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bnhxx · 2 months

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I have GYAT to start writing about my best boy Carlos,,,,,members of the jury, it's time

SO MY MAN MY RESPECTFUL POOKIE 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Personal

[Edit]: okay I took the liberty to actually organise this bc it was just verbal diarrhoea ksjsksj

Also this list is NOT exhaustive bc im always thinking up more shit about this man sksgdhdbd

- Man's got game but honestly I think if you did some cute n wholesome shit he would kagsishshw. Like he would have such a GOOFY smile on his face and eat that shit up. Gifts, handmade things, compliments, letters or little sticky notes you leave for him, it really bolsters his confidence. Not that he needs it, but it feels special and makes him warm and fuzzy inside.

-Whether you're always like that or it's a sometimes thing he's gonna tease you though.

"Aww, ya big softie,"

-like he's spent majority of his life in militias and such, he's not used to softness. Apart from the softness and protectiveness he showed his little brothers, and the softness that was shown to him by his mother-which was fleeting at best considering most memories of his childhood would be filled with the thievery he'd resort to to keep his family alive. Hes never really been encouraged to show it, either way-its seen as a weakness.

-and it's not to say Carlos is suffering from good old toxic masculinity, he holds sm respect for Jill and yes she leans into the more hardass fem cop role to protect herself and yes he also STILL flirts w her but tbh the fact that he's respectful and let's her brush him off without getting mad, that's still a big step imo

-bc he's literally been around those types of people for most to all his life. Raised by a militia, basically, and toxic masculinity is so rampant there simply because it's a good coping mechanism for having to fight and kill ppl all the time? Just, switch off those emotions. Don't feel bc you might go absolutely insane with the guilt if you do.

-so yeah, Carlos, though he certainly doesn't seem to be in the chokehold of toxic masculinity, he's still very much affected by it.

-But I think he'd lean on those around him in his journey to healing that sort of fight flight mode, all day, every day, macho man w a cigar hanging out of his mouth type persona.

- He's very much a, if I didn't have the people around me to support me, I wouldn't have gotten this far type of person. And he'll do the inner work if it means becoming a better version of himself.

-like my man's saw Umbrella and was like yeah nah fuck that

-and that takes GUTS. Tyrell really was right when he called Carlos a balsy such and such he has courage for days. So in conclusion he definitely would have the courage to go and heal for himself and others. 100%.

-Definitely takes me as the gym bro to make friends with everyone at the gym. He's there to shred and sometimes he's a little show off but hey, he worked for his gains why not show em off y'know?

- He'll also be the first to rope some asshole in if they're making someone uncomfortable. He likes going to the gym and he'd hate for it to become a place with a bad vibe, not on his watch!! So if he's in the gym is just chill vibes

-theres these dudes on tiktok that are gymbros but they're constantly playfully flirting or making dirty jokes w each other that's Carlos lol.

-I think Carlos would also like hiking. He wouldn't mind camping, so long as he's got a good group to go with-(that usually makes or breaks the camping trip imo) but he prefers to take a hike. The views are worth the pain, he says, trust me!

(You'll believe him when you get back to the picnic sites and he brings out the lunch he had prepped bc you wouldn't go without it jabsjshsjs)

"You're food is what's worth the pain, not the view, Carlos," (he would call you a gremlin for this but it's worth it to see his silly smile)

-Also, cooking!!! Carlos LOVES cooking it's canon. He prefers cooking for people because being able to see his friends or s.o's face when they try his food makes all the hard work worth it. He also gets to spend time with everyone which is a bonus! So if you're friends or dating, expect big dinner parties. As rowdy as they can be they're actually quite chill once everyone's had some of Carlos' special in their belly (we all rubbing our tummies like 🤰🤰🤰 after that food baby kahsisbsj)

Ideal type.

-ON that, he's very family oriented. Because of his upbringing and how he was raised to his personality, but yeah-man's had to fight for his family from day 1 p much. So big protective older brother vibes here. He'd definitely make a good dad!

-I can only see him as a military man bc of his upbringing 😭 but this man is DEF having a reflective moment at the end of RE:3 like while Jill's freaking out bc bye bye Racoon City and trauma he's like,,,okay idk if this life is the one I wanna LIVE so I think he dabbles his toes in a bunch of odd jobs here and there while he's in hiding, post RE:3.

-Like he learnt a LOT of employable skills from the military and he'd definitely go up the ranks but he??? Doesn't know what he really LOVES to do so??? He tries a lot of things tbh.

-In saying that his social circle is WILD. Like I'm talking he picks up a random person off the street, brings them to a party with some of his work colleagues and old workmates from his other job and everyone's Like WHAT do we all have in common 💀

-you know big silly man and you're all gonna love his cooking that's what!!

-he is a silly goofy guy he loves to joke around, but not at the expense of others!! So, he's actually got a lot of friends. They type of person that had loads of friends but only a couple of really close ones ngl.

- Also likes to make mundane things fun by inviting his friends. He's the type to call his friend up like, let's go grocery shopping together bc I hate doing this alone 💔

-and it's a two in one bc his friend is there!!

- I think his ideal type is someone whose not afraid to stand up for what's right. Assertive and forthright are bonuses, but at the end of the day he seeks someone whose moral compass aligned them with the good of people, or someone who cares about community, and others. Someone who, if they see something wrong, won't just look the other way.

-assertiveness and forthright is hot asf in a woman and he loves to see it!! (You and me both brother whew 🥴)

-I think also he comes from a background that's very community centered? So the whole individualistic culture of America and Western cultures would be a bit,,,strange. He'd at least want someone who is willing to have a community mindset bc he just wouldn't vibe too well w someone like that in the long run 🤧 Like it's not like he hates it but how??? Are you alive??? You live like this bro??? Y'all Western countries good????

- deal breakers for him are family, blatant assholes lmao, cheating, and gamblers.

-Hes pretty goofy too underneath it all so he'd want someone who he can be silly with. Someone who won't judge on that, who even plays along with him. He'd adore someone who he can just be silly with. My silly big guy.

-like PLEASE at least crack a smile at his jokes he would low-key take it personally if you didn't laugh or crack a smile when he's joking around or being silly (he would take it VERY personally but he'd stay chill on the outside lmao)

- he plays around a bit after RE:3 bc man's 21, like, what did you expect. But he's also upfront about what he expects from the relationship and expects them to be, too!

- I think he'd be the type to get jealous, if his s/o had a different life than his. Like, white picket fence, smart (this I'd big bc nowhere in Carlos' backstory does it say he had a formal education past military training 🥲), homebody type. Like, he feels almost out of place in their life. Like a stray they picked up off the road, and he needs reassurance that your not just there for his looks and his yummy beefy arms (but yes, he admits they're a plus)

-So someone who's in tune with their and others emotions would be great for him! An attentive s/o who isn't afraid to call out his jealousy (gently) and lovingly remind him that he's the only one they want. ESPECIALLY if it's looking like a long term relo!

-also he'd want someone who shares some hobbies bc he loves doing things w ppl he loves! So if you're not a nature person then honey, you got a big storm coming.

-also I think he'd give it a pass if you has opposite hobbies but you love learning about his ‼️‼️ like when he comes home from his camping trip his s/o is like, so, how was it? Or they're sharing him little camping tips and tricks online or cooking recipes, just show they're interested and talk about his hobbies even if they aren't into them. He'd love this just as much ‼️

-I actually think he'd do really well adopting kids too, because, if he can give a kid a better life?? Tbh just pitch it like that his whole 'for the blood of my family name' would go down p quick bc if he could save a kid from living a childhood he had to he would no light reaction ‼️

- family, because he wants to have a family of his own. He wants to have his own blood if he can which is strange my guy but I respect that. Sort of in a more traditional sense of like I survived and now my family will live a better life type mentality, keep the family tree going y'know?

- If his partner could not/does not want to have kids though I think he would try other forms like surrogacy or ivf or even adoption, because if he found someone he really loved at the end of the day a family isn't simply determined by blood. It might take him a while to get on board with tho but stand on business he'll wrap his head around it eventually.

-again, sort of going off the point earlier but just shitty or selfish people is a no go. Like not caring for others to the point of blatantly putting others at risk to get what you want, not feeling bad about it at all? that's a no no. Obvious reasons here, he fought against impossible odds to put the middle finger up to Umbrella for what they did soo what did you expect?

-cheating, because honesty is key. Cheating is pretty unanimous but like, Carlos is the type to not forgive that. Ever. How could you cheat on the baby boy like he's been through ENOUGH YOUR HONOUR 😭😭😭

-kind of unrelated but I have his dbd voice line of "You're gonna be okay, I promise," in my mind at all times of every day kahsjek

-gambling, because it's such a throw away of large amounts of money. It just doesn't seem right to Carlos. Addiction is hard to break, he gets it, but particularly in large amounts-gambling is just lowkey disturbing to him. He grew up poor so could not be him betting the chance to eat on huge amounts of money. Like he's desperate but he thinks gambling is a scam. Bc it is kshsidjd.

-ALSO there was this tiktok comment on how he paces infront of his s/o's house with flowers to hype himself up and ‼️ yes ‼️ he would so do this it makes me wanna cry thinking about it.

Misc.

-LIKE I could be in the clutches of the ENITITYS realm and still feel good bc Carlos is there, he may move like a turtle in dbd but my man's moving mountains keeping the team together give him a pass ‼️

-everyone saying bring Carlos back to re, capcom you left us in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world, but, BUT....let's just imagine for a moment my man finally found peace after re3 and is just on a beach sipping mimosas. He deserves this he's spent his whole 21 years of his life fighting, give him peace I beg!

-let's live in the delulu that my man's finally got a break from all that shit 🤱

- I want him to just RelAx, take a load off, sit back and enjoy the sunshine after everything bc 😭😭😭

#whoops i didnt realise i actually posted this...unedited 💔#but here!! take these himbo headcanons off my heavy hands #bc i love him and he needs to be shared to the world #i talk about Carlos sm to my friends n they've never seen or played re before n they're just like #????#oh you're talking about the himbo again huh #like 😭😭😭 yes amd i will not STOP talking about him 😤😤😤#carlos oliveira #Carlos Oliveira headcanons #carlos oliveira x reader #re3 carlos #re3 Carlos Oliveira #re3 Carlos Oliveria x reader #nora.yells #bc i am YELLING

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nuetones · 11 months

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live from CAS, i love her sm already

#imma post when she's done #this blog is gonna have a lot of unedited screenshots sorry #idk how to edit pics #ts4 #cas #screenshots #random//#just realized i didnt even put lashes on her yet whoops

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petriquors · 8 months

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😭 hurt me babes

You asked for it!!

😭 share a snippet that will break our hearts

When you get married, no one prepares you for the inevitable: one of you is going to outlive the other. Before your wedding day, or even in the blissful years after, no one ever thinks to say, “hey, half of your heart is going to die someday, and you’re never going to get it back.” No one tells you that the day might come when you’re only thirty-four. There are four police officers in your living room. One of them, a woman, told you there was an accident. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she said, “No one could have known this would happen.” You know better. When your husband is—was—Miguel O’Hara, there’s no such thing as the wrong place at the wrong time. He was exactly where he meant to be, and that got him killed. You want to throw the police officers out of your house, hurl the collection of antique plates his grandmother gave you for your wedding at the wall, and cry for a thousand years. But that’s on the inside. On the outside, your eyes are hard and your jaw is set because this isn’t just about you. It stopped being about you seven years ago, when Gabi was born. So, you excuse yourself to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee for the very nice police officers who just told you that your husband is dead.

Ask me for a snippet!

#it's long because I couldn't figure out an earlier spot to cut it lol #rb the game so I can harass you about your WIPs!!#love letters #love from Lem #this is so extremely unedited whoops #game night!#cw death #cw grief #cw character death #tw death #tw grief #tw character death

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obscureoperations · 2 years

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them w/an s/o apologizing for being a pathetic waste of time <3

Noooo! 🥺😭Mkay here goes..

Martin:

It was rare that Martin got to witness you in such a way, usually you were the beacon of positivity. It was one of the things that first attracted him to you..your ability to light up a room. You balanced each other out perfectly, you offset his somber demeanor. He found himself starting to smile and laugh more from the very day that he met you.

But this was something different entirely, the young man had no idea what to do. You seemed to grow progressively somber and withdrawn over the past few days. He found you sitting at the edge of the windowsill around two thirty in the afternoon. He had gotten off work early and was surprised to see your car in the driveway. He was so excited to come in and see you.

He watched you for a moment from the doorframe, with your head in your hands. What was wrong. The moment he heard you sniffle, he's instantly at your side.. you were still startled to see him. Wiping at your eyes, you try your best to offer a cheery smile. Martin was having none of it. Wiping at your cheeks leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"Y/n?"

"I-Im sorry..."

He was extremely confused. He was used to being the one to dish out apologies. With a sigh, he leans in pressing his forehead against yours.

"Sorry for what love?"

A woosh of air escapes your lungs and Martin pulls you close.

"F-for being such a waste of space."

He was baffled, honestly at a loss for words. What did you mean a waste of space? You were the most important person in the world to him, surely you knew that.

