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sweetvixen1996 · 1 year ago

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Mafia Boys & Gifts As Manipulation

Okay so I need somewhere else to exorcise my Kinnporsche brain rot, and I guess that’s you fine people. So I submit my thesis of this post:

In episode 7, we see Vegas, Kinn, & Kim all give a gift as a way to manipulate the recipient.

One of the writers (who are trash people) are very smart to do is to echo certain beats with characters through their action to hammer a point home. A good example is Kinn kissing a drunk Porsche at the end of E3 and then sleeping with a drugged Porsche at the end of E4 -both acts of physical... attraction performed while Porsche is unable to fully consent but the latter having far more serious consequences.

The manipulative gift giving in E7 really hammers home that Vegas, Kinn, & Kim really are FAR MORE ALIKE than any of them would like to think. But its all about lenses.

So lets look at it:

Vegas:

Let's start with the most obvious example, shall we?

Vegas spends this entire episode pseudo-courting Porsche. Both to mess with Kinn, and to get a competent man in the Minor Family’s control (likely under his father’s orders), Vegas is going to use what he knows of Porsche to win him over. Including this gorgeous bike. Vegas explicitly frames Porsche getting the bike as a reward for a job goes well. That, by its very nature, makes it not truly a gift. Instead its payment, a carrot dangled above Porsche's head. Also, on top of Vegas just knowing that Porsche likes motorcycles, I think this serves as a reminder of their little motorcycle ride date back from E5 when Vegas was around to (seemingly) provide comfort when Kinn was not. Basically, Vegas is saying, “Look what I can give you, look at how much fun we can have together, and look at how well I know you but you just got to do this one thing for me and you can have all of it.”

For the record, I do think Vegas genuinely likes Porsche, and is probably physically attracted to him. Everything he does in this episode and beyond is absolutely a power play, with Porsche just being another piece on the chess board in the game of domination Vegas is constantly trying to play with Kinn, but, unlike his thin veiled contempt for Tawan, Vegas seems to truly enjoy spending time around Porsche. I always think back to that hug they shared and how Vegas just sort of melted into it. It’s hard to fake that sort of react.

Maybe in a different life, they could have been actual friends.

In hindsight, I do wonder how much about the bodyguards all being happy and Vegas caring about them is a show and how much of it is real. Vegas definitely wants to frame life at the Minor Family as a better alternative to serving the Major Family, but we also know that Vegas is not incapable of caring about the people around him. In fact, he’s something he desperately wants to be good at.

On a side note, we also get the case of Vegas giving the pork skewer to Pete. It's a small thing, and probably also manipulation, but with how important food becomes in their relationship, I think it's worth noting.

Kinn:

I almost hesitate to call this manipulation, because this moment is really just so sweet. So instead I'll discuss how Vegas uses the bike as a reward while Kinn uses his favorite gun as an excuse. For these two knuckleheads, E7 is a transitional period. E6 had them admitting for their attraction and affection for each other, and the Side Story had them cementing that what they had in the woods isn't going away, but E7 here is them trying to figure out what this new dynamic means and how it can exist back in the “real world.”

Kinn is not ready to say “I love you” verbally to Porsche yet. He cannot fully put his trust in Porsche just yet. After everything with Taiwan, and just well his entire life, all the jealousy and insecurity and possessiveness is coming out in full force. Not to mention, Kinn is stuck at home recovering from his injuries, likely making him feel useless. Plus, he has to at least have a suspicion that Vegas was the one who drugged and took Porsche back in E4 -on top of actively plotting to take Porsche away now.

Yet Kinn also knows he needs to be careful. Even if he can't say those things, he knows he at least needs to give something up or risk Porsche pulling away. Specifically, pulling towards Vegas. So he gives Porsche’ his gun, the one Kinn always keeps on him. It's Kinn’s way of saying, “even if I can't be with you in person, this gun is my way of being with you in spirit.”

