of the street lamps. Though it unsettled you, nothing topped the hard glares that came from your parents. "As cunning as you are, when the people get angry, they won't leave you alone."
That was a well-made point— you weren’t free from the sins of your family. You indulged yourself in the wealth they stole from poor, and you chose to blind yourself from the truth. It doesn’t matter how much you try to make up for all the lives lost and all the money stolen now, it’s all too late.
But there was something about trying.
"They can find me in Amsterdam, I guess." You looked at the glass windows, pulling out your lipgloss from the pockets of your jeans and swiping it across the plump of your brim. "Once I leave this place, I'm never coming back."
"Then what about Miles?“
As you placed the gloss down, the alien's question made you think.
What about Miles?
Fooling him, lying to him, with the highest risk knowing he'd one day learn all about your secrets, you still managed to question: What about Miles?
How far would you go for your own survival?
You exchanged glances with the sight of New York. Without Miles, and being there all alone, made you notice the ultraviolet themes puckering out from the crevices of the darkness, a sort of dystopian hue of green-blue and pink-purple lying beneath the wicked façades of tall buildings and withering carcasses of what could’ve possibly housed hundreds of people.
There is no more ‘New York, New York’. It didn’t make you think of tall, slim rockettes with their shiny legs and glittery uniforms of gold and red, nor did it make you think of bussing bentleys with rich bachelors inside them, waving the fifty-star flag of blue, red, and white outside of their windows.
New York was desolate.
But Miles only made it warmer. Tolerable, you think. Through Miles, you managed to slip on a pair of rose-tinted glasses in the midst of this decaying city, and through him, you earned a sense of hope— or patriotism for a country you’d only ever really seen the worst of. You wanted to think you were capable of being compassionate for other people’s lives aside from your own, but there was only so much you could do, so much you could consider.
New York has warm places, was your conclusion.
And without Miles, New York would be a black hole.
And in a sparing state of delusion, you pondered about running away with Miles to Amsterdam. Married and settled in a home by the waterfront, where the both of you could walk to work everyday while taking in the sights of the tulips every spring. You wanted, needed to feel his hands entangle with yours every morning. For him to embrace you from behind every after frustrated sigh during every artistic block.
You were tired of being little Miss Americana. Perhaps you’d find a more loving life away from New York and in the heart of Europe.
ＳＬＡＭ.
“Hey, pretty.” A dirtied, damp palm slams against the glass before you. “What’s a girl like you doin’ out here all alone?”
The symbiote crawls right back into your skin as you processed the sudden rude disruption. Before you stood a couple of men with their yellowing teeth, grinning and laughing at your reaction. Instinctively, you tossed your head to the side out of fear of getting caught. Still, they knocked in intervals of three, knuckles pressed against the fogging wall of glass.
“You come here often? Got a man?” The man asks. “Don’t be so shy, baby. We don’t bite.”
ｏｈ、 ｂｕｔ Ｉ ｄｏ.
“Leave me alone.” You grumbled in between seething grit, refusing to look at any place other than the ground. You couldn’t count how many men there were, but they were a group of rusty late-twenty aged drunks. Something pulsed inside you, aside from a heart, it twisted like this beast-like gluttony that made your mind simmer.
Ｈ Ｕ Ｎ Ｇ Ｒ Ｙ.
“Wow, ain’t you sassy?” They cackled, reeking like cigars and axe cologne. You turn to leave, but they easily block your way with their brick-like bodies. “Hey, hey, where’s you going? Can’t just leave me like this, baby, smile for us a lil’ bit more.” He cooed as though he were talking to a toddler. That only irked you even more, hearing the men’s devious giggles as you struggled to stride past him.
“I’ve got a boyfriend.” Was your attempt of a defense, the man only grinned. “Why don’t you call him then?”
“I will.” You choke, knowing you wouldn’t. “If you continue keeping this up.”
He lifts his hands up like a captured criminal, still amused— annoyingly. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone mami.”
Mami. It only sounds nice when Miles says it.
You swiveled your way to leave, prancing past their prying eyes.
ｓｌａｐ.
You jolted at the hit of your posterior, their cackles following right after like a mockery of your shame. Without even processing the amount of your anger and embarrassment, your hand finds itself latching onto the man’s neck without another word uttered.
The coarse flesh of his skin pricked at your pretty fingers, a growing stubble you hadn’t noticed as you were too busy ignoring him earlier. What stared right back was terror in his quivering, dark, and wrinkled gaze. It’s as though he could see his life flashing before his eyes.
Your arm was enveloped, rather, your whole body was enveloped by the wrath of what boiled inside you— dark and slimy, it growled with white eyes and spiky teeth.
You could hardly remember the flash and swiftness of how everything went off. You heard muffled screaming, and thundering footsteps— growing fainter with each passing second. The man struggled like a bird within your grasps, begging you to let him go. The thing was, he wasn’t all too knowledgable of what ‘no’ meant, and at that moment, you didn’t feel like teaching him what it meant.
You could hear it so faintly, his begs and curses tossed forcibly at you like a hurricane before silencing itself after a crack and a rip.
Suddenly, you weren’t so hungry anymore.
And along with the cracks of shattered glass, your little apparition of European folly broke too.
“.. I wonder what’s taking her so long.”
Peering from the aisles, the group searches for you in all throughout their long walk. Mostly, it had been Miles’ worries thwarting every question. Monique hummed, similarly turning her head. “Ain’t no way she’s lost. She ain’t ever been here before?”