"Don't..y/n.."

More tears begin to stream down your cheeks , and st as qickly Martin wipes them away.

"Don't ever say that. I--I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you."

Whiteface:

The past few months sped by in a blur, the mime was the happiest he had ever been. To think the two of you met completely by accident when he spotted your bike at the side of the road. The gang pulled over instantly when they saw you crumpled down on the pavement. The mirror of your bike was completely shattered laying a few feet to the left.

Needless to say they came to a complete still and alerted the medic, Whiteface had no idea what was going on. Carefully peering out the side of the traveling tent, he finally realized there was an accident. Not one to be able to stomach blood and gore, the slender sprite stayed in the tent. Oddly anxious, he found himself praying that this stranger would be alright.

Days pass and apparently they decided to scoop you up and take you to your actual destination. They didn't mind, Billy had officially taken the crown of another city, so for the most part the crew was just celebrating the win. He liked to stay in the tent with Merlin as he tends to your wounds and brings you sacred offerings. Things that would help you heal, Small satchels filled with various powders.

He grew to really enjoy your presence and for the most part, you seemed to like the company. You always made a point to apologize for being such an inconvenience.. The mime tried his best to assure that was not the case. Personal improvisational shows, juggling various objects he fond in the room. The sound of your laughter was msic to his ears--it was rare that he got to get this close to his audience.

As time passes, the mime finds himself liking you more than he actually should. The moment he arose, he couldn't wait to get to your bunker. He wanted to see how well Merlin's magic was working. You seemed to grow stronger by the day, and it excited him--but at the same time left him with a sense of dread. You were gonna leave eventually. That much could have been expected, but the mime really didn’t think about that. Too wrapped up in basking in your presence-- it surprised him to find you quietly sniffling in the corner of the room one morning.

The moment, he unzip the tent you appear startled, quickly wiping at your eyes. His first thought was that you were in pain, and contemplated calling for Merlin. You try your best to play it off. “Mornin’ sunshine..” That was the nickname you officially gave him. He was having none of it.. the sprite eases his way into the tent, clasping it behind him, before rushing to your side.

In an attempt to meet your gaze, you glance away even as he moves to cup your cheeks. Wiping the stray tears away, his heart hammers against his ribs like a caged bird. This was the closest he’s ever been to you. Actually touching you in a way not merely in passing. He hated seeing you in pain. What happened? Whiteface tries his best to get you to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” you finally whisper. At this point he was completely baffled. He settles on lightly pressing his forehead against yours, silently hoping that you’d continue to speak.

“I’m sorry for being such a waste of space..”

Where on earth was this coming from.. did someone say something? The wheels begin to spin in his mind. All of the gang, himself included were happy to have you along for the ride. The more the merrier. You told such funny stories from your travels, if anything you seemed to bring new life to the crew. A solo cyclist.. none of them could fathom such a thing.

A few more tears spill which you promptly wipe away, he could tell you were growing increasingly embarrassed.

“I’m healing up now.. I should probably try to work on my bik-”

In an instant, His lips are on yours, just lightly..as if testing the waters. You can feel his heartbeat hammering against his ribs..he was so nervous. But why?

You draw him close as you deepen the kiss

Abe:

Sweetness was not in the realm of Abe’s vocabulary, something seemed to switch over the day that he met you. Shivering, curled away at the furthest corner of the kennel--repulsed at the sound of his voice. He had nearly beaten his brother to a bloody pulp the moment he had the audacity to slap you. you were his. No harvest, no offerings. You were going to stay in that house with him. You were going to love him eventually.

Abe left Luke stalking off to his room with a broken nose and quite a few bruises--at this point he didn’t really care. The hose was empty, Luke had gone off to take out his aggression, Cynthia left to collect some herbs. He could hear you scurrying around in the kennel and decided it was time for you to eat.

Taking his time to heat up a can of soup on the gas stove, Abe begins rummaging through the cabinets. In search of garlic powder, black pepper, anything that would make the meal in itself all the more rewarding. With a sigh, he carries the steaming bowl over to the kennel, only to find you huddled up at the farthest corner of the cage.

“Pookie!” He whistles, kicking at the kennel causing you to wince and cover your ears. So cute. He loosens a few buttons on his shirt before easing the steaming bowl into the cage.

“You need to eat darlin’“

You practically convulse, you had no idea when he slipped open the locks. You needed to escape but the warm savoury scent began to overwhelm you. Plain chicken sop the way your dad used to make. The scent was both comforting and completely nauseating. More tears begin to spill. Incoherent words as you try and convince him to let you go. Not good for the harvest. You weren’t a virgin. Yo had so many impurities in your system.

“I-’m just-- a waste of space.. please just let me go..”

You weren’t a waste of anything. You were his chance at a semblance or normality.

Abe found himself leaning in reaching for the lapel of your shirt. He presses his face to your neck inhaling your scent.

“You’re not a waste of nothin’ sweetheart. I’ll see if I can get you strong enough to run away from me.”

#martin 1977 #martin 1978 #martin/you #knightriders whiteface #whiteface/you #midnight 1982 #abe/you #completely unedited ngl #whoops

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jankwritten · 1 year

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We're getting into the parts of Hockey AU that I have never previously revised, which means that for the most part they are massively inaccurate and need to be entirely rewritten in order to fit the way that I've re-done the beginning of the story.

This means: I think I need to go to updating once every 2 weeks. I need to give myself time to really figure out each chapter, as well as provide ample revision and editing time.

#hockey au #spotlight #whoops #i mean this was kind of bound to happen though #Especially since some of the upcoming chapters are already 30-40 pages in their unedited original forms #and I need more than a week to try and tame that specific beast

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etherrreal · 1 year

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🌹👀

according to google docs, I started this Yamamoto "neighbors to lovers" fic in July of 2021.... and I go back to it every single month hoping that somehow it'll finish itself because I love Yamamoto so much 🥲

All the built-up frustration propelled the words out of your mouth. “Okay, I’ve let the noise slide the first time because I assumed it was just a one-time thing, like a housewarming party or something. But you’ve just become progressively worse and louder as the weeks go by, and I’m fucking sick of it! Can you please just keep it down so, hopefully, I can fall asleep tonight before the sun rises?”

His friends in the background quiet down when they hear your voice rise in volume, some shifting uncomfortably from what you can see out of the corner of your eye. Your stare doesn’t leave mohawk-man’s face, however, not even as he stares blankly back at you. If you didn’t think he had a brain previously then you’re absolutely sure of it now.

“Well? Are you gonna say anything?" He still stands there, mouth barely open and eyes just staring at you, blinking occasionally so you know he at least has one brain cell bouncing around in his skull. It becomes obvious that you weren’t getting a response, rolling your eyes in annoyance. "Ugh. Whatever. Just keep it the fuck down because I really hate contacting our landlord for shit."

-Luna

#had to make it small text because it was so damn much whoops 😬#but it's the only part out of 10 pages thus far where they interact lol #yamamoto x reader #etherrreal games #luna speaks #also its unedited if it wasnt obvious by my horrid grammar

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shadowglens · 2 years

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57 for delaney/johnny or 40 for noa/kaidan? 🥺

40. "Don't leave yet."

Kaidan wakes to the sound of glass shattering, and a wet dog shoving at his jaw.

He jolts awake at the intrusion, instincts burning and pulling at the dark matter in his veins before he has even got his eyes fully open. Bruno stumbles off Kaidan’s chest at the stench of eezo that has started to seep from his skin. The curtains shift across the room in the evening breeze. His eyes catch on the shadows that stretch across the floor towards him, the muscles in his back tensing.

Kaidan breathes, once, twice. Cools the burn to a distant hum. Lets his eyes fade from blue to brown until he feels settled in his own skin again. Bruno whines from the side of the bed, low in the back of his throat, and Kaidan settles a reassuring hand on the mutt’s head as he heaves himself from beneath their too-thin sheets. The plush carpet digs between his toes, and he tries to find comfort in the feeling like he knows normal people would.

Small steps, or however the saying goes. He’ll keep pretending until it sticks.

Bruno whines again, pulling Kaidan back to the present, before slowly wandering back to the ensuite. Right. The sound of glass scattering on tiles echoes through the ajar doorway. Kaidan doesn’t need to check the bed to know Noa isn’t in it.

He doesn’t panic and forces himself to walk rather than run the five or six steps. Bruno has pulled to a stop just outside the bathroom, his ears low on his head. Kaidan pats him again as he gently nudges the door open.

“Noa?”

She’s sprawled in a mess of water and glass, and if Kaidan rubs at the sleep in his eyes, he can see some blood speckled on the white tiles. Her skin glows with sweat in the dimmed lighting. The scarring is still just this side too bright, too raw, where it criss-crosses her bare torso and limbs. A still-healing skin graft here, a restitched limb there. From this angle, twisted as she is, the red of her cybernetics almost burns through the worn skin at the seam of her shoulder. His eyes, as always catch on her ribs where they dig at her skin, and Kaidan reminds himself to just breathe.

Her eyes stay planted on her hands where they’re splayed in front of her, shaking so badly he can hear her nails tapping against the floor.

Kaidan tugs a towel from behind the door and immediately moves to gather some of the glass with it. His knee protests as he crouches, but he ignores the ache, even if he’ll probably regret it tomorrow. Too bad.

The two of them sit in silence for what feels like an hour. Kaidan busies himself gathering up the glass shards; it was a glass of water, judging by the small trails of it that are snaking their way around Noa’s feet, one organic and one artificial. He eyes her hands discreetly as he cleans, but the damage seems minimal.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually murmurs. She still hasn’t moved besides to keep shaking herself apart at the seams.

Kaidan wants to touch her. He throws the bundle of towels and glass into the corner instead. “It’s okay.”

Noa slams her already-bleeding palm flat against the tiles, and Kaidan doesn’t need to look to know the veins on her neck are bulging against her clenched jaw. “I just – I just –”

More blood has spilled onto the floor now, a slow trickle of it running down the inside of her wrist. Kaidan gently reaches for her hand, half expecting to have to fight her for it, but all Noa’s fight was left in orbit six months ago, and she relents. A shard of glass juts out of her skin. She doesn’t flinch when he pries it out.

He keeps her palm held lightly in his own and smooths out the worry etched on his face. “Do you want me to go?

Last night, she’d said yes.

The night before that, too.

It’s the routine they’ve found themselves in ever since she was discharged a month ago. He offers himself as a crutch, and she shoves it away only to stumble to her knees and curse him for it. Kaidan deludes himself that Bruno is helping, even if Noa had spat that he was just another spectator to her downfall the day after they’d brought the dog home.

Kaidan just holds her bleeding hand and stares at the green of her eyes when she lifts her head to look at him and hopes. It’s all his old, stitched-back-together heart can manage anymore; loving Noa, and hoping for Noa. One in the same now, really.

The fight is worth it. Always was, always will be.

A tear tracks down Noa’s freckled cheek as she whispers, “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kaidan says, swallowing around his heart. He gingerly brushes the hair from her eyes. It’s getting long. “How’s your other hand?”

This time at least, when he holds out his hand for hers, she gives it to him.

#writing tag #ch: noa shepard #noa x kaidan #solasan #mollie i truly have no idea how long this prompt has been sitting in my inbox #weeks? months? who Knows #but i finally got around to it because ive been in shenko hell the past few days #thank you for sending this!! im sorry its been literally forever!!#anyway have some angst post-war shenko #this is unedited so whoops for bad grammar adsjfsdg

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utterlyazriel · 13 days

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let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

#YIPPEE! written in like... 3 days #no editing less go #love it or leave it #a break from all the doom and gloom of wtssf #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger x you #sloane writes

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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months

Text

Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

all this, and love too (will ruin us)

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: The night of Oliver's party and both yours and Felix's moods are ruined upon finding out Oliver had been lying to you both for your entire friendship. While sticking with Felix all night to make sure he doesn't maim Oliver, Felix realises he doesn't like sharing you anymore. You're more than okay with this, but Oliver doesn't seem to be okay with sharing Felix, even if he has no say anymore. Canon tries to happen, but you get there first, so you kill the problem at it's source.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: MAZE SCENE; death, murder, violence, nongraphic smut, dominant felix, bathroom blowjob, oliver's birthday party situation, oliver being incredibly manipulative, reader being incredibly manipulative back at him, heavy drinking and drug use, You VIOLENTLY Murder Oliver Quick In The Maze.

A/N: 6074 words. oh god these oneshots are only getting longer and longer. whoops. but also PLEASE heed the warnings. this is the Reader Kills Oliver oneshot (first of two) that i was talking about. not sure how i feel about it. its very unedited.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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On the drive back from his parents' house, Oliver sits in the back. Like a scolded child he keeps his gaze low and voice even lower. None of you speak the entire drive back; you try and focus on the wind in your hair and the hum of the car and not how your stomach is turning. In your mind you see the connections as they light up, small things you'd missed, things that are starting to make a lot more sense.

You wonder what other lies you could have gotten ahead of if Oliver hadn't been so nervous about you going through his file at Oxford.