Then he tells Porsche that Porsche has to come back so he can return Kinn’s gun. Now this is a fun little gray area, because Kinn IS able to say Porsche needs to come back to him -not why, mind you, he’s not their yet. But Kinn is trying his best. Unlike Vegas, who views Porsche as part of a game, Ken sees Porsche as the prize at the end of the game. The only thing that matters. The thing Kinn wants to get above all, no matter what he has to sacrifice.

I love this whole interaction because it just runs the gauntlet of emotions. It's sweet, it's sappy, it's funny, it's flirty, and it's a little tense. Overall, it's a good example of both Kinn’s own emotional limitations, and Kinn trying his damnedest to show how he feels since he's not great at putting things into words. And if that involves a little manipulation, well there are probably worse things in the world.

Also I think it is really funny that this entire scene and the situation with the gun is very reminiscent of the concept of the Lady’s Favor. That being where noble women would give Knights a personal token, usually a handkerchief or a ribbon, when they went off to do something dangerous as both a token of their affections and to make the Knight promise to come back. The promise, of course being so that the Knight would stay safe, and so the Knight would have an excuse to visit their Lady again.

Kim:

The Kimchay relationship is interesting because it somehow manages to be both the most wholesome while also being the most duplicitous. One of the things that makes all three of the major couples in this series interesting (or controversial, depending on who you ask) is that there is a very clear uneven power dynamic. Kinn is Porsche’s boss and a mafia leader, and Vegas literally has Pete chained up in his house -you can't get much more even than that. And yet, both of them are in a situation in which the power dynamic difference is obvious. That's not the case with Kimchay. While it's true that there is the obvious unbalance of the Idol/Fan dynamic, and the age gap being jussssst wide enough that Kim and Chay are at different points in their developmental adult life, the real power dynamic difference comes from the fact that this entire relationship is built flat on a lie. It is a lie that Kim himself eventually comes to love and wish was true, but not one that could have ever been sustained.

There are a lot of really great metas out there about how Kim is actually the most dangerous of his brothers, and is far more willing to coldly manipulate and act for his goal, and you see a lot of that these early interactions with Chay.

At this point, I think it's safe to say that while Kim may think Chay is cute and sweet, and is charmed by him despite himself, Chay is still just a means to the end within his investigation. He's also completely aware a Chay’s infatuation with him and is using that to get through the door of Chay’s life and house -quite literally.

If the motorcycle was a reward from Vegas, and the gun was an excuse from Kinn, I'd say that Kim is using the guitar as almost a form of payment. A way of further buying Chay's trust and good nature. He may have even specifically brought it as a way to override Chay questioning why Kim knew where he lived.

And yet it's also important to point out that this episode is a turning point in their relationship, just like it is for KinnPorsche. Before this, Chay was a tool, if a very charming one. Kim doesn't even really have the patience with him to wait for Chay to finish talking and expressing his doubt about accepting the guitar before asking to use the bathroom. Not to mention further taking advantage of Chay’s feelings for him in order to get Chay out of the house so Kim could investigate the Mysterious Locked Room.

But then Kim finds the Idol Wall, and everything changes. I am 100% convinced that is the moment where Kim not only knows that Chay has nothing to do with any potential mafia dirty business, but also when Kim starts feeling some guilt over his manipulation of Chay. Both of which should make him immediately back off, and we see in the next episode that that is sort of what he does, but his initial response is instead to engage further -even outright flirting with the implicit promise of further contact with the two, even though it actually doesn't have any merit at this point.

Basically, this is when Chay starts to become REAL to Kim.

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #kimchay #kinn theerapanyakul #porschay kittisawasd #vegas theerapanyakul #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kinnporsche analysis #this is my brain dump #sorry if it doesn't make sense #bring on the piles of red flags disguised of handsome men #and the messy bitches who love them #not chay though #he is a sweet sunshine child #even if he wouldn't know a red flag if it was strangling him

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m1dnyt3-w0lf · 10 months ago

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Chapter 2: Settling In

Word count: 3,350

Ch 1

I awaken to sunlight in my eyes, making the back of my eyelids burn red. I blink my eyes open, squinting against the bright sunlight peeking through the white blinds on the window. I take in a long, deep breath as I sit up in bed. I rub my eyes and look around. The room I was in was completely bare, save for the bed I laid on, the pillow and blanket I was using, and my duffle bag that lay on the floor by the bed. Was this my room? When did I walk into the apartment?