“Ion think she’s been here before seeing as how she went straight to the exit. You sure your date didn’t just ditch you, Miles?”
Miles couldn’t reply, he was too busy dialing the hell out of your number.
“I can go check on the second floor bathroom, if ya want.” Monique suggested, earning an earnest and somewhat thankful stare from Miles. “Yeah, can you go check? M’getting worried, dios mio.” His occupied hand shifts downward, the other arm hugging both of your costumes’ bags close. He figured to pay for the both of your costumes, being the gentleman that he is.
Monique excuses herself from the group, making it her personal journey to search for little lost you.
Amadi and Voshon were the only ones next to him by the queue.
“.. You know when you first told me ‘bout how pretty she was, I didn’t expect her to be.. Like that.” Amadi chuckled, arms crossed before her chest. “To think she can afford to maintain looking like that.”
Miles raised a brow.
“You don’t see girls like that everyday.”
“Yeah, you don’t.” Miles managed to pluck out a smile. “I’m so lucky to have her, man. I can’t wait for our date tomorrow.”
Amadi nodded, seemingly getting gist of his excitement, until.. “Miles, I’m going to be honest with you.” She maneuvers the plastic bag into her other arm just to lean a little bit closer. “Your girl’s lookin’ like she hasn’t touched a spec of dirt her whole life— with a silver spoon in her mouth since the day she was born. And I’m worried for you, considering your whole thing with your Unc Aaron.”
Amadi, who’s completely like a sister to Miles, knew about him being the Prowler. They’ve been there for one another since they were kids, since her first coming out, since his dad’s death, and through thick and thin. Amadi, when she’d first heard about you, didn’t mind much initially. It was great for Miles to have a first love— he drowned himself too much in expectations he had for himself, when he could only do so little for the world. But the more he talked about it, the more her suspicions arose.
“Why’d she suddenly change her mind?” Was her first question. “Kissing you and then suddenly running off and then coming back to say yes.. Does your girl not know a thing ‘bout social cues or what?”
“She’s going through a lot.” He snaps back immediately. “Her family’s putting a lot of pressure on her. Ionno much ‘bout what’s going on in her home, but I ain’t judging her for being confused ‘bout her own pace. But I respect her decisions, and I ain’t going to say anything ‘til she tells me herself.”
Amadi took a step back, acknowledging that it was her mistake for speaking beyond her grasps.
“I’m just worried, Miles. Ion have a problem with her in particular— she seems sweet, kind even, but Ion want you getting hurt. No todo lo que brilla es oro.”
He cringes a bit after hearing the same words his mother would always tell him.
“No quiero hablar más de esto.”
Amadi shrugged. “Bueno, then let’s talk ‘bout something else.” She rocked forward along the line. “Who’s Tiya Rio going to be voting for?”
“She’s a hard Christine Brown.” Miles quickly replies, relieved at the sudden change of topic. “Better off than that nepo-shit, Barlowe.”
Christine Brown was a candidate for the upcoming election— an economist, hailing from the Bronx, with a mind bright enough to light up a room. Despite her popularity amongst the youth, however, the older people were less than willing to place their bets on her.
“Good for you. Papa’s goin’ full Barlowe.”
Miles snaps his head in distaste. “Que? Por que?”
“Said he couldn’t trust the any other candidates. Brown’s proposals are too good to be true, so he gotta go with whoever everyone else is going for.”
“Only thing special ‘bout Barlowe was his father’s legacy, but even then, a lot of people died all throughout his father’s bullshit doings— and don’t ever forget, Barlowe helped the Chávez’s cover up the media when the collapse happened.”
“Well, for the lot of us, that’s still a theory.” She mumbled. “Not everyone has access to sensitive information like you, Miles. A lot of us have lost hope, because either way, no matter who we vote for, we’re all going to be stuck working for the rest of our miserable lives. Papa said that maybe, Barlowe might actually do something like his father.”
With a furrowed brow, Miles snaps back. “Barlowe is riding off of his father’s achievements— man’s got nothing to his name other than his dad’s legacy.”
“Well we don’t know yet. He might be a good president.”
“Amadi, we can’t say ‘might’ when we’re voting for a great president. We need someone who will become a great president. Politics ain’t trial and error. Barlowe’s as good as a puppet for the elite.”
Realizing his heightened tone, Miles looked around to check if anyone was listening into their little talk. Amadi attempts to search for a rebuttal, but she fails miserably, leaving her only clutching onto the plastic of her costume with a gap in between her lips.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Without another second wasted, Miles picks up the phone, hoping to hear your voice. Instead, what rang was this haggard breath and a worried shrill.
“Miles, we’re at the second floor bathroom— [Y/n]’s sick, she’s been vomiting a lot. Can you get her some— some, I don’t know, water?”
And Miles bolted off.
Oh, God, you ate someone.
ＷＥＬＬ, ＴＥＣＨＮＩＣＡＬＬＹ Ｉ ＤＩＤ.
Shut up.
“Hurk!—“ And there goes the last bit of dinner, straight into a bowl. Beside you, Monique gently tugs your hair farther away from your mess. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” You incoherently babbled. “I just ate something really, really bad. I’m usually not like this, really, just— hurk!”
You are being dramatic. I was the one who ate the damn thing, not you.
Same fucking difference when you’re literally living inside of me!