Every single thing about him was designed specifically to be appealing, to you, of course, but more importantly to Felix. It was meant to be you who knew it all, could see the full board and all the pieces the people around you moved; it was meant to be you who could plan well enough and see far enough out to keep Felix out of situations exactly like this.

Felix is curt and swift the moment he's out of the car, trying to escape Oliver who rushes after him, his desperation echoing through the halls. You're several steps behind Oliver, silent, watching the exchange, watching Oliver cling to an ever-dwindling hope for even friendship, as Felix calls out the weirdness of his ongoing lies, tearing that hope asunder.

"I just wanted to be your friend," is all Oliver can say when pressed about his lies. It's genuine, it breaks your heart, but it doesn't make it better. For a moment, you see conflict as it flashes across Felix's face, but he clearly can't do this right now, needing at least the night, but promising not to tell his family.

As you go to leave, go to follow him, Oliver catches your sleeve, holds it too tight for just a moment -

"I thought you knew," his voice wobbles, but there's something like alarm bells in the back of your mind. Everything about Oliver is purposeful, even now. But you know him, you know how he likes to play.

"No you didn't," you look at his fingers still coiled in your sweater, watch him drop them, "you knew I trusted you." You wouldn't let him shift this blame; the faint dismay you can see in his eyes behind the hurt gives him away. He knew Felix had more emotions than sense, but somewhere along the way he seemed to have forgotten that you were so much more than another adoring fan in Felix's shadow.

"'m sorry," stumbles from his mouth almost like a reaction to the look in your eyes, "for hurting Felix with all this, I- I never wanted that," he shakes his head, dropping his gaze, "or hurt you," tacked on as an afterthought. Both of you know where he was placing the importance of that apology. Everything Oliver Quick does is with purpose.

"I know you are, Oliver," you tell him, standing tall and unflinching as you left him alone.

"If you leave my side tonight I'm going to maim him," is how Felix greets you when you enter your room. Sitting on his bed, you see a little, ornate box open in front of him, and you recognise it as one of the few stashes he had around the estate for desperate times. This one, if you recall correctly, was shoved well beneath Henry the Eighth's bed, and had a decent amount of coke that you'd left here after last Christmas.

"Can't fucking believe- I can't fucking believe him!" He rants, cutting up lines of coke on the little hand mirror Venetia had donated to this particular stash box. Mind working a million miles a minute, you're quiet, letting him rant. Running on autopilot, you begin to strip down to your underwear, pulling out your costume for the night, frowning at it in the afternoon light.

"How complicated is your costume?" Felix asks, finally looking up, gazing over at you and the sheer, shimmering thing in your hands. Without a word, but with a vague shrug, you turn it to him.

The base was like something you'd see at a rave, little more than green underwear, with straps, and beading, and jewels, and loops of green and purple pearls by your hips that would bounce while you walked. The overcoat, though it was far to generous to call it that, was pure gossamer, sheer and green, with hand-stitched silk leaves making up the hem that fell perfectly to your ankles, and intricate, hand embroidery of vines that extended across both shoulders, and both arms, ending with little, purple flowers embroidered by your wrists.

There's large, brown boots with a bit of a hell and some large buckles, and a belt that's half a skirt that hit just below your knee to give you some coverage, at least on your left, sewn to look like it was covered in leaves. Plus a leather thigh harness and flask that Farleigh had gotten you made for your last birthday.

Leaning back, Felix reaches out to feel the gossamer between his fingers, frowning for a beat.

"Don't be precious about it."

For a moment, you frown in confusion. Despite your entire outfit being exquisitely and perfectly tailored, you knew you could afford to not be precious about pretty much anything, even this. But that's never been an outright request he's made.

"I'm not?"

Quiet follows, the soft rustle of your garments as you begin to get dressed, and Felix quickly snorting a line of coke.

"I'm going to lose my fucking mind tonight," he mumbles. Even though you're half dressed, you still lean over his shoulder automatically as he lifts the mirror and the rolled bill up to you like an offering, holding the mirror steady for you.

"I need a drink," you groaned, to which Felix immediately agreed.

"God, why don't we stash anything in here?" He lamented, laying back and watching you head to the door once more while you're trying to do up your belt to hold up your partial leaf skirt, still without your overcoat.

"Because that's tacky and we're not alcoholics." Even with your explanation, Felix pouted. Still, it's a quick trip to the Blue Room and the bottle of rum you're glad Venetia hadn't found in the broken piano.

The night gets blurrier, gets better, with half a bottle of liquor in your veins before the sun even sets. As you're making yourself dreamy and ethereal with glitter and gems and makeup in the mirror, Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, pouting again. The drinks and drugs are already hitting you both and you can hear the revelry beginning outside.

"It's not going to last," he says pointedly, and you're confused until you see him trying to poke at the iridescent eyeliner that wasn't quite dry. Rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away. So he makes his point again, adding, "I'm going to get glitter all over me."

You smirked at him in the mirror, tipping your head against his.

"Don't be precious about it."

A spirit amongst the fairies, you greet your college friends with open arms and boundless enthusiasm, always keeping Felix close at hand. He was more subdued than you, more subdued than many of your friends were used to. Whenever you looked at him, it seemed like his gaze was searching, his expression drawn unless someone had caught his attention, and he wore a smile that seemed to convince them.

"Need a drink," his hand around your wrist and no time to protest, Felix dictated your night and it's pace. Frustration and apprehension keep him tense, even as he tries to loosen up; you feel every time that tension spikes, even if you don't know it's cause. His nails dig into you, wherever he's holding you, shoulder, thigh, arm -

In the bathroom, doing lines with India and some guys who claim to be friends of friends of the Cattons, you're leaning against the sink until you Felix nudge your knee with his own. Looking to the door, you see Oliver in white, taking up it's space. Felix only has to gently tap your thigh for you to shift, sitting in his lap.

"You can't ignore me forever," Oliver tells him, watching you both, watching the way Felix wraps an arm around your middle to hold you close and secure on him.

"I can try," Felix practically sings, his nails sinking into your stomach. With his free hand, he offers you his cigarette, raising it to your lips. You drop your gaze as you inhale, trying to only focus on keeping Felix secure in this moment.

"Felix we need to talk," Oliver insists, "Felix, come on man -"

"Look, man, I tried to be nice -" Felix started, and though you tried to gently warn him, pressing against him with Fi on your lips like you hope he won't say something he'll regret, he just holds you tighter and continues on, "but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"

India half snorts with laughter in the middle of a line of coke, the others all judging Oliver the longer he lingers in the doorway, but Felix drops his gaze. His lips are on your shoulder to keep from saying anything else.

One of guys whose names you don't know asks who Oliver even was, but Felix can't answer; tension again, maybe anxiety or frustration, but his mouth moves from the gossamer and embroidery on your shoulder to your bare skin above the neckline, where your collar meets your throat. His teeth sting. His nails still sting. He swears under his breath before he lets go.

"Sorry," he mumbles finally, sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You tell him it's okay, voice fond, but when you lean over to do another line of coke, you meet India's reproachful gaze. It takes you a long few seconds to connect the dots, to realise what was going on in her head. You're so fucking over everything tonight.

"You know Farleigh was lying to you about us, right?" You say casually, taking your line and sitting back up. Her eyebrows rise in surprise, "I know you think we're all gross and cousin-incest-y -" you hear Felix's faint laughter behind you, and feel him nudge you with his thigh, silently asking you to get up. Both of you do, and Felix manages his first proper smile of the night, even if it is smug.

"But we're not related," he tells her, "thank fucking god," and smacks your ass as the two of you exit, as if to just prove a point.

You're on your knees in a different bathroom when you hear everyone else start to sing happy birthday, but Felix's voice is a low growl of don't you dare stop, and his hands in your hair. Nothing else matters to you in this state of mind, blurry, pliant, desperate to follow his every command. It's as if you've forgotten what exists outside of Felix's hands on you.

The night becomes lights that are too bright, and music too loud, and laughter and glitter and the warmth of the people dancing around you. After a few hours you feel yourself starting to come down from your high, starting to come back to yourself, still on the dance floor. Venetia's dancing with a blonde boy, looking so pretty, like she's having a genuinely fun night, but when you point it out, Felix takes your hand.

"Don't look at Ven," there's that hunger in his eyes, that firm tone he'd been using all night, "don't touch Ven, don't -" he cuts himself off, wets his lips. Looking around for a moment, he spots something in the crowd that makes him scowl. Just a moment, as you follow his gaze, you see Oliver. The moment your eyes lock with his, however, Felix has his lips on your jaw.

"Fucking mine."

There's half a second where you and Oliver are still locked in this moment, you watch the way his expression starts to shift, jaw tensing, something like anger flickering in his eyes. But you can't bring yourself to give a shit about Oliver as Felix has his arms around you, kissing down your throat with a feverish, almost lewd intensity in the middle of the dancefloor.

"Prove it," and you let him drag you from the house, heading towards the place that had always felt a little special for you both, almost a little magical.

"I'm being selfish," Felix announced as you finally hit the tree line just before the maze, "I don't fucking care anymore, I'm being selfish, about you -!" He turns to look at you, only to see you gazing up at him with starry-eyes, hanging on his every word. He breaks into a sheepish grin momentarily, shaking his head as his voice drops for a moment, "oh, you're fucking loving this, aren't you?"

"I want you so bad right now it's actually embarrassing," you agreed with a wide grin, unable to contain your laughter, despite how genuine the feeling was.

"I'm being selfish," he said once more, muttering it this time, though as you entered the maze and the moonlight peaked down upon you, you could see the blush still upon his cheeks, "I don't want anyone else to fucking touch you again, you hear me?" This time, when he looks at you, he thinks he can see hearts in your eyes; your overwhelming love and acceptance, even for this -especially for this- is making it very hard to keep the stern act up, except -

"Anything you say," you tell him, breathless as you approach the centre of the maze, voice edging on desperate, "anything at all." And you see it hits him just where it had needed to, to hear you wanting and wanton and offering yourself to him -

The gossamer overcoat is ruined, scratched all up the back where you're pinned against the statue, half sitting on the base with your legs around Felix's, your fancy green undergarments around one ankle. His nails scratch down the bare skin of your back, fucking into you with furious intent to match.

"You've always been mine," he groans into your ear.

"Felix -" you whimpered. Immediately he was grinning, lips inches from yours, gazing at you through his lashes.

"How's that proving anything?" He teases, low and knowing, and as his hips snap up to meet yours, you take the hint, his name getting louder and louder on your lips as you almost chant it, till his hand is between you both, helping get you off, and you're close and all but screaming his name and -

"Felix." Not from you. Oliver.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" Felix immediately looks murderous, and not in a fun, sexy way. Oliver's demanding to talk to him while you struggle to pull your underwear back on.

"Could hear you out there," Oliver mumbles, half stumbling over his words, unable to look at you, focused on the dirt by your feet instead.

"Kind of the point, Ollie," you snapped, frustrated and now unsatisfied, but dressed once more.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver?" Felix demanded. Oliver advances on him, presses into his space with desperate eyes and a bottle clutched to his chest. He doesn't look at you, he can't fucking look at you, you don't matter. It's Felix and his emotions who lead every situation the two of you share; it's Felix he has to win back over.

But he should have expected you not to leave, should have expected that when Felix pushed him away, shouted for him to get the fuck away, that you would try and step in.

"He's already got you on a leash, can I just have this one fucking moment?!" He snaps at you; he doesn't hit you but you recoil like he has, and Felix's gaze grows cold. Oliver seems to sense this before he even turns back, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just- they already have everything -"

"Back off." Felix warns sharply, but Oliver can't help himself, won't listen.

"I just gave you what you wanted!" Oliver throws himself at Felix, pins him to the statue, their bodies flush and Oliver rambling, "like everyone else does! Everyone puts on a show for Felix..." his voice drops, childish and weak and wanting, and you watch him press himself closer as he turns gentle, "so I'm... I'm sorry if my performance wasn't good enough..."

"I think..." some part of it was working on Felix, his voice soft and placating, "I think you need to see somebody," or maybe he knows by now exactly how Oliver wants him to act; his eyes never leave Oliver's face, even when he doesn't let him go, "you need help okay, seriously -"

"No, no, I don't," Oliver's voice is rising again, "I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you," a tremble in his voice, sounding so raw, so needy, "you're the only friend I ever had, Felix." The manipulation is so blatant it almost hurts; you don't matter to him in this moment, all that matters is saying exactly whatever Felix needs to believe.

"I mean, doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you?" That hope, that dangerous, heartbreaking note of hope that's going to make your skin crawl. But you're not leaving without Felix, and he's not leaving this moment it seemed, "I'm still the same person, yeah? I'm still the same person," he insisted.

A long few moments pass, Felix's gaze searching Oliver's face for something beyond you. But then, finally, his gaze slips to you. All you can do is shake your head.

"Don't-" Oliver murmurs faintly, tipping his head to try and block you from Felix's line of sight, but Felix turns his attention back, expression helpless.

"I don't know what you are," he breathes, "but I do know you; you make my fucking blood run cold."