How the hell did I get here? I think as I start to slip off the bed. I feel the cold wood floor against my socks and shiver. At least I was still in last night's clothes. The cold floor was something I needed to get used to, though. I quickly start to dig into my bag, grab my chanclas, and slip them on.

Better. I sigh in relief and go to take the first step when there's a knock at my door. I let out a yell and jumped backward, almost falling back onto my bed in the process.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I was checking to see if you were awake." Miguel's voice came, muffled and soft by the door. I take a moment to calm my beating heart before walking over and opening the door. How tall was he?!

Motherfucker is taller than the damn doorway! I saw his jaw twitch but thought nothing of it.

"Uh, no, it's fine. How…how did I get to bed last night? I don't remember." I ask him, looking back towards my tousled bed.

"I carried you up."

"You…what?"

"I carried you up. You were sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you." He said simply, moving away from the door and down the hall. "Breakfast is ready if you're hungry."

I hurried after him, closing my room door after me. Not that it mattered much right now, anyway. It's not like I had things to hide from him.

"Wait, what? Hold on, backtrack there, sir." This made him halt and look at me with a small hint of surprise on his face. I halted as well, not even realizing the term I had used. "What do you mean you carried me? You could have woken me up, surely, I must've weighed too much."

Ah, there it is, the insecurity. Will I ever be free from you? I think bitterly. I made sure my emotions stayed clear from my face, however. I watched Miguel's gaze soften for a moment.

Maybe a trick of the light?

"Of course you don't. You weighed like nothing." He said, reassurance in his tone. I gave him a skeptical look.

"You're lying to me." I knew he had to be lying. He raised an eyebrow, unamused. Seemed to be his signature look, didn't it?

"Are you really doubting me? You said it yourself last night, I look like a gym rat." Damn bastard, throwing that in my face.

"Well…looking like one and being one are two different things."

"That so?"

"Y-yeah." Miguel was nothing but a flash in my eyes. I screamed as he swiftly scooped me off my feet and carried me with no falter in his step to the kitchen. He then sat me on a chair and set a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage links in front of me with a smaller plate of pancakes. I blink, dumbfounded and overwhelmed by the act and the smell of food.

"Eat." He commanded, and I had no choice but to pick up the fork he handed me and slowly eat away at the food in front of me. My eyes watched him as he moved back to the stove and started to serve himself, piling a lot on his plate. He sat and started eating as well. His breathing never once labored or faltered. It was silent for a few clicks until I swallowed my bite and spoke.

"Do I weigh anything to you?" I asked quietly, embarrassment coloring my cheeks. Miguel simply smirked and shrugged.

"Not a thing." I pressed my lips together and went back to eating in silence. It was…weird. I've never been carried by anyone other than my dad when I was younger. Then, here comes Miguel, carrying me like I weigh nothing more than a kitten. I tried not to delve into how that made me feel.

I take my phone out of my pocket and pull up Google. I needed to start my job search. I pulled up a map of the area, taking note of the nearby stores. I distractedly shove food into my mouth, eyes glued to my phone as I planned my route for the day.

I can start with that sandwich shop two blocks from here. Then I can move to the convenience store across the street, and it looks like there's a gas station two blocks away from those. Maybe I can stop by that antique shop and-oh, is that a bakery?

"Okay," Miguel started, irritation deeply set into his voice. I froze and looked at him, my egg-filled fork halted mid-air as my mouth hung open to take the bite.

"We should probably set ground rules and other things." Miguel said, glaring at me. I set my fork down and met his eye.

"Uh, okay?"

"We'll take turns on setting a rule, and we'll discuss it. If we both agree on the rule, we'll set it in."

"Sounds fair. Care to go first since it was your idea?" I nod to him, setting my phone down and giving him my full attention. He seemed to sit up straighter when my eyes went from my phone to him. Weird.