“Don’t worry, babe, I called Miles. He’s going to arrive soon.” Monique cooed like a teacher informing her student that her parents were on the way.
That just makes everything so much worse!
“Thank you.”
You suddenly decided, you were feeling better. You picked your head out of the bowl, flushed everything away, and rinsed your tongue by the sink, only to realize that water tasted bad, and whatever was left inside your stomach threatened to resurge again, so instead, you stood there and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was all over the place, a bit of your mascara was running down, and your lipgloss was gone.
But hey, your highlighter didn’t budge. That’s one great brand.
I actually agree with you on that one.
From afar, you hear Miles calling out your name. Hurried and rushed. Monique heads right out.
“Hey, is she aight?” He immediately asked of her.
“Well, she’s better now. Stopped vomiting and all that.”
There was a small silence. You pondered whether to fill it in, but you were lost with hoping to hear Miles’ answer. Similarly, you were in a battle with your own wit; In a battle with the damn being inside of you. It was enough to drive you into madness— everything and everyone. You were used to going along with the pace of everyone else’s plans, but right now was like ricocheting you to the moon without as much as a warning, a suit, or a mathematical equation.
You heard a gentle swish of a bottle.
And when your gaze travels sideward, Monique appears before you with a bottle of water between her pink acrylics. Sealed and cold. Misty and likely just bought.
With a hushed thanks, you received the drink and swished it inside of your inner cheeks— the bitter aftertaste of whatever exited your body leaving after each spit. You washed your hands and washed your makeup off too— a few clumps of mascara remaining beneath your bags.
Miles calls out your name.
You don’t answer in a fit of embarrassment.
“I’m gonna buy our costumes now, I’ll pay for it, aight?”
Oh, but that was even more embarrassing.
You rushed out to greet him, messy mascara and all. “I can pay for my costume, darling, thanks for holding it for me.” And you snag it out of his hands, kiss his cheek, and beeline right out.
Miles blinked, and he looked at Amadi who shrugged. He didn’t know whether to think about the kiss or the way you stomped right out without warning.
Oh, she really doesn’t know what social cues are, huh? They think.
But that wasn’t the case, truly. You of all people would know you’ve been infinitely and unbearably awkward, but you had a deal to make. You didn’t want their pockets to hurt, so you forged a plan. Measly, small, nothing too grand of a plan. Something along the lines of using a black card and all of those things— attempting to falsify a coupon while insisting to charge your account rather than their money. This wasn’t a restaurant, so you couldn’t demand for a paycheck and pay the bill for everyone in advance, so when Miles and the others got back, you got this.
“Nathan?” You faked-recognized the cashier. A similarly blond, tall and ragged boy with calm leisure on his shoulders.
“[Y/n]? What’s good mama, long time no see!”
And within three minutes, you managed to stage a whole script with Nathan, the part-timer.
A little bribe was nice enough to let him in the job.
“You two know each other?” Miles asks, evidently piqued and disturbed at the idea of him calling you mama. “Yeah, he’s one of my older brother’s friends. Nathan, long time no see, indeed.” You ushered the costumes forward, plucking out the one from Amadi’s grasps and placing it by the counter.
Nathan plants a smirk in his lips, a hand on his hip. “How’s he, by the way? Haven’t caught up with him for months.” He asks, obviously not knowing who your brother was.
“He’s doing great, actually. All of us have been, and you?”
“Great,” The blond smiled. “Took up this part-time job to get ahead of my student loans. Thanks to your nice tip months ago, I managed to re-arrange a few parts of my fucked up life.” Well, that tip was non-existent. He was likely talking about the three-hundred dollar bribe you offered him just minutes ago. “Really, you’re.. The sweetest.”
Miles didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.
“Well, Miles and I were just buying our halloween costumes for tomorrow. We’re going to be celebrating halloween together, you see.” Your hand creeped up against his arm, and Miles eases. “We have a date tomorrow.”
Nathan’s smile twitched. “Oh, really? Damn, good for you.”
Miles’ chest huffed up in pride. Fuck yeah, we’re dating, what’chu gon do ‘bout it?
“Your brother know all ‘bout it?”
“Oh, not yet. It’s our first date.”
Nathan starts scanning your stuff, keeping up the small talk while Miles listened in with a half-bored expression on his face. It was a façade, evidently. He wanted to know everything about this Nathan dude, and why he was smiling so weirdly with his crooked teeth.
“You know, I can get this for you.” Nathan suggested. “I owe you a lot. I’ll pay for your costumes.”
Good work for following the script.
“Really?” You airily asked. The blond shrugged. “Yeah. I can pay for your friends too, my treat.”
“Nah, keep yo money to yo self, big man.” Miles narrowed his gaze, slamming his wallet atop the counter. “I can pay for our costumes.”
“Miles!” You whispered at him.
“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout it, man. Your girlfriend’s done a lot to help my family. Hell, I met Alicia through her too.” Nathan improvised. At the mention of another girl, Miles gradually lightens up. “So, really. This is hardly even enough. Let me just thank her this one time.”
You turn to Amadi, gesturing her a thumbs up and a wink.
.. Were you even aware of how much of a mess you looked right now?
Either way, you were somehow.. Still presentable in a way that it was enviable.
After wrapping up the prices, paying for everything, and sneaking your black card away from the man, all of you managed to depart and bid your farewells to your new friends. If you could even call them that yet. The tension was unnerving, and you could almost sense that they likely found you weird.
And you were weird. You have been acting weird, even you could admit that.