The fight drains out of Oliver, as does every last drop of hope. He lets Felix push his hands away, makes himself give Felix space to breathe. After a beat, he looks back at you, unsteady on his feet, pain in his eyes, but then he lurches, quickly shoves his half-finished bottle into Felix's hands, and rushes away to be sick.

Oliver is doubled over, retching, when you get to Felix. Before he can raise Oliver's bottle to his lips, you tuck yourself under his arm and wrap him up in a hug. He's trembling, but you feel the bottle against your back. Felix tucks his face into the crook of your neck, tears unspilled, clinging to his eyelashes.

"Better?" You ask forlornly once Ollie had gone quiet.

"Fuck off," he spits, finally coming back around. You watch him over Felix's shoulder, and the glare he levels at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand is almost surprising. Still, you try and show the same compassion you knew Felix would in this moment.

"Wash the taste out of your mouth," you try and tell Ollie gently, moving carefully out of Felix's arms, wrapping your fingers around the neck of the bottle he'd brought with him, "I think you should go to bed after." Oliver doesn't even reach for the bottle, but he does stop, looking between it, and then between you and Felix.

"Please," Felix sighs, head bent and bottle clasped tightly in his hand, "I need this."

"We can get another," you tell him quietly, calmly. Felix's gaze flicks to yours, imploring for just a moment, but dropping again when you don't relent. Felix sighs, once more, but finally relents, handing you over the bottle. Which Oliver has kept his focus on, brow now furrowing.

"I gave you everything else of mine, my drink's not even good enough for you anymore, like the rest of me?" He sneers, reaching unsteadily for the bottle in your hands, though his eyes and their focus betray him. Something lights up in the back of your mind, like one of those memories that made far more sense once Oliver's lie had been revealed. Alarm bells once again.

Felix stumbles to a halt -

"Fucking fine -" but as he tries to reach for the bottle again you step out of his range, beginning to see red as you got closer to Oliver, prickling with suspicion, "what is your problem, Y/N," Felix sounds so fucking tired, but all you can see is the deer of a boy before you growing wide eyed as he looks into yours.

"It's Oliver's," trying with all your might to not jump to conclusions, you hold the bottle out, desperately hoping that you'd connected the wrong dots, that Oliver was just drunk and as helpless as he appeared, that he couldn't be this malicious or vindictive-

"You want me to be sick again?" He tries to stand up to you, bottle pressed to his chest and refusing to step back even as you continue to crowd his space, "fuck off." He's seeming more sober, more alert, more with himself with each minute that passes. The distant noise of the party rings in your ears and all you can think about is the cold bottle between you and how Felix had almost -

"Leave him alone," Felix called out, footsteps in the grass sounding as though he was making his way back to the maze, "he's not worth it."

"He's pathetic," you spit, nose to nose with Oliver now, face heating up as hot, angry tears begin to close your vision. Still, you can see in Oliver's eyes that he's finding fewer and fewer ways to escape the situation.

"I don't care what either of youse think of me anymore," Oliver's lip curls as it quivers, trying to play distraught and callous all at once, "go fuck each other to feel like you're not just a fucking waste of space, vapid cunts -" he can see he's touched a nerve by the way your expression lights up with malevolent fury.

"Fi," there's a shake in your voice that you can't even fight, "please leave."

"Can you please come with me," Felix sounds like he's on the verge of tears, and when you turn, he's reaching for you, his hand shaking, "please can we go?" He begs.

An angel. Your best friend. Your everything. Your Felix.

Seeing him like this, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Oliver's greed and jealousy would rather see Felix hurt than not in love with him, you couldn't let him get away with it. Finally you start to cry, even if you hadn't meant to, and the sight of it has Felix begging for you to leave with him. Oliver starts pushing, demanding that you both fuck off.

"Give me a minute, My Felix," you tell him, trying to smile, trying to reassure him, "I'll catch up."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"I don't want you to see this," you turn back to Oliver with newfound resolution. He's stepped back, leaning himself against the statue, doubled over, head in his hands.

"See what?" Felix asks dubiously, and Oliver looks up, sees the way you're approaching him, and scrambles to straighten his posture.

"Ollie's going to have a little drink," you offer him the bottle again.

"Tryna make me sick again?" He snarls.

"Then use it to wash your mouth out, then swallow," you order coldly, "and repeat until the bottle's empty."

"Why should I?"

"Because it's just as perfectly fine as when you handed it to Felix," you hissed, voice low enough that Felix himself couldn't properly hear. Oliver narrowed his eyes, matching your tone.

"If I don't?"

"What I will do to you, Oliver Quick, will be much worse than whatever you've put in that bottle, so you'll drink it all up," you leaned in, whispering close and menacing, "and if you do throw it up, I will have you on your belly, like the worm you are, sucking your own sick off of the fucking ground."

"What the fuck is going on?" Felix demanded, and you turned, taking a deep breath and hopefully giving a much more convincing, determined smile.

"He made you cry."

Felix's expression immediately changed. All soft and fragile but understanding, he just asks that you don't be long. You promise not to be. Both you and Oliver watching him go.

Once in the clear, you turn back to your captive audience, keeping your voice low.

"I'm not going to make you drink it," you admit, and though Oliver's confused and on edge, he seems to relax, just a little.

"The fuck do you want from me then?"

"I just need to hear you say it," you step back from him, give him space, even step around to place the bottle at the foot of the statue and lean your forehead against the cool stone.

"Say what -?"

"I'm not fucking stupid, Ollie," you groaned, looking at him out of the corner of your eyes, "you think I could hurt you? I ruin lives behind the scenes, I couldn't -" you flail your hands awkwardly, rocking back on your heels, turning to him properly once more. It appears to work, however, as Oliver is now only regarding you warily, instead of seeming actively cautious. "I was... hurt," you admitted, "I know why you said it, but I was hurt to hear you say Felix was your only friend."

"That's not -" he tried, defences lowering further as he attempted to defend himself.

"No, I get it; I've done terrible things because I love Fi, I couldn't imagine," you cast a pitying, apologetic look to Oliver, "him not loving me back."

And it works. He cracks, little by little. The tears begin to form, the lip starts to tremble.

"It's not fucking fair," it already sounds like there's a lump in his throat, "why do you deserve his love?" He scowls, "why can't I? I can be like you, I can be good -" he babbles, sniffling harshly amongst his defiantly sharp tone, "I know I could be," you gently wrap an arm around him and he fists a hand to tightly in your overcoat that it tears, "I was everything he wanted me to be -"

"I know, Ollie, I know," you carefully remove his antlers, holding them in one hand as you coax him in close, running a comforting hand through his hair.

"I wanted him to love me, I wanted- I never wanted him hurt, but wanted him dead so it wasn't my fault if he didn't love me; he couldn't love anyone -" he breaks down into furious tears, "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I hate you, I hate that he loves you without you even trying -" there's no apology in his distress, even as he lets you hold him close, and you, for a few more moments, whisper reassuring nonsense. "I never wanted to hurt him," he mumbled softly, "but I wanted to kill him. I could never hurt him," there's anger and guilt in his eyes as he looks up at you, tear soaked and helpless, "but I wanted to hurt you." What you give him in return is pity, is sweetness and apology, but your blood is burning through your veins.

"You would have regretted it."

"I know..."

"Are you lying?"

"I think I am."

You have what you need, the confession, the intention; validation for your motivation. Hook, line and sinker.

"Hey, Ollie, Ollie, darling look at me, I know, okay, I know-" you try, taking his face in your free hand.

"No you fucking don't!" Oliver insists, but you keep insisting, "don't fucking take that tone, I just told you I was trying to kill Felix to hurt you -!" He thrashes, but your gentleness is unrelenting in this moment. You will give Oliver Quick what he deserves.

"Ollie, look at me, okay? Look me in the eyes, please -" you begged, and finally he did, despair and anger all there amongst the tears, "keep looking me in the eyes," you tell him gently, and firmly, and he does, too curious for his own good and wanting to see where this was going -

"Everything," you give him the faintest, reassuring smile, one hand on his face, shaking, messily wiping tears from his cheeks with your thumb as he keeps your gaze, "is going to be -"

- and you ram one of his antlers into his soft, exposed belly with all your strength. Surprise and pain hit him all at once and suddenly he's scrambling, trying to get your hands off of the headpiece. But he's winded, and suddenly in overwhelming pain.

"- fine," you breathe out, shaking with adrenaline. You have him pinned against the statue, just like he'd had Felix only minutes ago.

"Eyes, Oliver," you ordered coldly, while making sure to keep smiling, even as fresh traitorous tears were gathering and already spilling down your cheeks. Hand in his hair coming to grip him tightly, keeping his gaze level with yours, "what did I say? I want you to look me in the eyes -" and you rip the antlers out before plunging them back into his gut. Lips twisting into an animalistic snarl involuntarily, Oliver splutters and fights and squirms but everything is becoming slippery, and warm, and slick with his blood. The antlers, your hands, and his; hard to get a grip like the firm one you had on your weapon of choice.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-" he chokes out helplessly, bloody hands moving up, trying to grip your arms, your shoulders, your face, "how -fuck- why -?"

"Whatever you had in that bottle is too good for you; you tried to kill Felix, you said so yourself."

As his strength begins to fail, the way he holds your face turns tender, almost gentle, before his hands fall back to rest on yours, both gripping the bloody antler. Oliver's weight rests on the statue, watching you with despair and helpless, pained moans. Cheeks wet with tears, you can't even fathom how you're doing this, or who you will be once it's done.

"You are not the minotaur of this maze," you grit your teeth, leaning your weight on the headdress, driving it into his guts until the bloody antler snapped clean off of the headdress, you still can't bring yourself to stop. It doesn't feel like enough. He tried to kill Felix. So you took the other antler in hand, unable to stop yourself, shaking with rage and tears, "you are the dear in my fucking headlights; you tried to hurt Felix, you tried to kill Felix! You are nothing, nothing, nothing," you punctuate each nothing with another bloody, unnecessary jab until you can't keep going. The second antler collapses to the ground, and you stumble back, hands shaking.

"Didn't want to hurt him," Oliver insists weakly.

"You were someone we loved," you can see the first antler still jutting out of him, stemming the blood flow but undoubtedly causing excruciating pain. But you spare him no sympathy, only a look of absolute loathing, finally taking in what you've done, the blood your fury had shed. "Someone I loved!" Burst from you, raw brutal betrayal scraping its way from your throat, face hot and wet with tears, falling to your knees, looking up at him with an exhausted fury, "you will never hurt him again. I will never give you that chance."

But Oliver's quickly unfocusing gaze slips from you, rising to a point beyond you, out into the maze. A weak, faint, but somehow still triumphant smile works it's way across his lips.

"Him?"

Like in a horror movie, you cast your gaze over your shoulder. You hear when Oliver finally gives out, stop holding himself up on the statue and fall to the ground, but all you can see is Felix at the edge of the maze.

And that look in his eyes.

Oh god, what have you done?

"Felix," tears start welling in your eyes again, and finally he looks away from Oliver's body, his own antler protruding from him, slowly bleeding out, to you. From here, he can't see the blood on your hands, the blood that's all over you, but he can see it all over Oliver, "Fi, please, you need to -" but he's stepping towards you, almost automatically; he looks ill. You have to look away, can't bear for him to see what your rage has brought about.

"I'm not," his words are robotic, still a bit slurred, and he keeps looking at Oliver, "going without you. 'said that." But he stops behind you. Eyes closed, you wait, you can't bear to even look at him. Then, slowly, he moves. When you breathe, it makes you shake, but you slowly open your eyes.

Felix approaches Oliver. You watch the faint, far away smile wears as he sees Felix up close once more.

"Fe-lix," he sighs faintly, reaching out with weak, shaking, bloody hands, feather light finger tips leaving red streaks along Felix's cheeks, his jaw, his lips. Felix's head dips in close, into Oliver's aching touch, his forehead resting against Oliver's in this moment.

"You were going to fucking kill me, Ollie?" Felix whispered through clenched teeth, on the edge of tears.

"'m sorry," Ollie mumbled weakly, shock and blood loss catching up with him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, "didn't want to hurt you."

"You wanted to kill me -"

"It wouldn't hurt."

"It would have hurt them!" Felix grabbed him by the collar with one hand, wrenching the dying boy up enough to see him pointing at you, still kneeling on the ground, second bloody antler laying in front of you. All Oliver could do was make a pained whimper, and Felix dropped him back to the ground, "and you said it yourself-" his voice is venomous, but your breath catches as you realise just how much he must have heard to know that, "and even having a thought like that," he snarls, hatred burning in his eyes, "means you don't fucking know me at all."

Felix is by your side in the very next moment, pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against the base of the sculpture. You're sobbing into your bloody hands, nothing else to do or say. Even as he's shaking, as he's crying too, Felix doesn't let you go, doesn't let you feel anything but secure with him.

"You saw it all, didn't you?" You whispered finally, and feel him nod.