"First of all, no electronics during meals." I knew I looked offended.

"No electronics?"

"Yes, no electronics."

"Why?"

"In today's day and age, we stare at screens all day. A meal should be enjoyed without a distraction." He said simply. I cross my arms and lean back in my chair.

"That's a load of bs. I don't agree with that rule."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous! It's just a phone!" I tried to reason.

"If it's just a phone, then you shouldn't be so bothered by the rule." He sassed. I narrowed my eyes on him.

"What's next, you're going to say no food in the room?"

"Not a bad rule."

"No!" He chuckled softly at my state. I huffed, rubbing my eyes with a groan.

"Okay, okay, fine. No electronics during meals." I glare at him in defeat. He looked back with a hint of pride. Oh, how I wanted to wipe that look off his face.

"What's your suggestion?" He asked. I took a moment to think.

“No set chores. We see something that needs to be done, and we'll do it. No taking turns, no ‘this chore is mine, this chore is yours.’” I told him. It was a method I remembered a friend and her roommate used, and she had told me it worked well. Miguel leaned back and raised an eyebrow.

“That so?” He asked. I nodded, doubling down.

“Indeed.” Miguel only shrugged.

“Very well.”

And we continued like that. We took turns setting rules and agreeing or disagreeing with said rules. Some we trashed, others we compromised, most we agreed on. Though, I had to admit, it felt like some of the rules were stupid. Miguel got his ‘no food in the rooms�� rule, but in return, I had my ‘no guests without approval’ rule. I could tell in his eyes that he thought my rule was idiotic, but I found it necessary. The last thing I wanted was to exit my room in pajamas just to walk into a kitchen with a stranger.

He had added an ‘always knock’ rule and a ‘dim lighting’ rule. Now the knocking I agreed to, but the dim lighting was very weird and was definitely in call for an explanation.

“Dim lighting? What do you mean?” I asked, pushing my now empty plate aside. Miguel peered at me over his nearly empty glass of milk. Somehow, this simple act of drinking milk reminded me a lot of my dad. He did like to drink a tall glass of milk no matter what time of day it was. I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat caused by the sudden hit of homesickness.

Miguel seemed to be turning over my words. His dark eyes bore into my own blue ones. The hand holding his glass gently swirled the milk in it. I could see the wheels turning in his head as his face remained expressionless. Anxiety began to build up in my gut and make me squirm. I began to twist my fingers together and direct my eyes away from his stare. As soon as I did, I noticed him move in my peripheral and quickly looked back at him. I was shocked to see him moving with my gaze.

What is his deal? I wondered as nerves and anxiety ate me from the inside-out. I gulped and cleared my throat before speaking.

“Miguel, you don-”

“I have sensitive eyes.” He interrupted. I blinked, shocked to have received an answer. He waited for a few moments before speaking again.

“Bright lights hurt my eyes, which is why you'll find the lights on the lowest setting and blackout curtains on every window save your room.” He started with a lazy wave of his glass. My eyes flicked at the movement, then back up at him. I let his words roll around my mind. Sensitive eyes were nothing new to me. Hell, my own dad had sensitive eyes as well. He wore sunglasses whenever he was out during the day.

“That makes sense. I'll be sure to grab some blackout curtains for my room as well.” He seemed to be taken aback by that.

“You don't have to.”

“Oh but I want to. Besides, I like my darkness.” I say with a shrug. What I thought to be a look of gratitude washed over Miguel's features.

“Thank you.” He lifted his glass to me slightly before downing the rest of his milk. I couldn't help but chuckle.

“No problem, really.” I gave him a smile, one that he returned with a light tilt of the corner of his mouth. I opened my mouth to speak when, suddenly, a Ding! noise filled the room. Miguel's face hardened immediately as his eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his…what the fuck is that? The band of what I assumed was a watch was nothing but a solid metal band wrapping around his wrist with that singular square screen that glowed and blinked a neon orange color.

I couldn't help but stare as Miguel tapped the orange LED screen to stop the noise and blinking light. Miguel got up and placed his dishes in the sink, giving them a quick rinse before moving out of the kitchen.