There was a fucking alien inside of you who fed on humans. It wasn’t the potential of cannibalism that irked you the most, it was the fact that you devoured a vile man who likely ate cigarettes for morning and tequila for dinner— if he could even afford it. You’ve seen a million gruesome scenes, before, so the latter of ripping someone’s head off from their body was hardly the worst of your memories.
In fact, there may have been more blood on your hands than anyone else would think.
But it did shake you. It left you trembling and silent. You were already thinking about demolishing the camera and having Liv take care of all the evidence.
Liv, yes, Olivia Octavius. You wanted to trust her for a short while, given her eccentric desire to run tests on you. She can find the answers to get rid of this disgusting piece of murky tar inside of you—
ＹＯＵ’ＲＥ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＧＯＩＮＧ ＴＯ
ＧＥＴ ＲＩＤ ＯＦ ＭＥ.
You could almost snicker.
Fuck you.
“Hey, you feeling better?” Upon hearing Miles’ voice, you’re plucked away from whatever sour memories ingrained your mind. With a hopeful smile, you nod. “Yeah,” The reply came out a little raspy. “I’m doing a little better. I’m a bit dizzy, but I’m better now.”
He pauses in the midst of the street, facing you entirely. You pause along with him, evidently confused.
Gently, Miles lifted a finger and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “How can you look so messy and still be so pretty, huh?”
Unlike the encounter you had earlier, this made you feel utterly warm and safe. It’s like you could melt into the base of his palm and mark it as your home. His finger grazes beneath your lashes, likely wiping out all of what’s left of your mascara.
“Only you can pull off something like this.” Miles decided. “You can start trends with that face of yours.”
“And here I thought you’d start teasing me.” You laughed.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got the plague doctor costume just in case you start spreading your bubonic germs all o’er again, I can just bloodlet the hell outta you.”
You smacked his arm. “My blood’s precious as hell, thank you.”
“Said no hospital, ever.”
And there goes that heavy laugh of his, ringing in your mind. You adored it. The way he’d tilt his head and shift his eyes into crescents. You like how he crinkled his nose and stepped away from you as if to sink in your comedic and obviously pissed off side-eye.
You could stay there forever.
“I’m fucking leaving you here.” You attempted to stomp off. Miles hurriedly catches up with you in bated breath, interlacing his fingers with yours.
“Nah, you ain’t going nowhere, my girl, you’s stuck w’me til’ we both drop dead when we’re eighty.”
You giggled at his statement.
“What? You don’t plan on doing that w’me?” He pouted.
“No, no. It’s not that, just..” You looked away. “Ionno if I’ll even live that long.”
Miles took the hood of your jacket and placed it over your head. “Well if you keep yourself out in the cold too much, ya prolly won’t.”
It’s not that, Miles. You think. I can’t live a day without feeling like I’m falling apart.
“You know, I don’t get why I’m so weak ‘round ya.” You kicked at the pebbles you came across the pavement. “I’m a fighter, y’know. Got it from my daddy, actually. I’m pretty strong, but when I’m around you I sneeze a lot… Prolly has sum to do with how anxious you make me feel.”
You paused. He paused.
The both of you stared at each other. Seeing that stupid smug smirk creeping up his lips made you want to bolt away in shame.
“So I do make you nervous.”
“You make me physically ill.”
“Cause I make you nervous.”
“Shut up.”
Miles looked like the happiest boy on earth. You wanted to deep-fry yourself in oil.
“Speaking of which, you never told me much ‘bout your brothers.” He suddenly mentioned. “You told me ‘bout you being the only girl, and I’m an only child but that’s nothing alike. What’s it like?”
“Well— I’ve got three brothers, actually.” You thought about calling them by their other names. Miles gulped. “The one who drove me here was Mon. He’s.. Like a big, fluffy, teddy bear. I think, out of all of us, he’s the most approachable one. He’s my dad’s favorite. He’s like the golden child of our family. He never has to study just to get good grades, and he’s always so smiley and smart.. But at the same time, he can be such a pain in the ass.”
Hearing you talk about him made Miles sense a sort of jealousy lingering behind your teeth and atop your tongue.
“How ‘bout your other older brother?”
Without missing a beat. “He can go fuck himself.”
Alright. So you had a sibling you were jealous of, and a sibling you couldn’t stand.
“The third one?”
And you softened entirely.
“Oh, his name’s Malachi.” You said his name with such sweetness and warmth, it melted even Miles. “He’s my little brother. Six years younger than me. I know kids his age are usually brats, but I love him to bits. He was my mom’s favorite. She used to read him bed time stories and bake him snacks.. Now, I’m the one who does all that for him.”
Was. Used. Now.
Miles wondered why you never spoke about your mother. The topic seemed.. Fraught, initially, but now that you’ve mentioned her, it sparked his interest.
And, ever so cautiously, he piqued.
“I thought you were your mom’s favorite.”
Miles eyes the way you subtly flinch, your smile faltering so slightly. As the both of you pause before a stoplight, you fish your vape out from the corners of your pockets.
“What made you think that?”
He shrugged. “I thought moms usually favor their daughters ‘cause they see themselves in ‘em.”
You parted your lips and spoke before taking a hit. “If my mom ever saw herself in me, I’d be traumatized.” As you blew, the smoke lingered in the air a little longer than it usually did. Must be the cold. “.. To which, I already am, because everyone talks about how much I look like her.”