"I said I wouldn't leave without you."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -" and while he tells you that you don't have to be, the words, the fears, the desperate justifications and rationalisations pour out of you, "he said he was trying to kill you, Fi, and I couldn't- I should have walked away, just gotten him kicked out or taken away or- or- but I couldn't," you gasped, "I couldn't let him ever have that kind of chance again, I couldn't risk that, my mind wouldn't let me -"

"I know, I love you," Felix murmurs weakly, his forehead against your shoulder once more, "dad and Duncan will know what to do, they'll take care of it tomorrow," he sounds so young in this moment, so tired and fragile. You nod quietly, leaning into him. When his hands find yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tightly, Oliver's blood is still sticky on your skin. Neither of you seems to care.

"How did you know something was so wrong?" Felix finally asked, the air cooler and quieter now. You have no idea how much time has passed, but it sounds as though the party was winding down. Oliver's party.

"He wasn't that drunk," you said after a long moment of deliberation, "could see it in his eyes," taking a deep breath, you cast your gaze to the guest of honour, completely still, chest no longer shifting with shallow, frantic breathes, "if he wasn't drunk, why was he sick?" Sighing, you leaned into Felix. You felt so hollow; "everything Oliver Quick did, he did with purpose."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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torasplanet · 5 months

Text

❝𝙎𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙃.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + YEAGER!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; eren made your grade in history drop 'cause he's a fat jerk! so what better way to get back at your dear brother than to fuck his best friend behind his back?

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, fluff, aftercare, riding, p in v, nerd!armin, kinda slut!reader, eren being eren, like two flashbacks, armin being a sorta good best friend, praise, petnames (baby), kinda switch!armin, childhood crush to lovers, reader having a HUGEE crush on 'minnie >o<, seduction, loverboy! armin, eren being jean's #1 h8r, round two hinted at end, college au, lingere, armin wears glasses cuz i said so >:( !!, kinda sappy, unedited might do it l8r idk, science shit cuz im a nerd, skin color not mentioned

Eren was the worst big brother ever.

You wouldn’t have chosen to live with him if housing wasn’t so expensive and you two didn’t go to the same college because he’s annoying as shit. He always holds it against you that you’re living with him whenever you tell him to leave you alone. He was probably the worst person ever to be honest and what he had done yesterday was not helping his case one bit.

See, eren was a coffee person and not one of those regular coffee people. The ones that go insane without their dark roast.

Not so surprising when he’s a college student but he’d never been once before being enrolled so you still weren’t used to him drinking it so when he went into your room saying he forgot something in there with a mug in his hand, you didn’t think much of it and stayed in your spot on the couch watching some random Netflix show you liked, you’d watched it a thousand times but it still entertained you but not enough that you didn’t hear eren curse from your room.

When you rushed up to go inside and ask what in the fuck he did, you couldn't even speak when you saw dark brown liquid spilled all over your five-page essay that was on your desk and there was no saving these, they were completely soaked and the words were mixing because of the wetness of the paper. You cursed your professor for making you write it on paper because this could easily happen. And with Eren being as clumsy as he is, of course, he was the one to make it happen.

He didn’t even care that much either! He just said ‘Whoops, sorry.’ and left, he didn’t offer to redo it for you or anything! And because of him, your grade in history has dropped by a lot. Like a B to an F-. You didn’t even know an F- was possible!

Eren was going to pay for this one way or another, but the issue with upsetting him was that Eren didn’t care about most things in the world. You could cut his hair in his sleep and he’d just get a new haircut, you could key his car and he’d be mad but he’d probably do worse to you. You could tell Mikasa about all the embarrassing dreams he’s had about her but he’d just deny it and then punch you later.

But the one thing that would send Eren off the rails was getting with one of his friends. Eren didn’t care if you were friends with his friends but if you even thought about liking one of them, he’d shut that shit down immediately. The idea of you getting with any of his friends disgusted him and he never wanted it to happen which is why you were going to do that; not only were you going to do that but you were going to do it behind his back which would just piss him off more once he eventually found out.

Sure it was extreme but it was the only thing that would actually fuck with him and that wasn’t your fault plus he was friends with a bunch of hot people…including, Armin.

Armin Arlert. Eren’s best friend since they were little kids, you often saw him a lot in your childhood and still saw him a lot in the present and you liked that. Armin was a cutie ever since you guys were young, even with his long hair he was a cutie but now that he cut it short, he was hot. So with your choice of revenge and Armin being hot, you practically had everything laid out.

You didn’t know how Eren would find out or if you would tell him but you got the seduction and the fucking part down! That’s all you needed honestly.

Most of this was so you could get back at Eren but at the same time, some of it was because you had the tiniest crush on Armin ever since you both were little kids. Even though you’ve fucked a bunch of guys, had them sleep over, and dated a lot, your micro feelings for Armin were always resting in the back of your head coming to the surface when you were alone in your room with your hand between your thighs in your panties and a pillow pressed to your face to block your moans.

You’ve been doing that for quite a while as you’ve wanted Armin for years.

Since his junior year and your sophomore when you two landed in the same mixed gym class, he had his blonde bob and wore glasses during that time but you still wanted him. That one class when some loser let his hand slip and hit you in the face with a dodgeball; Armin was helping you to your feet with his hand accidentally cupping your ass which he, of course, apologized for but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

You wanted to tell him that so badly but of course there was Eren ruining everything after he got done yelling at that loser for hitting you. For the first time ever, eren decided to be a good big brother and not let Zeke fill that role instead and take you to the nurse when all you wanted was for Armin to take you there. You thought you’d get him to take you another way if he did but of course, Eren had to be a cock-block even when you both got back to class.

“Ah is she okay!?” Armin asked loudly as he rushed over to you and Eren as you both walked through the gymnasium doors with you holding a paper towel to your nose that was just running with blood in hopes that it wouldn’t continue its rapid flow. Eren took his arm from around your shoulders as he hummed “Yeah, she’s okay. It’s not broken or anything.” Armin let out a relieved sigh at your brother's words as he pushed his rectangle-framed glasses up while you shamelessly stared at him in his gym uniform that seemed a little too tight for him. You could see his scrawny body with little to no muscle (he’s working on it okay!) through his shirt.

Armin made eye contact with you “That’s good, thought we’d have to call Zeke to get you.” He said sweetly which made a smile appear on your face but it quickly fell at the sound of your brother’s voice “Yeah, thought I’d have to get Ymir and beat the hell out of that guy.” Ugh, he was annoying. Eren knew he couldn’t kick anyone's ass even if he had Superman’s powers and yet he was still saying he would.

Of course, Armin looked at him concerningly but said nothing and shook his head before turning to you once more “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He told you comfortingly as he embraced you into a hug with his hands resting on your lower back, you wished that they went even lower like they did before but what he whispered next into your ear really made you want that “Don’t tell Eren about earlier, ‘kay? He’d be so mad.”

He said it like he meant to put his hands on your ass which contradicted his previous apology and it riled you up and made your childhood crush really blossom and now…you had finally gotten your chance to act out all those fantasies and thoughts you had due to his words and piss Eren off at the same time. It’s like a dream come true!

So when you were getting ready to go to Armin's dorm on college campus for your study session that was hopefully going to turn into more, you made sure to put on the cutest black lace thong with a matching bra that was practically see-through, you could see the darkness of your nipples showing through the fabric before you put on your skimpy top and tight-fitting shorts.

Falsies fluttered constantly as you looked through them peering up at Armin’s dorm door waiting for him to come and open the door for you and his study session. You perked up at the sound of the door unlocking before it opened revealing the blonde already staring at you but his gaze turned confused very quickly and you knew why.

You looked stupid, didn’t you? Here for a study session and yet there was nothing in your hands, no books, no pencil, nothing. Everything you needed was in the pockets of your shorts, your phone, and of course a condom. “Hi Armin, can I come in?” You questioned looking him up and down, he was wearing the white tee and grey sweatpants combo that almost made you drop to your knees while foaming at the mouth clawing at the waistband of his pants in the middle of this hallway.

His blue eyes drifted down to your boobs that were practically out of your shirt but quickly returned to your face that had gained a promiscuous smirk at the drifting of his gaze “Uh y-yeah, sure.” Armin stammered shaking his head seemingly to snap himself out of a trance that your body put him in. He moved out of the way and let you walk inside the dorm room that he shared with Bertholdt but clearly, the male wasn’t here which would make this all the easier for you “So what do you need help with exactly, you didn’t bring anything?” Armin asked his voice less nervous than it was before as he closed the door and leaned against it while his eyes followed your body as you sat on the edge of his neatly-done bed kicking your shoes off.

You blinked your falsies at him as you leaned back on your palms “A lot, I just thought I’d watch you y’know…do some of the work.” You replied making sure to purse your glossy lips out a bit with your words as you gazed at the blonde that was inching closer to you “I think it’s easier if I watch someone like you do it.” It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t very good at science and Armin was but you were playing it up a little bit. Like you needed him…well you did just not in the way you were telling him.

Armin nervously crept over to his desk that had his PC and everything on it which was sometimes used to play video games loudly with Eren, Connie, and Jean but its main use was for school work “What do you mean?” He asked as you stood up grabbed a chair from Bertholdt’s side of the room and sat down right next to Armin who was glancing down at your cleavage and your thighs, and who knows what he was looking at when your back was turned. You never took Armin for a perv but you weren’t hating the idea of that.

“I mean smart people, eren’s useless so he can’t help me and Mikasa never has time. She’s always with Eren in his room.” You blabber watching as Armin’s blue eyes were focused on his computer screen which was now showing the science homework you two had and you saw all his little glimpses toward you and your chest but you didn’t say anything and sat there all pretty like you had no clue what he was doing. When for the first time ever you knew.

Whenever Armin talked about things he liked such as the ocean, ‘nerd stuff’, and whatnot, you were the only one who really listened. Like actually listened to the point when he referenced something from previous conversations, you were the only one who remembered every single thing. It was a miracle that no one knew about your crush, well no one cared to say anything because if pretty much any of the guys knew, they’d definitely say something and laugh at you for doing something so stupid that would make Eren murder someone.

Armin’s cheeks turned pink at the mention of Eren and Mikasa's private relations “What about the times he’s not?” You merely shook your head at his question as you watched him solve the science problems easily “It’s still easier to watch you. You’re smarter than Eren.” You said wrapping your arms around Armin’s and leaning against him snuggling your head into his shoulder and you felt Armin tense up at this action but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, (n/n),” Armin said with a sheepish smile as he glanced down at you before back at the computer screen. You placed your other hand on his thigh not wanting to waste any time here because Bertholdt could be back any minute, you didn’t even know where he was but you just didn’t want him to come back anytime soon.

A whimper let out from Armin’s lips as you began to rub his thigh gently moving your hand up closer to his crotch but only subtly though he could tell. Armin could tell anytime you touched him compared to someone else's no matter where you put your hands. Your hands were gentle when they touched him almost like you were scared to touch him. You weren’t.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible and savored every touch you got with him, you were definitely going to savor this night even if it was just a one-time thing “You’ve always been smart Armin…I thought it was cute.” You muttered softly as you looked up at the male who was already looking down at you nervously, his expression was so cute! His flushed face, his nervous gaze, and how he was nearly sweating just by your hand on his thigh.

“I still do y’know.” Your hand trailed up to the waistband of his sweatpants but you didn’t do anything but sink your fingertips past them just pulling them away from his skin and letting it slap back against his soft pale flesh. His skinny hand came down and placed itself on top of yours stopping you as you felt warmness overtake your skin “We–...We shouldn’t do this (n/n).” The blonde male said as he looked down at you like he was scared but he was obviously enjoying it with the movement you felt coming from his sweatpants.

The clacking of his keyboard had stopped and it was now silent in the room “Do you not want to?” You asked slowly drawing your hand away but his hand which was just resting on top of yours now had a tight hold on yours and was holding it in place which startled you, it was a drastic change from how gentle he always was with just his hand on yours.

Armin looked away as if he was ashamed of his actions “I just think Eren would be mad.” You knew that was coming soon, Armin was a lot of things, and stupid was definitely not one of them, not even a little bit and you knew he’d catch onto what you were trying to do and tell you something about Eren and blah blah blah but you obviously didn’t care much for that, only what he really wanted to do.

With his hold on your hand, it’s obvious he didn’t want you to go anywhere but you still had to make sure “But do you want to?” You questioned again ignoring his previous statement about your brother and how he might disapprove of it. Eren was a dick and if he wanted to play that card, you could too. You could be a dick by riding his best friend’s.

Armin stared down at you for a while thinking about what he should say and what it would mean if he said something “Yes but–” With that, your fingers went back to his waistband but this time you were gently pulling them down but not completely yet, just teasingly “...what if eren finds out? He’ll be so mad at me.” Armin continued saying those words he said in high school but a bit differently and the context behind it was very different and not just a small accident.

You glanced down at the band of his Nike Pros before looking back up at him through your lashes “I don’t care. Why do you? You want it right?” Armin was quick to nod at your question making a smile stretch across your glossy lips as you ran the tip of your finger over the Nike Logo on his boxers “Yeah…I guess he doesn’t have to find out, right?” Armin said leaning back in his chair his eyes locked on your fingers just wanting them to inch closer to his crotch nearly bitting into the softness of his pink bottom lip that was almost the same color as the apples of his cheeks that showed his enjoyment and flustered feeling.