“I'll wash those when I get back, work calls for me.”

“Oh, okay.” I say absent-mindedly. I was still trying to wrap my head around the watch. Miguel paused at the kitchen entrance and turned to look at me.

“Do you need a ride anywhere?” He asked. This caused my brain to finally jumpstart and get those wheels turning.

“Oh! Uh, no, thank you. I'll be fine. Besides, I need to learn my way around these streets.” Miguel didn't look convinced.

“This is New York, not your Beverly Hills red carpet.” I scoffed.

“What makes you think I lived in Beverly Hills?” Miguel gave me a once over before raising a brow. I gave him an offended look. Miguel started to walk away.

“Wait here.” He said. I start to rise from my chair.

“What? Hey, wait a minute you can't just-”

“I said, ‘Wait. Here.’” He commanded, appearing back from around the corner and pointing at the floor. I immediately sat back down at his command, shocking myself in doing so. He watched for a moment before nodding his head and stalking off. His footsteps softly echoed down the hallway, leaving me to my bewilderment.

What the hell just happened? I thought, slowly blinking as I looked at the spot Miguel had left. My cheeks begin to flush with embarrassment as the realization of what happened hit me. Ugh, he probably thinks I'm some kind of weirdo now. I groan and place my head in my hands. How could I react like that? Why did I react like that? Why was I so quick to follow his order? I groaned and placed my head in my hands. This was embarrassing! Within the first twenty-four hours, we had an argument and an awkward interaction.

That bastard probably meant for that to happen. An impulsive thought threw into the pile of many others. I froze as I processed the thought. A scowl began to chase the flush from my cheeks as I whipped my head up and glared where he stood. How dare he?! I cross my arms and begin to tap my fingers on my arm, grumpy as this thought melted into my system.

“Oh, sure, make fun of me just because you think I come from some bougie family, why don't you?! The fucking nerve!” I huff, mumbling under my breath. Eventually I hear Miguel's footsteps and I wait expectantly. He walks back into view, eyes moving from his weird watch to me.

“I've asked a friend to drive you around where you need to go. Her name's Jessica.” He tells me, basically leaving no room for argument. I scoff.

“I don't need a ride, I'm perfectly capable of walking.” Miguel raised a brow.

“Really?” He rumbled lowly, lips barely moving as he spoke. I gulp, feeling my heart take a few extra beats upon hearing his voice.

“Yes.” I say in an unconvincing voice that cracked and made me sound like I squeaked. I cleared my throat but didn't try to convince Miguel any further.

“Fine, I'll drive around with Jessica.” I huff out, looking away.

“Good.” Miguel said with a satisfactory tone. I sigh and look at him again, eyes immediately meeting his again. What's with this guy and eye contact?

“How long until she's here?”

“Five minutes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be getting ready.” He nodded his head and left before I could say a word.

“Alright.” I called out to him, picking up my phone and checking the stores I planned to visit. I chewed my lip. I didn't want to bother someone by making them drive me around when I could easily walk. Maybe just three stores? Or four? No, that would be pushing my luck, surely. I should go for the ones further away, right? I mean, it only makes sense if she's driving me. Then, maybe after she drops me off, I can walk to the closer ones. Miguel wouldn't know the difference. I smile at the plan I made.

I'll show him for thinking I need to be babysat. I can take care of myself. I think triumphantly, bookmarking the places I want to be taken to.

A knock sounds at the door after some time. I called out to Miguel that I had the door as I walked up to it. I open it and smile at the woman standing there. God's, she was gorgeous! She had smooth, richly dark skin; soft, brown eyes; and an afro held back with a red headband. She wore a red and black biker's outfit and sunglasses with bright yellow lenses.

And very much pregnant, oh my gods. I blink in surprise but give her a warm smile. The woman gives me a once over and offers her own warm smile.

“You must be Miguel's new roommate.” She said her voice was strong and confident. She sounded like she was speaking in a soft melody meant to lull someone to sleep. “I'm Jessica.”