Before you could take another hit, Miles softly latches his fingers on your wrist, bringing the gadget away from your lips.
“If you don’t mind me askin’, what was your relationship with her like?”
He guided you down the crossing lane with his hand still holding down your vape. You feel a little embarrassed, and you take the opportunity to place it back inside your pockets.
“.. Ionno if there’s even a relationship I can describe to you.“ You sighed. “.. Ionno what goes beyond a mother-daughter relationship when our relationship mostly revolved around my mama hating me for being her daughter. If that’s what being a mother is, then Ion want none of it.” You sense Miles grimace. “If that’s a dealbreaker for you, then I’m so sorry—“
“No, no, it isn’t.” He mumbled. “I once told myself that I’ll only go with whatever decision my future partner wants. If you want a kid, we’ll have a kid. If you don’t want a kid, then I can live with that too.”
“.. Well, why can’t you decide whether you want kids or not?”
“Because Ion want to force my future wife to have kids she don’t want.” Miles’ grip on your hand loosened. “A few things people do that I really hate is that they usually get kids because of baby fever, or they want to fix a marriage, or they just have it because they want to but not because they can afford to. Ion want my future kids to live on while I can’t or my future wife can’t handle ourselves financially and emotionally. That’s gonna fuck up the kid, and they’ll grow up to fuck up their kids, and so on, and so forth.”
“You know a lot about these kinds of topics, huh?”
“It’s ‘cause my mama taught me all ‘bought it.” He smiled. “My mama’s been through a lot, and when she and my dad had me, she wanted to make sure she won’t pass the pain she got from my abuela to me.”
You couldn’t help but feel envious.
What is it about me that my mother can’t stand to love?
My whole life, I’ve been homesick for arms that don’t even want to hold me.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
You wanted to curse a hundred curses, but instead you took out your phone and answered. “What is it?” You answered, inching away from Miles.
“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up.” Montrell seethed behind the phone. “It’s an emergency, we need you back immediately.”
“Me?” You couldn’t help but dumbly point at yourself. “What did I do? It’s my free time today, plus I’m not the one managing the— the house anymore.”
You hear your brother pause. You took a moment to glance up at Miles who was waiting patiently for you to finish the call.
“Well, to further inspire you, you’re right, Antonne is a fuck up.”
“Okay, and? Is that supposed to surprise me?” You sarcastically replied.
“No, [Y/n], he fucked up really badly, which is why we need an emergency meeting and I need you back immediately because everybody is looking for you.”
You took the moment to pull away from your phone and block the speaker. “Miles, what street is this?”
He answers something along the lines of being a couple blocks down. You take the answer back to Montrell who tells you to stay where you are. Well, being the smarter person, you ended the call and told Miles to go.
“Why?”
“My brother’s coming to pick me up.”
“Oh?” He straightened his back. “Oh, shit— he’s coming? Why?”
“There’s an emergency.” Not that it was alarming. Emergency, you say, but Miles could clearly see that you hardly gave any flying fucks. “I need to get back immediately before the house blows up.”
“.. There’s a bomb in your house?”
“Yeah, I call him dad.” You turn and peck his cheek one last time. “Before he finds out I’m missing, I’ve got to get back now or you won’t see me ever again. Stay safe on your way home, aight? Don’t get hit by a car, and don’t die.”
The boy stumbles. “But what if he gets lost? Do you know your way around Brooklyn?”
“I’ve got photographic memory.” You joked. “I’m kidding. Mon can do it, he’s smart, and probably has a GPS, so go! Go! Go!” You hurriedly ushered him away. Miles scratches the back of his neck, hesitant to leave you alone out of fear you’d get hurt. Unfortunately for the both of you, a slick, gray car pulls up by the curb with an abrupt halt. You freeze, watching its thick, black window roll down in a glacial, intimidating pace.
“… Mon.”
Montrell stared, unimpressed.
“.. Call him back.”
“… Call who back?” Was your stupid attempt to get out.
“You know who I’m talking about.”
“… You told me there’s an emergency.” You headed over to open the door, only to find that it’s locked. You faced Montrell, only to find that the both of you were mutually irked.
“There is, but it can wait. Call him back.”
“Mon, I will crawl through this fucking window.”
“Now.”
“Mon!”
“Don’t make me count to three.” He warned you like a mother. You grimaced at the way he used that insufferable tone. “I’m not a fucking toddler.”
“ONE.”
“Mon.”
“TWO.”
“MILES!”
From the corner of your eye, you see Miles toss his head over with a widened gaze. “Yeah?”
With your head still facing Mon, you told him to come over. Miles hesitantly made his way back slowly but surely. It didn’t help that his legs were so long that every step imitated a stride. Finally, after swallowing the lump in his throat, Miles greets your brother.
“Evening, Sir.”
By the driver’s seat sat a man. His gaze sat behind a pair of glasses, scrutinizing Miles’ entirety in a second or less. He was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, further accentuated by the fineness of his white, collared shirt and black vest. His features were sharp, but his eyes welcoming— quite softer than yours, actually. He looked clean, polished, and infinitely sophisticated yet it didn’t harm his charm. In fact, it made him look so gentlemanly that it made Miles insecure.
It’s like your whole family was genetically blessed.
“Nice to meet you, you must be Miles, yeah?”
“Yes.” Miles answered like he wasn’t aware of his own name.
“I’m Mon, [Y/n]’s older brother.”
“Nice to meet you too, uh— Sir.. Mon?”