You shook your head not breaking eye contact with him “I won’t say anything.” You said seductively allowing your hands to slip past the waistband of his boxers and into the small bush of his blonde pubes before lowering it further to his cock.

Armin’s back arched slightly as he felt your hands wrap around him “I w-won’t say anything either.” He sputtered out as you moved your hand up and down while remaining eye contact with him, god you were such a bitch. Keeping eye contact with him while slowly jerking him off knowing it’d make him more embarrassed and completely bricked.

You leaned up releasing your hold on his arm and pressing a kiss to his lips that were letting out small whimpers and grunts. It grew sloppy very fast with Armin being eager. His hips were bucking up into your hand and his hands were just by his side not knowing where to go or what to touch, maybe your wrist? Your waist? Your shoulder? Or should he just keep them where they were? His mind was full of just you and only you that he couldn’t even think straight and you hadn’t even really begun to do anything yet.

You moaned into his mouth as he did the same before gently pulling away with a thin string of saliva connecting you two, your lip gloss was now on his lips and even around it, you could only imagine what it looked like on your lips now. Armin watched as your head tilted down to the movement you were causing in the confinements of his pants before you looked right back at him tilting your head curiously.

“Can I?” Armin wasn’t sure exactly what you were asking here but he had an idea so he nodded ferociously but when your hand left his pants, he got confused.

When he saw you beginning to take off your panties and shorts in one go, that’s when he caught on and began to do the same. He lifted his hips to slide off his grey sweatpants and then his all-black Nike Pros allowing both of the clothing articles to pool at his ankles as he sat there awkwardly waiting for you.

You grinned up at Armin before transferring yourself to his lap using it as a chair but you were just hovering over him now with your knees on each side of him supporting your body as you lined him up with your dripping cunt.

Armin’s hands instinctively went to your waist as you rested on his shoulders. The male stared up at you as you carefully perfected the lineup to make sure he didn’t miss the hole, he’d wanted you for the longest and he finally was going to get you. I mean, this wasn’t how he was planning on it going down, he was going to ask you out and then you guys would get to this part but this was okay too. It was great actually because he didn’t know if he could wait until you two started to date to get some of you. He definitely could not but good thing you’re a slut right?

A loud moan left your mouth as you slowly lowered yourself onto Armin’s cock making him throw his head back while he leaned back in his chair.

His back arched as you fully sunk, his legs spread allowing you to bottom out as you let out a whimper at Armin’s nails digging into the bare flesh of your hips harshly surely leaving indents there “Are you okay?” Armin asked as he managed to open his eyes and look at you reaching up one of his hands to cup your cheek carefully.

That’s one of the things you loved most about him. He was always thinking about other people. You were sure Armin was losing his mind right now by the way he was scarcely thrusting up into you and the grunts in between his words and yet he was still making sure you were okay when you were way more than okay. Nearly losing yourself in how full you felt but you were still feeling amazing.

You nodded your head as you smiled at him “Of course. Are you?” Armin nodded silently at your question taking in the warmth of being inside you and how tight you were, squeezing him every other second. You began to play with his hair slicking it back and running your fingers through it making a mess of the beautiful blonde locks. You wish you’d been able to do this when he had his long hair but this was just as enjoyable.

Armin leaned in for a kiss again which you happily obliged to. The kiss started sweet and soft as your hands went to his neck holding onto him for support as you began to grind on him rubbing your thighs against his which made the brutal feeling of his nails piercing into your skin grow. You and Armin's tongues fought for dominance with it quickly ending with Armin taking control, you’d like to say you let him but you didn’t. He won the battle and got a little rougher with his win.

He kissed you harsher as he pulled you closer to his body. Armin lifted you taking you by surprise before slamming you back down on him making you shout into the kiss and biting down onto Armin’s lip “Sorry…” You muttered as you broke the kiss watching as Armin touched his bottom lip which was bleeding a bit before looking down at the tip of his finger “It’s fine. Just keep going, baby.” You couldn’t even think of a response and just continued your grinding but this time you were bouncing a bit closing your eyes as you moaned.

Armin’s hand snuck up your shirt and under your bra squeezing your boob roughly as he went and buried his face in your neck kissing and sucking on you, covering the bare skin with purple marks some darker than others. His nails released their hold on your skin and his hand trailed down to your butt harshly groping it as he bit down on your neck smearing the blood of his lip all over your neck.

“Fuck.” You cursed getting quicker with your pace as you fucked yourself on his cock while whimpering like a slut. It’s a little crazy how Armin was just the one that was whimpering a second ago but now you were and he was the cause.

You never pictured Armin as a rough lover. In your fantasies, he was always so gentle, so calm, his fingers softly trailing over your skin as he whispered comforting words into your ears. Nothing like how he was in reality, biting you, covering you in hickies, creating indents in your skin from how rough he was grabbing you.

You weren’t necessarily complaining, it just took you by surprise and you didn’t know how to react other than with your moans of delight “So pretty. You put this on for me?” Armin asked as he backed away from your neck leaning right back in his chair as he lifted your shirt revealing the lacy bra, you didn’t even say anything and just nodded rapidly while continuing to moan “Was for me to take off or look at ‘cus...I don’t know which one I wanna do.” The blonde cooed looking up at you as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You’ve never really seen Armin look at you like that, you’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. His eyes lidded damn nere closed, lust in his eyes, a smirk on his face and it seemed as if the blue of his eyes were more noticeable than usual. They were practically glowing as they traveled up and down your half-naked body.

“I don’t know…” You blabbered. You couldn’t even remember what you put the bra on for if it was just for him to look at or if it was for him to take it off too. You just wanted to look pretty for him and didn’t think that far ahead into what he would do “C’mon baby…you gotta know.” Armin whispered slapping a hand on your ass and making you jolt up earning a small whimper from him.

If you didn’t know before, you definitely don’t know now with how he was talking to you “W-Which ever you want.” You sputtered out as you slowed down your movements trying to compose yourself your eyes shutting close again.

Armin hummed in delight at your words “Really? I think I’m gonna keep it on you. Makes ‘em look so pretty.” He spoke lowly running one of his fingers over the pattern of the lace, his eyes locked on your boobs less ashamed now. You nodded and hummed as you sat still on him getting more sensitive by the moment just from him being inside of you.

The male’s blue eyes drifted down to where you two were connected and looked back up at you “Baby, you’re gorgeous and I love you but I’m gonna need you to move a little faster f’me.” Armin cooed smiling up at you. It’s not like you were going fast exactly before you stopped but something was better than nothing even if he wanted much more.

You smiled brightly and opened your eyes peering down at him “I love you too Armin.” The blonde let out a laugh and his smile widened. It was no surprise that you only paid attention to that part of his sentence, it looked like there was nothing in that head of yours anymore “You need me to take control? You can just lay there and look pretty, I don’t mind.” He said sweetly tilting his head slightly making his blonde hair sway and it made him look even more pretty.

No matter how much he cut his hair, his golden locks were always so silky especially when they moved in the slightest tilt of his head or the small blow of the wind “No, I-I got it.” You said placing your hands on his chest before beginning to move once more but this time you weren’t grinding with the addition of small bouncing, you were going up and down making slapping sounds echo off the off-white walls with wet sounds following it.

Groans escaped Armin’s throat with some slips of whimpers and whines as he threw his head back, hands gripping your ass as if his life depended on it while your tits bounced in the lacy fabric in his face. Armin’s blue eyes stayed focused on you and didn’t close once, he wanted to keep looking at you and how pretty you looked with your mouth wide open letting out pornographic sounds.

Armin had never admitted it to anyone in the world but he always thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He believed it when he was young and still believed it.

Even though he hadn’t told anyone about it, a few people caught on when he was younger maybe in his elementary or middle school years? He didn’t quite remember but what he did remember was when Eren came to him during their math class and told him about how obvious his feelings for you were. Armin was so embarrassed when that happened and a little devastated by what Eren said but he did it anyway because that was his best friend and he’d do anything for him.

But looking back at that, he was sure he only agreed to that because Eren was his only friend and he was very much a pushover.

“Armin, I know you like my sister.” Eren had told him when sitting down on the empty desk beside the blonde’s with a straight face. Armin’s face went pale and his eyes widened in shock at that moment not knowing what to say as he was just doing long division a second ago.

He dropped his #2 pencil on the worksheet and pushed his glasses up “Don’t lie. I always see you looking at her.” Eren said narrowing his eyes at his friend practically sensing that guilty excuses of denial were soon going to start pouring out of his friend’s mouth “Sorry eren…She’s just…very pretty.” The long-haired boy muttered as he began fumbling with his fingers while looking at his lap refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

Eren sighed as he dropped his head understanding how he was probably making his friend very nervous “I know. I can’t keep those stupid soccer boys away from her.” He grumbled remembering all the times he’s literally had to jump in front of you with his arms in the air yelling for them to back away from his little sister. He didn’t think you were old enough to be dating even though he’s had his fair share of five-day relationships. Eren would use that excuse for you until you were in the eighth grade and would then lay out a list of guys you shouldn’t date because ‘they’re the worst guys ever’ which consisted of soccer guys, basketball guys, and Jean. Jean was the only specific name on there.

Armin glanced up at his friend still nervous as he shuffled in his seat “Look, I don’t care if you like her or anything but don’t date her! I’d love to have you as a brother but she’s super annoying, you deserve better than her.” Eren said with a small pout on his lips making Armin laugh but the blue-eyed boy nodded while agreeing with the conditions “Okay eren. I won’t date her.”

It was stupid how he told Eren that but continued to like you after all this time. Armin was sure that the ‘deserved better than her’ reason had worn off now and was replaced by something like ‘It’s just so gross’ and Armin understood where Eren was coming from now. He and Eren had kissed two times at two separate parties both times with them being basically blackout drunk and of course, you didn’t know, no one knew and that’s the way both of them wanted it to stay, and Eren seeing him start dating his sister after all of that would be very weird for Eren and Armin. Armin still wanted to date you regardless though but was still considering how Eren would feel about it.

But who said he couldn’t fuck you? Eren didn’t have to know about that and if he did find out, it’d just be something to ease him into accepting Armin dating you.

Plus, it’s not like Armin cared very much about what Eren felt now that he was six inches deep inside of the warmth of your soaking cunt.

“Ughn! Shit, you feel so good.” Armin whined loudly as he squeezed his eyes closed feeling a tightness in his stomach but he quickly snapped them back open reminding himself of the beauty in front of him who was quite literally doing all the work to make him and herself feel good. Shit, by the way, you were fucking yourself out, he wouldn’t have cared if you wanted to peg the shit outta him.

The pleasure both of you felt was soon interrupted by a loud ringing of someone’s phone. You opened your eyes and turned your head around slowing the bouncing and resorting to grinding which made Armin hate phones “Who is it?” He asked though it came out as a whine with his heavy breathing. You saw his phone glowing and ringing on the desk which his PC sat on and you squinted trying to see the contact name through the growing tears of pleasure and when you saw it your eyes widened and you let out a whine of frustration.

It was Eren. Stupid Eren being a cockblock once again.

Yeah, you did this whole thing to get back at Eren and take advantage of your anger against your brother to finally do what you’ve wanted to for a while but if he called, you were going to stop. Having your brother listen to you fucking his best friend was disgusting. His finding out about it was a whole other thing and now in the state of mind you were from this dick that made you dumb, you didn’t really care too much about if he’d find out at all.

Fuck, this wasn’t even about getting back at Eren anymore. This was about feeling your desire and your need for the blonde.

“S’ eren…” You muttered turning back to Armin with a saddened look on your face and his eyes widened too seemingly snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in. He took his hand off the flesh of your ass and went to reach for his phone with his hand trembling from the pleasure he was still receiving from your small movements but you placed one of your hands on the desk in front of the phone before he could grab it.

You shook your head as you sped up the pace lifting yourself up and down once more “Don’t get it.” You pleaded looking down at Armin hoping to persuade him to just ignore the call and he didn’t say anything and just stared back at you. He broke eye contact and looked behind you seeing the phone and sighed. He knew Eren was just going to keep calling until he eventually got the idea that he was not going to answer the phone and he’d definitely get scolded for not picking up.

Fuck it. It’s whatever.

“Fine.” The Arlert male said looking back up at you and you smiled slightly before picking up the pace making Armin’s calm manner quickly disappear and back into his little whines and deep groans “Fuck, you killing me.” Armin said with a groan his hand gripping the edge of the desk and his other digging his short nails into your ass once again remaking the marks that had faded.

You leaned down and began placing sloppy kisses onto the fair-colored skin of his neck and he gave you full access with his head being thrown back. Your body pressed further against his with your boobs pressing against his hard chest making you moan onto his neck from the feeling of your sensitive nipples pressing against him.

You could feel yourself inching closer and closer to a release with every second and every bounce. You were falling more in love with Armin as his pretty groans and whimpers filled the silence along with yours, he was so sweet, so gentle yet still so rough but it was the perfect balance.