Montrell looked at this boy, and he looked at his braids, his freckled nose, and his unrefined stature. He was slouched, and one of his hands was seemingly glued inside the pocket of his old, winter jacket. It didn’t look anything special. In fact, it looked unluckily ragged. The boy looked skinny too, seen clearly in the slight hollowness of his cheeks and dark bags beneath his eyes. Still, he was accommodating, like a waiter donning on his best smile. There was something attractive about him— maybe it was the way he appeared so grimly enticing.
Reminded him of you.
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen, Sir. I’ll be turning sixteen this December.”
“Ah, is that so?”
You and Miles felt equally uneasy at the fact that Montrell didn’t bother to tell Miles to stop calling him Sir.
“How long have you known my sister?” He asks, a warning tone seeping past his smile. “Recently, she’s spoken about how much she likes you, so I’m curious how long you’ve known each other for.”
“Oh, we—“
“We met three months ago.” You cut him off, clutching Miles’ hand as though to signal him not to speak any further. “Can we go? I’m sure I still have plenty to attend to.”
Montrell ignores you. “Do you live nearby here?”
Miles looks at you, but you weren’t looking at him. “Yes Sir, I live around two blocks away from here.”
“That’s nice, you’ve got a part-time job?”
“Used to work as a cashier for a record shop. It was closed down months ago since the owner moved out of the city. Been working to get another since then but, it’s hard tryna find a job close to my school.”
Montrell raised his brows. “A hard worker! Just like my sister. Has she told you anything about her work?”
Silence.
Your nails scraped against the window.
“Well, from what I know, it’s a family business, right?” Miles looked at you for approval. For the first time in three minutes, you finally looked at him and nodded. “Catering business in an inn.”
Montrell held back a laugh. “Right. That’s exactly it. Say, Miles, do you have any plans next week?”
He shook his head. “Ion think so, Sir.”
“Well, you see— our family’s hosting an event. [Y/n] will be there, and she’ll be dancing tango. I think it’d be nice for you to go.”
“That’s not happening.” You flatly decided. “Our relatives will talk if I bring Miles to that party.”
“Not unless he’s my guest.”
“Mon, Miles.” You looked at them alternately. “He’s not going— you’re not going to that party, Miles, I forbid it.”
“But—“
“No one will talk about him if he’s with me.” Montrell sighed. “It’s Aunt Claire’s event anyway. No one will be focusing much on you or him. To be fair, they’ll all mostly focus on me.”
You gulped.
“Come on. Once you introduce him to dad, surely you’ll be able to meet him more freely rather than whatever the hell you’re doing right now.”
Miles lightened up upon hearing this, looking over to you with hope.
You wanted this conversation done with, now.
“Fine.” You struggled to speak. “He’ll go.”
Montrell finally unlocks the car. You lazily drag the door open and slam the door shut. With the window still down, you placed a hand over and intertwined it with Miles’. “I’ll text you tomorrow, alright? Just tell me what time.”
Montrell piqued. “You two meeting up tomorrow?.. How unfortunate.”
You exasperated. “… What do you mean by that?”
“Well..” Montrell started the car. “It’s a pretty huge emergency, and it might take you days to fix.”
“That’s fine.” Miles straightened his lips. “We can move our plans next week. I can always make time for her.”
“No, I won’t allow it. I’ll go on with my plans, I don’t care how big this emergency is—“
“Dad’s wrecking the place.”
And that shut you up.
You looked at Miles apologetically. “.. I’ll text you, alright? Stay safe.”
“Okay, you guys too.” Miles softened. “It was nice meeting you, Sir.”
“Nice meeting you too, Miles. I’ll see you next week.”
“It’s as though none of my children are competent anymore.”
Along with the click of your heel, your father swishes a bottle of brandy above his head, pouring it over his glass. You try to keep your head high, while noting the fact that the meeting was largely based off privacy. Antonne sat by the corner, his curls frayed away along with his collar. His head hung low, hand cradling his bruised cheek.
“What took you so long?” Your father asked, hardly even sparing a glance for you and Montrell.
“I was out.”
“Where off?”
“At a café, to make use of my idle time.” You cleanly lied. You watched his grey brow wiggle, eyeing the competence of your stature. You could’ve been everything he ever needed, until you weren’t. Your father stood tall— taller than the rest of you. You try to ignore the shattered glass beneath your feet. You wore heels for a reason, after all.
He trudges towards you and Montrell, taking note of every flicker of your wrist and fluttering of your lashes.
“Do you know the reason why I’m training all of you to handle the family business?”
It was a simple question, capable of being answered with a simply answer.
Why would one family keep most of its secrets together?
“Answer me, girl.” Your father pried.
You gulped. “Because whatever power the family has should remain in the family.”
It was an average answer— a textbook one in fact. Why were royal families the way they were? Why did they marry each other? Why did they remain so closely intact?
For power.
Or so you think, but it wasn’t the answer your father was searching for. It was more.
Your father places a hand against your cheek, caressing it so softly. “... For someone who has her mother’s stupid face, you’re quite smart. My young girl, I know the way you’ve been, because you’re just like your mother but bolder. I know that naïve and emotional front you put up, but mind you, [Y/n], I’ve done whatever façade you’ve put up and better.” He squeezed your cheeks so tightly, you could feel your teeth imprint on your bleeding flesh.
“I asked you for one thing, and it’s been three months. Why haven’t you brought it back yet?”