That balance was pleasurable enough but the sound of your moans mixing with his was like the most perfect lemonade to ever exist. Sweet and Sour, the sour was his occasional deep groans after the sweetness of his whimpers had run out.

Your back arched as you let out a loud whine letting go and cumming all over his cock biting down on his neck as your toes curled.

However, Armin hadn’t cum and he was not done. Not one bit. His other hand came back to your ass and he continued to bounce you up and down even after you had stopped to catch your breath “Sorry…just need this s’bad!” Armin apologized with his voice wavering. You weren’t really sure what he was apologizing for exactly, maybe the increase in roughness? Maybe the sudden force? It didn’t matter because you didn’t care. He was just helping you ride out your orgasm. Well, the rest of it.

Soon you felt his warm seed sputtering inside of you and filling you all up, it seemed endless until it stopped “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Armin asked through his deep breaths, his chest rising and falling under your sweaty palm as you retracted your face from the crook of his neck to look at him breathing just as heavy as he was.

You shook your head lightly “No, m’ okay…” You whispered as you tried to catch your breath and Armin nodded at your answer.

His hands went to your hips much gentler than they were before almost as if you were fine china and it was the first time he was using you and in a way, it was. He lifted you from his limp cock with ease and allowed you to stand to your feet but your legs and feet had fallen asleep by now, it’d be pretty hard to walk home now “What are you doing?” Armin asked as he saw you bending over to grab the clothes you had discarded while he pulled up his Nike Pros but kicked the sweatpants off.

You looked at him not really knowing what to say and just shrugged your shoulders “Can’t leave yet, I still gotta clean you up.” Armin said standing to his feet and swooping you into his arms not asking you or giving you any heads-up so you sat there being carried confused as to what he was doing.

“I just do that myself when I get home.” You said as the blonde carried you to the bathroom kicking open the cracked door before waddling over to the tub “Why? It’s the least I can do, you were practically doing all the work.” Armin said laughing awkwardly as he set you inside the porcelain tub being careful before reaching over and letting you take the remainder of your clothing off before turning on the faucet letting the warm water flow into the tub and onto your feet.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that you had your more than fair share of horrible boyfriends but not everyone in the world knew. Armin and a few of you two’s other friends knew because either you told them or Eren blabbed his mouth to them about every time you’d complain to him about some stupid guy and that’s the reason why Armin knew about almost everything.

Since the ninth grade, he’d heard from Eren about all the horrible guys you’ve dated who played you, lied, cheated, yelled, even left you stranded at a party and all Armin wished was that you found a guy that actually found the sweetness and greatness in you. He wished more than anything that it would be him.

He dreamed about all the things he’d do for you, to you, and with you, that’d put a smile on your face. All the things you’d deserve that he’d give you even if it nearly killed him.

He wanted that more than ever right now as he looked at you relaxing in the hot water that was filling up the tub very fast. He reached his hand into the tub and grabbed yours holding it comfortingly and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles which made your eyes open and dart to him “I love you (y/n).” Armin spoke softly leaning his cheek against the side of his tub never looking away from you with his light-colored eyelashes fluttering with minor blinks and it seemed as if he was trying to stop blinking so he wouldn’t waste a single second looking away from you.

“I love you too Armin.” You said with a kind smile on your face as you squeezed his hand with his cheeks turning red from your words. Your smile slowly turned from kind to mischievous as your pure thoughts changed to the complete opposite realizing you were naked.

You lifted your foot out of the tub and rested it on the edge which drew the blonde’s attention “Y’know armin…I didn’t learn much from your study session.” You whispered looking back up at Armin who very quickly caught onto what you were trying to say and got incredibly embarrassed “Come on, you’re the one that called it that…” He muttered lifting his head from the side of the tub as he looked away from you his cheeks burning a bright red.

That was true, you were the one who called it that but you both didn’t even attempt to get down to the science. Got down and dirty before Armin could even get to the beginning of the science work “Yeah but I hope we get another one, I actually wanna learn somethin’.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you placed your other leg on the other side of the tub spreading them.

Armin’s eyes were locked on your wet legs as water dripped in droplets from your calves, he wondered if his cum was still there or if it had washed out into the water “What next? Seems like you got biology down pretty good.” He said meeting your eyes again with a smile on his face that matched yours.

“Maybe neuroscience. I can teach you stuff too like what makes girls happy.” Armin almost laughed at how you were referring to serotonin but clearly forgot what it was called, he would’ve if he didn’t watch how the drops of water rolled down your tits to your areolas and down to your tummy.

Armin brought his hand to your leg and rubbed it up and down making you bite down into your lip “I think I know what makes girls happy.” He said his hand growing closer to your crotch moving down to your inner thigh and the ache in your cunt returned practically pulsing as you watched the way he looked at you. Seemed he realized the way you were squeezing around nothing.

You tilted your head as you looked at him sinking deeper into the warm water “Really? What makes me happy then?” You questioned with a whine slipping out with each inch Armin’s hand came closer and his smirk widened as the glowing in his eyes returned as if he was some sort of predator getting ready to pounce and eat you alive.

“Me.”

#torasplanet.ᐟ #eren yeager #marls-fics.ᐟ #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot college au #armin arlert fluff #so sappyyy #can u tell when i got sad halfway through writing this #◛⑅·˚armin;p

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eomayas · 29 days

Text

silent night • wjh

pairing: non-idol!husband!jun x wife!reader, established relationship, parents

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! fluff

synopsis: jun wants you, but he needs you to be quiet

warnings: p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, mild breeding kink, slight choking, jun sorta mean!

a/n: unedited (ofc) also been so obsessed with jun lately i had this thought lsdt night and had to finish. hope u enjoy!! if the smut is bad sorry i haven’t written smut in a long time

jun leans against the wall that connects the living room and kitchen, and watches you dance with your daughter, a small smile on his face. she’s been hyper all day, not even taking a nap like she normally does, so you’ve been trying to tire her out for the last ten minutes. it doesn’t seem to be working all that well, since she’s still bouncing around the living room to the mariah carey song you have playing on the TV.

“cmon, baby, shake it off,” you say to your daughter, bouncing on the balls of your feet and shaking out your hands, urging your daughter to parrot your actions. she pants out a giggle and copies you, and you take her mild tiredness as a small victory. you’re starting to get tired yourself, but you’re not going to give up until she starts—it’s probably not wise to have this silent bet with a four year old, but something has to give.

your daughter copies whatever you do, giggling and calling you silly when bounce up and down and kick your legs out. “okay, now spin, spin, spin!” you say, twirling around on your toes. you catch jun staring at you, a sweet smile on his face and your heart swells. you didn’t notice the kitchen sink turn off and the clanging of dishes stop completely.

shooting him a smile, you keep spinning until you get dizzy, catching your balance against the sofa. “woah,” you huff, a light chuckle escaping your lips. you notice your daughter starting to wobble and swoop in to catch her before she falls. “whoops! slow down, baby girl!” you laugh, stilling her small body. she looks up at you and laughs, her cheeks red.

“that was fun, mommy!” you push her hair out of her face and start gently fanning her.

“yeah, it was, baby. but mommy is tired now,” she pokes her bottom lip out at you and you feign a dramatic sigh. “i know, i know. but we have to rest so we can do it again tomorrow!” you try, glancing up at jun.

“mommy needs her energy to keep dancing, princess,” your husband chimes in. your daughter looks back at him, looks at you, and nods.

“okay, mommy. you promise we’ll do it again?” she asks as you lift her up into your arms, tucking her onto your hip.

nodding, you promise and kiss her on the forehead before passing her to jun. your daughter lets out a small yawn and you and jun exchange a look of relief, both extremely worn out from chasing after her all day. she woke up with more energy than the two of you have probably had in your entire lives, bursting through your bedroom and jumping into bed, hardly giving either of you enough time to recuperate.

“ready for bed, sweetie?” jun asks her, carrying her up the stairs to her bedroom. you turn off the tv and the rest of the lights before following after them. he’s tucking her into bed when you get upstairs, grateful for the fact that she was already changed into her pajamas. “goodnight, princess. we love you.” jun kisses her on the forehead and you do the same thing.

she yawns again, muttering out an “i love you” back to the two of you. jun shuts off the lights and closes the door, letting out a sigh of relief once it’s latched.

“my god,” he whispers, making the two of you giggle as you step into your bedroom. he shuts the door softly and you yawn, stretching your arms above your head. jun wraps an arm around you, pulling your back into his front.

“let’s go to bed,” you say, bringing a hand up and gently rubbing his cheek when he rests his chin on your shoulder. he kisses your neck once, twice, and by the third time you understand what he’s getting at. “jun, i’m tired.” you all but whine. but his hands rubbing across your bare legs exposed by your shorts is making you shift in his grip.

“you don’t have to do anything,” he mumbles, lightly nipping at your neck. you sigh through your nose and tilt your head to the side. “let me do all the work.” he adds, skating one of his hands across the waistband of your shorts. you pull your bottom lip in, squirming when he presses his crotch against your ass.

“fine,” you breathe, looking at him over your shoulder. he straightens up and places his mouth on yours, giving you a hot kiss before guiding your towards the bed and pushing you down onto the mattress.

“try to keep quiet, yeah?” he says as he pulls down your shorts and underwear, leaving you in a big tshirt. you rest on your forearms and spread your legs for him when he sinks down onto his knees. he kisses your inner thighs teasingly and you suck your teeth in annoyance, rolling your eyes at his games.

“hurry up,” you say impatiently, making him glare at you. “please.” you add, giving him a sweet smile so he finally eats you the way you like and want.

“such a good girl,” he says mockingly before putting his head in between your legs and licking up your slit and in between your folds. you let out a small gasp and open your legs wider for him, mouth falling open. he licks and sucks on anything his mouth is able to get a hold of. juns fingers grip onto your thighs tightly, though he drags one hand down to rub at your clit while he tongues your hole.

falling onto your back, you slap a hand over your mouth so quiet your moans. your eyes screw shut and your toes curl at his ministrations. he eats you like you didn’t just cook him dinner less than an hour ago, like he hasn’t had anything to eat all day and you were his one and only option. it has you seeing spots and your brain being devoid of any coherent thoughts.

a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach and you arch your back off the bed, your head thrown back in pleasure. you let out a loud cry from behind your hand and jun cuts his eyes at you but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. “j-jun,” you pant, dropping your hand from your mouth.

“i know, be quiet,” he mumbles from between your legs, the vibrations of his voice making you clench around nothing.

“i-im tr-trying,” you whimper. jun pulls his mouth away from your core and you whimper when his face is mere inches from yours.

“baby,” he says condescendingly, one hand bracing himself on the bed and the other resting on the side of your face. “you need to be quiet.” he smooshes your cheeks together, holding your chin in his palm. “i’ll let you cum if you can be good and quiet for me, okay?” the sarcastic smile he punctuates the end of his sentence with makes you press your knees together underneath him. “you understand me?”

“i un- ah ah,” he tsks, cutting you off and raising his eyebrows. “can’t follow directions, can we?” he asks with a sigh, letting go of you face and and dropping his hand down to cup your warm heat. you suck in an anticipatory breath, wanting him to touch you again.

jun outside of the bedroom versus jun in the bedroom were two completely different men. your loving husband who would do anything for you and your daughter is unrecognizable compared to the man hovering above you and holding your orgasm over your head.

you press your lips together, holding back any more comments so he can get back to eating you out and bringing you over the edge. jun smirks down at you and runs his middle finger through your slick core, brushing it over you clit teasingly. he watched your facial expressions intensely, revels in the way you bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. jun toys with you, dipping a finger into your hole and slowly pushing in and out. it’s not enough for you in the slightest, but he wants to see how good you can be for him.

jun adds as second finger and and you lick your lips, looking down to watch his fingers move in and out of you. you let out silent breaths, face screwed up in concentration to keep yourself silent. he presses his thumb against your clit and you let out a quiet whimper from the back of your throat, your eyes immediately flying up to look at your husband. instead of reprimanding you, jun presses a kiss to your mouth and speeds up him fingering you.

his mouth on yours quiets your breathy moans that you can’t help. his thumb rubbing against your clit as his scissors his fingers inside of you is enough to bring you close to the edge again. you clench around his fingers and in and instant he pulls his mouth off of yours and places it back in between your legs.

you thrash above him on the bed, thighs trying to close in around his head. jun uses his broad shoulders to keep your legs open and wide for him, giving him enough space to keep on eating you out. your hips buck up into his face, his nose bumping against your clit and you grab a pillow and throw it over your face, letting out the screams that you’ve been holding back.

arousal coats juns face, and he tries to lick all of it up, practically eating you out through your orgasm. your legs shake and fall limp against his shoulders. jun comes out from between your legs and pull the pillow off of your face. “look at me, baby,” he says softly, pushing up your shirt and gently stroking your stomach. your eyes flutter open and he gives you a small smile. “there she is.”

“i love you,” you say, your voice weak and tired. jun smiles that boxy smile that you love, and the sweet look on his face is so distant from the man from less than 10 minutes ago.