He spoke so condescendingly calm that it horrified you.
With a tiny whimper, you tried to lower your head to soften the grip of your father, to no avail.
“.. All three of you.” He seethed, calling out for Montrell and Antonne. “Do all of you want to end up like your mother?” He turns to you. “Do you want to end up like your mother, [Y/n]?”
“N-No.” You choked.
Your father shoved you right back, making you land down on the floor.
“… Then who did it? Who released the information about the warehouse to the black market?”
You winced at the glass shards that pricked your hands.
Ah, why do families keep their secrets together?
So that if one falls, all will fall along with him.
“Someone leaked the locations of the warehouses, and a few details about some of our deals with other families— if this gets out, we will lose credibility, and all the other families will drop us immediately like hot potatoes! All of us will get arrested, and everything we’ve worked hard for will diminish in a second. Now, WHICH ONE OF YOU STUPID BRATS DID IT!?”
His voice rang inside your ears. Helplessly, you try to help yourself off the floor when your father’s shadow darkens before you. With a step of his shoe, he stomps your hand back down on the shards. You resist the urge to yelp, tears pricking your eyes as you looked up.
“[Y/n]?”
“I’d have no reason to incriminate myself with something so stupid!” You cried out. “If I were to be in charge of the hotel and sell out information, I’d end up taking the most damage. Why would I do something so obvious?” Hesitantly, you dragged your bleeding hand away from the glass, only to find tiny bits of the symbiote plucking the shards away from your wounds.
It was one of your brothers. Montrell, maybe? Antonne, definitely.. Maybe even Malachi.
None of them uttered a single word.
Of course they couldn’t.
“Antonne?” Your father called out. Your brother didn’t speak, he simply stared on blankly. Montrell couldn’t bring it in himself to move or help. All of your father’s children were dead silent like mice.
ＣＲＡＳＨ.
Brandy and glass exploded onto the floor like fireworks.
“ＡＮＳＷＥＲ ＭＥ!”
“I don’t think it’s any of us.” Montrell finally answered. “There’s likely an outsider receiving information from an insider— it’s no wonder why we can’t track down the poster.” He looked at you, to be particular, he eyed you in a way that was so subtle but it sent a message you seamlessly caught.
And then it made sense.
Montrell was accusing Miles.

But you never told Miles anything. Hell, you’ve been hiding your identity for most of the time you’ve known him. If Miles knew, he wouldn’t have stood by you, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall for you— he would’ve crushed you into pieces.
But if he knew.
Ding.
Eddie Brock || Just now
hey
the warehouse is gone.
it’s all burned to the ground.
“Unc.” Miles jerked up from his seat, turning to his Uncle. “Eddie just texted. He told me the warehouses were burnt down.”
Eddie Brock, a journalist tipped by Miles and Aaron after the discovery of the Warehouse, was the only journalist who metaphorically had the balls to bring a camera and shamelessly enter the elite’s premises for the sake of unveiling the truth.
Most called him a hysterical theorist.
But he wasn’t a dead one.
“That’s fucking impossible.” Aaron couldn’t help but curse, uncontrollably snatching the phone off of Miles’ grasps. “They can’t just burn down one of their top investments— even if it was meant to cover up evidence, they couldn’t have had the time to burn everything so quickly.”
“Did we accidentally set it on fire because of the explosives?”
“A fire can’t go that large without gasoline.” Aaron tossed the phone back to him. “… It was likely an inside job.. And we were sent there to take the blame for the fire.”
Ding.
“Everyone else, except [Y/n], leave the room.”
Montrell flinched, eyes landing on you. Antonne finds the strength to pull himself together, limping his way to the front door. Montrell kneels down to lend you a helping hand, cautious of the broken glass, only for you to reject his notion and unsteadily stand up yourself. There, he marveled, how clean and uncut your legs were.
Huh.
Antonne cradled his cheek, his curls all over his nose. He tossed his head, spitting out a blotch of blood on the floor before wiping his busted lip with his arm. The both of you meet gazes, both similarly full of disdain and exhaustion.
The both of them left shortly after.
You could feel all of New York witnessing your misery like an audience— watching with prying and expectant eyes from behind your father’s large, glass window. Your old man had some stank in his eye. You wondered if that was the same look he had in his eye when your mother went.
“When will you get me that damn USB, [Y/n]?”
New York was glowing, but you wanted it to smolder.
“Give me two final weeks.” Your brow creased. “I’ll present you the USB on a fucking golden platter.”
Ding.
“Then what would they gain from burning down the building?” Miles fiddled with his phone, watching his Uncle pace around the room.
“If we think about the consequences, it’ll bring the Chávez’s the most harm. It’s a shared property funded by a lot of other people in the elite— that would mean a higher up sent us that information on purpose.. But who,”
+17479256640 || Yesterday
Do you recognize the girl beside him?
You closed the door behind you, eyes glued onto the floor.
There was this emptiness inside you. One that likely plagued your mother before everything that unfolded. You tucked your hair behind your ears.
You stared at your hands, watching as each shard fell off like leaves on an autumn day. Your wounds were healing so rapidly swift, that it was quite the show worthy of praise.
ＹＯＵ’ＲＥ ＦＵＣＫＥＤ ＵＰ．
That makes the two of us.