“and i love you,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “now turn around.” he says, gripping your hips and starting to flip you over. you whine noncommittally and bring yourself up onto your knees. jun places a pillow underneath you anyway, and pulls off his pants and shirt, leaving him bare.

you feel the bed dip behind you and jun places his hands on your ass, softly rubbing circles before gripping onto your hips. he’d slap your ass if not for the echo that would occur and probably wake up your daughter across the hall.

“you ready, baby?” he asks, his dick hard and heavy against your ass. you nod and he smiles, lining himself up and pushing the head in. he clenches his teeth as you clench around him, trying to suck him in deeper. he pushes in deeper, stilling his hips when you let out a squeak. “what is it?” he asks, leaning over your back to press a soft kiss to your neck.

“n-nothing, keep going,” you reach back and grip onto his leg, trying to push him into you. jun lets out a small chuckle and pushes in a few more inches, not quite bottoming out. he starts fucking into you slowly, trying to minimize any sounds of skin on skin, but it’s not enough for either of you. you quietly urge for him to go faster, to give you more, and he speeds up a little bit but still not where you want him at. “jun, cmon.” you whine, pushing your hips back into him.

“i don’t want her to wake up,” he grunts, grabbing onto your bun and yanking your head back. you huff and let him fuck into you slowly, rolling your eyes at his slow hips.

“jun, i wanna see you,” you say, crawling away from him and flipping onto you back, sitting up slightly to take off your shirt. he pushes his hair off of his forhead and grabs your left leg, placing it on his shoulder.

your husband pushes into you once again, bottoming out quickly and making you let out of a breath of bliss. “yeah, right there,” you say softly, sucking in a gasp and closing your eyes tightly when he speeds up his thrusts. “j-jun!” you mewl, fists balling up the sheets. jun places a heavy hand on your throat, lightly squeezing to shut you up.

“quiet,” he says through gritted teeth, hips slamming against your own. he can get both of you to your highs quickly if he disregards the noise, but he’s too worried about waking up your child.

you place a hand between the two of you and start rubbing on your clit, using some of your arousal as lubricant. “fuck,” he grunts, snapping his hips into you and nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. he pounds into you harshly, his pelvic bone bumping into your clit and making you withdraw your hand. “need you to come again, y/n.” he leans down and kisses on your neck, the hand that was previously on your neck now gripping onto your hip.

jun yanks you down to meet his thrusts, his rhythm becoming sloppier by the second as he feels close to his white hot release. “b-baby,” you cry out, putting a hand over your mouth once again. you lift your hips to meet his, whining to punctuate each of his thrusts.

“f-fuck, y/n, i-im not g-gonna l-last,” he moans out, a whimper leaving his lips and hitting you right in the core. you clench around him and he lets out a shudder of a breath, the rhythm completely lost from his strokes.

“g-give it to me,” you pant, tangling a hand in his hair.

“i’m g-gonna fill you up,” he chokes out, teeth clenched.

“gonna give me another baby?” your voice in his ear makes him spit out a choked moan of your name as he releases into you. his hips don’t still, trying to fuck as much cum into you to make your words true.

you rub at your clit again, bucking your hips up to chase the release that feels so close. despite him reaching his release, he still manages to give you a few more powerful thrusts and thus another orgasm, though this one not as powerful as the first.

jun collapses onto the bed next to you, a heavy arm draped across your midsection. your stroke his forearm and smile to yourself, feeling full of him and love, and exceptionally spent. “jun,” you start, but he sits up and waves you off.

“a towel, i know, i know,” he says, stretching his arms and going into the en-suite bathroom to grab a rag. he comes back and cleans you up, kissing you on the lips afterwards. you’re practically half asleep when he taps you to give you pajamas.

“thanks, love,” you mumble, redressing yourself. he kisses you again and crawls into bed, pulling you into his chest once you’re dressed. you fall asleep easily, partly because you’re completely worn out and partly because you’re tucked safely and softly into his arms.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #svt imagines #moon junhui #wen junhui #jun x reader #jun x you #wen junhui smut #moon junhui smut #junhui smut #junhui x reader #junhui x you #jun smut #jun fluff #junhui fluff #seventeen imagines

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spiteless-xo · 7 months

Note

Hii if it’s not too late can I request 198 with Eren 🫣? Hope you’re having a lovely day by the way :)

thank you for the request!! 🥰 i'm having a great day, i hope you are too!!

i’ve been struggling with so much writers block recently so apologies for taking so long to get to your request!!

list of prompts ⋆ masterlist

╰┈➤ smut prompts - 198. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”

ft. eren/fem!reader cw. unedited, not proofread, established relationship, joke usage of the name "daddy", distracted driving, explicit sexual content (road head, blowjob, choking, face-fucking, cum swallowing), explicit language. 2,045 words.

meeting eren’s parents went better than you were expecting.

after he had spent months telling you about how overbearing his mother was and how rude his father was, you were expecting the worst. but then eren brought you to meet them and you realized that they were just... normal parents.

“you should call your mom more often,” you scold, closing the door behind you as you settle into the front seat of his car. “she’s really sweet.”

“i can’t believe you’re siding with her,” eren groans, thumbing the ignition before looking over at you with a pout. “she treats me like a little kid.”

“you act like a little kid when you’re with her,” you tease. you reach up to pinch his cheeks and his brows furrow in annoyance but you watch a small smile form on his face.

“i’m glad you like them.”

“i’m glad they like me.”

he laughs, reaching across the centre console to squeeze your leg. “of course they like you.”

he shifts his hand to the backrest of your seat as he twists his body backward, slowly backing out of his parents’ driveway and onto the road. you relax back into your seat, settling yourself in for a long ride back.

“are you sure you don’t just want to stay the night?” you ask for the hundredth time tonight.

“i’d rather be at home,” eren responds.

you roll your eyes before letting them fall shut as eren turns up the music slightly in the car. "it's such a long drive and it's already so late," you whine.

"go to sleep, princess," he coos. despite his sweet words, you know he's teasing you. "let daddy take you home while you rest, ok?"

"you gonna carry me inside when i fall asleep in the car, too?" you ask, cracking an eye open to peek at him.

"fuck that," he snorts, but you know he will.

---

you wake up from your nap to the sound of eren humming along to the song playing in the car. you groan a little as you start to rouse, blinking your eyes open and looking to the dash for the time.

"still got a ways to go," eren explains, tapping his index finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. "go back to sleep."

you audibly pout, shifting a little in your seat as you turn to face him.

you're still shaking the sleepy haze from your mind as you blink up at your boyfriend.

your boyfriend! even after all this time, you can hardly believe that you and eren are together.

what started as friendly teasing in class quickly turned to making out in the library when you two were supposed to be studying, cheering him on in the stands at every one of his games, and him keeping a few of your favourite stuffed toys at his house.

you smile at the memories, biting your lip as you look at him. his eyes are focused on the road and his face is lightly illuminated by the streetlights as you pass them.

you look at the slope of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw, and the little whisps of hair at the back of his neck that he missed when he tied his hair up.

"hey, that tickles," he whines, scrunching his ear against his shoulder as you reach out to touch the hair.

"whoops," you say, still dreamy. "sorry."

he glances over at you from the corner of his eye before quickly returning his attention to the road. "what's with the face? what are you thinking about?"

"us."

"what about us?" he sounds a little worried, so you answer quickly.

"i was just thinking about the start of our relationship," you explain. "thinking about how cute we were in the beginning."

"and now you've met my parents," he snorts, but he's biting back a smile. "who knew."

"who knew," you repeat wistfully, gently scratching his bicep with your nails.

he swats you hand away with a grumble. "cut it out, i'm trying to concentrate," he says and you frown.

"there's nobody for miles."

"i still need to pay attention to the road."

"when's the last time you saw another car?"

"dunno," he says with a lazy shrug.

you glance out the front window to see the dark road and then shift to look out the back window. there doesn't seem to be anyone out of the road tonight, but that isn't surprising. the drive out to eren's parent's house is relatively secluded and you and eren live together on the outside of town.

you figure that you'll probably go this whole drive without seeing another person.

the thought sparks an idea into your head that has you grinning wildly.

"what?" eren groans, noticing your obvious excitement despite his attention being on the road.

"nothing," you coo, but you're shifting in your seat to fully face him.

he glances at you from the corner of his eye, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as he eyes you carefully.

you run a tongue across your lower lip before leaning forward over the centre console of the car, pressing your palm onto his thigh.

"what are you doing?" he asks, body oddly still -- tense.

you gently start to run your hand up and down his thigh, inching your hand higher and higher to the crotch of his pants, and when you finally palm at his cock, he responds with a low groan.

"we're not gonna be home for another hour," he says, but his thighs fall open to give you more space and you can feel him hardening under your touch.

"that's ok," you hum, stroking him gently through his jeans as you feel his cock lengthening and stiffening from your actions. it makes you giddy to know that you have such an effect on him.

"i can't concentrate with a boner."

"i'll help."

"you'll -- what?"

his annoyance quickly turns to bewilderment as you reach for his belt with both hands, gently unclasping the buckle before working on undoing his pants.

"what are you -- oh fuck."

you can hear the leather of the steering wheel move against his palms when you pull his cock from his pants, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as you squeeze his length in your hands.

eren shifts in his seat, giving you more access and accidentally lurching the car forward as his foot presses on the gas, but he quickly pulls himself back under control.

"what are you doing?" he asks through clenched teeth as you pump your fist along his cock.

he's already so hard and dripping precum and the feeling of him throbbing against your hand is making you press your thighs together in your seat.

"i've never given you road head before," you say.

"no," he gulps, "you haven't."

"thought i'd give it a shot."

"holy fuck," he groans, reaching out with one hand to grab the back of your neck as you position yourself better in your seat. "that's really fucking hot."

he squeezes the nape of your neck in his hand as you loom over his lap, mouth-watering already as you imagine the feeling of him on your tongue.

you lick your lips in anticipation, watching him leak onto your hand as his hips buck up into your hand. he's already so eager -- so impatient.

"i never thought i'd ever hear you say something like that," he groans, guiding your face down into his lap. "come on -- fuck -- don't make me wait."

you press your tongue flat against the head of his cock, and with your face in his lap, you can only hear the way his head slams back into the headrest of his seat. his reaction makes you smile as you lap at his slit, cleaning off the spilled precum and swirling your tongue around the tip.

eren urges you lower and you wrap your lips around him. he groans from deep in his chest as you envelop him in the warm wetness of your mouth. you gently suck on his tip, feeling another salty bead of precum as you start to bob softly along the ridge of his cock.

"fuck," he hisses, and he sounds so wrecked already that you're a little bit concerned about his ability to drive the car -- but with how he's already acting, you know this will be over soon.

"come on, baby -- more, more," he whines, hips bucking up off the seat, and you have to press a firm hand on his thigh to hold him down. as you do, he uses his grip on your neck to guide you up and down along his length, sinking your mouth further onto his cock.

eren's hand shifts from your neck to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and using it to help guide you along his length. he groans above you, forcing you down onto his cock as you choke around him.

"fuck, that's it," he grunts as you spill drool down the sides of his dick. "make it nice and messy, baby -- show me how bad you want it."

you take him fully into your throat with your nose pressed into his skin as you swallow his length. he's so big and thick in your throat as your body tries to resist it, choking and coughing around him despite how he holds you down.

with a throaty groan he pulls you off of him completely. you gasp for air as his cock springs from you mouth, trailing strings of spit between the two of you as you feel burning in your eyes.

you grab the base of his cock, guiding him back towards you as you take him into his mouth again and he stutters out your name.

you feel both of his hands cradling the back of your head as his hips buck up into your face, roughly fucking your throat as he chases his high.

"come on, yeah," he grunts as his cock slides against your tongue. "fuck, you're gonna make me cum -- come on, baby -- take it."

he holds you down in his lap, cock buried down your throat as he cums. you can feel each pulse and twitch of his cock as he spills cum down your throat and you struggle to hold yourself back from choking as your eyes water.

when his grip relaxes, you lift up in a panic, looking around the car, "eren!" you yell, expecting to see the car hurtling forward into a ditch, but then you quickly realize that the vehicle is parked.

eren is still in a daze from his orgasm, panting as he lies collapsed against the chair, his arm thrown across his forehead. "what?" he hums.

"when did you pull over?"

"dunno," he says unhelpfully and you frown.

you wipe away the mess on your face with your hands -- the tears, the cum, the spit -- and take another look around at the empty road. there's still nobody in sight.

with a dramatic sigh, eren brings his hands back into his lap, tucking himself back into his underwear as he rolls his tongue against his cheek. "fuck, babe -- that was something."

you roll your eyes when he grins at you, bringing a hand up to grab your face. "my turn?" he asks.

"we've gotta get home," you remind him, but you're squirming in your seat to help sate the throbbing between your thighs.

"i can drive with one hand," he coos as you sit back in your chair.

he shifts the car back into drive and pulls back onto the road from where he parked, picking up speed with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

"spread your legs for me, baby," he says, inching his hand up and under your dress. "let's see how many times i can make you cum before we get home."

he takes a moment to glance over at you with a shit-eating grin as he says, "aren't you glad we didn't stay at my parent's?"

"please don't talk about your parents when you have your fingers inside of me, eren."

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