With a twist of your heel, you walked down the corridor to the drawing room nearby, finding your two older brothers with similarly calm exteriors. Antonne was sitting by the edge of one of the sofas, tending to his cheek with an ice pack. Montrell was the first to notice your presence. He was sitting by the make-shift bar, sitting down like a patron but hardly drinking anything at all. He gestured at the med kit atop the auburn coffee table, indirectly telling you to patch yourself up.
You pretended to need for it, unpacking some of its utensils and brashly pouring alcohol all over your limbs and wrapping it up with some bandages.
You watched Antonne glare at you.
“It’s fortunate that purple’s a good color on you.” You grinned at him. “Hopefully that bruise won’t make a guest appearance at the charity event next week.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Antonne spat.
You headed towards the remote to get the television noisy. It was enough to cause a migraine, but it was better off that way. None of your brothers commented on it, which was miraculous, in regards to Antonne.
“You guys care for a drink?” You tiresomely proposed.
Antonne took a second before looking at you. Montrell sat erect, his once crossed legs now uncrossed. Your sudden proposal likely surprised them, seeing how similarly perplexed and amused they were.
You gestured them to go to the balcony.
With each click of your heel, you made your way around the bar, grabbing the sweetest wine you could find and about three chalices. All three of you then hit the cold deck, the green bottle clamoring against the painted, metal table as you popped the cap open.
“It’s nice it ain’t a cork,” You rambled. “Might hit and break another damn window. Can’t be too sure.”
They only listened.
“Does it hurt?” You asked Antonne. “Where did his fist land this time?”
“Up my cheek.” He chewed, spitting out another at the trees. “Couple of mouth sores, might last me about a month.”
Montrell takes the bottle, holding up the title to his gaze. “Vietti Cascinetta.. Moscato d’asti.” He read in perfect Italian. “This was that wine we got from Veronica’s wedding. It’s still here?”
“Daddy hates sweet wine.” You poured him a glass. “Might take away all of what’s left of his masculinity, the sweets I mean.” After pouring yours, you held it up and gleamed. “Cheers.”
All three of you took consecutive sips off of your glasses.
This was an odd rarity. A moment where all three of you were siblings. You hadn’t had such a moment with them in about three years. Now, all of you were old enough to drink wine without coming off as classless bastards. Oh, how the times have changed.
Montrell took out a pack of cigars— new ones, considering how he had to peel off its shiny plastic cover. Antonne reached out for a stick and plucked, making you unconsciously go for one too.
“No.” Montrell warned, taking it away from your hands like a watchful sitter. You blinked at your vacant fingers. “You started smoking at sixteen, why can’t I do that too?”
Upon lighting up the cigar, Montrell casted one look at you, took a hit, blew, and handed you over the cigarette. “Alright, go try it once.”
And you did so, perseveringly, like how every little sister wants to impress her older siblings. You took a hit, and it burned your lungs stronger than vape could ever foster. Like lil ol’ Miles, it didn’t take three seconds before you started coughing up the smoke like an ill child.
“You’re as stubborn as ever.” They say. It was a nostalgic hearing. Stubborn little girl, a walking disaster.
“Perhaps that’s what’s so well-loved about my personality.”
You wondered where it all began— everyone thinking you were stubborn. Was it the insistent way you approached people whenever you had plans, or the way you’d do things out of spite?
“So stubborn about everything. The hotel, the upkeep, the warehouses.. Hell, even about that boy.” Antonne murmured, a gruffness in his sleepy tone.
You sipped.
“… That boy.. Is a hazard to our family name.”
None of them made a sound.
“Dad told me not to tell any of you ‘cause he feared someone else might know of what Miles possesses and they’ll take advantage of it.” You swished the glass. “And since I first discovered it, he placed me on the job.”
“What job in particular? What does that boy have?” Antonne impatiently snapped.
“.. When Mom betrayed us, she had a USB containing every transaction with the other elites, and each location of the warehouses and what they’re storaging. When we sent her off, we burnt everything in her room— including all her files and her electronics, but when I discovered she used one of my old phones to hide evidence, I discovered that.. Miles’ father, Jeff Davis, had a copy of those files.”
“Holy shit.” Montrell verbalized. “But why—“
“Why hasn’t that information been outed? Go place a bet. We even requested to have his corpse researched but he was cremated, which means if the USB was with him, it might’ve been in his uniform, but if it wasn’t— it’s in his house. And since all of us haven’t been arrested yet, father figured the USB is likely currently untouched.”
“… It’s not.” Montrell whispered. “It’s not untouched. The USB is with someone, and they’re releasing information about us bit by bit in the black market.”
“That’s right.” Antonne added. “And whoever it is, is likely watching us closely.”
“But why are you telling us this, [Y/n]? That’s a violation of the code of loyalty.”
You took a sip.
So I’d feel less guilty once you’re all dead.
[AN: Happy New Year everybody! ✨✨ I hope all of you are alright🫶 Take care of yourselves]
[Q&A open too if you guys have any questions in regards to the story]
#miles morales#42 miles morales#42 miles morales x reader#miles morales x reader#astv x you#miles morales x you#astv x reader#astv miles#astv x y/n#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 prowler#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles x reader#miles 42#earth 42 miles morales x reader#prowler miles x reader#miles morales 1610#prowler miles#miles morales fluff#miles morales x y/n#miles morales prowler#1610 miles x reader
150 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
rosedforbes
˘ ᵜ ˘
oh-hush-its-perfect
meet me in the pouring rain!
max-iwtaco
wof
andresricardo1
Sin título
seentheredseentheblue
simply lovely