“Oh, hi, I'm Ashley.” I say, moving aside to let her in. “Come in!”

“Thank you.” She walks in and picks a comfortable armchair to sit in, letting out a soft, relieved groan.

“Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?” I ask immediately.

“No, no, I'm fine, thank you.” She says with a playful tone and dismissive wave. “I just love this armchair.”

“Okay, well, I'll let Miguel know you're here.”

“Oh, I'm sure he already knows.” Jessica says with a chuckle. I only nod and head down the hallway leading to my room and where I assume his room was as well. I suppose we did talk pretty loudly, but I felt the need to tell him anyway. As I walked down the hall, I looked at the few paintings that lined either wall. They were…odd to say the least. To be fair, I was no renowned artist, but these pieces reeked of chaos and nonsense. I couldn't even call it abstract; they were otherworldly.

I walked up to my room and paused. I looked at the remaining doors down the hall. It occurred to me I was never told where his room was. My eyes went from one closed door to the next as I tried to decide on what to do. There were three more doors, so really, I could be wrong twice. I scowled at the thought. Ugh, imagine being wrong twice? How embarrassing would that be?! He wouldn't let me live it down if his current behavior was any indication. I could already hear the teasing lilt of his annoyingly hot voice.

Whoa, where did that come from? I shake my head to rid myself of the thought. He's my roommate. I shouldn't think of him like that. I quickly changed the course of my train of thought to my current dilemma.

Do I call out his name and hope he hears me? I hesitated. Did I really want to risk Jessica hearing me sound like a doofus? Imagine not knowing your own apartment! Luckily, I only had to debate for a moment more when the decision was made for me. Miguel walked out of the last door down the hall wearing a deep blue, three-piece suit.

Right. Go figure.

However, I barely process the location of his room as I'm floored by just how utterly handsome he is in that suit. The dark color of the fabric brightened the dull brown of his skin and gave him a more lively look. His hair was brushed back, causing his wild curls to be hidden from sight. He looked so different from the way I saw him last night and during breakfast. Curls haywire from bedhead, loose-fitted shirt and pajama bottoms, tired but attentive eyes-

Focus, damn it! Stop staring! And, as if sensing me, Miguel's eyes immediately met mine. A surprised blush colors my cheeks as my eyes widen.

“O-oh, uh, haha, J-J-J-” I start to stutter out. I stop myself and take a deep breath, closing my eyes and turning my head away from Miguel. Gods, I hate this stutter.

“Jessica,” I pronounce slowly before speaking at my usual pace, “is here.” I informed him before looking at him again. Miguel is silent for a beat. Then two. Then three. His expression seemed unreadable, but I swore I saw something processing in that brain of his. Maybe a trick of the light?

Finally, he nods. “Thank you. You should start getting ready.”

I look down at myself, still wearing the clothes I had left California in. Gross.

“Yeah, I'll just be a few.” I tell him, turning to head to my room.

“And Ashley?” He calls out, his deep voice holding that authoritative tone. I pause and look back at him.

“Yeah?”

“No funny business. Jessica will take you where you need to go.” He said pointedly. How…how did he know? I quickly school my features to a small smile and roll my eyes.

“I know, I know. Thanks, dad.” I say the last part sarcastically and enter my room without another word.

Translation

Ch 3

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mochimistress · 1 year ago

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Hi y'all ! I just finished my most recent Steddie fic. If you have any headcanons or requests feel free to drop an ask ! Im always a slut for Steddie

AO3 full fic under the cut

Edith knew she was possessive. Clingy. Jealous.

Crazy, if you asked most guys.

Not that Edith gave a fuck about what they all thought. Not when she finally had him. The man of her dreams. The one who's had her heart for as long as she could remember.

Steve.

Her Stevie.

The beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous man who bridal carried her out of literal hell. Who bulldozed over any doctor unwilling to treat her and threw his father's name around even though he hated the very thought of using that power. Who nursed her back to health and refused to sneak a peek when helping her in and out of the tub (what a wonderful, fucking frustrating thought).

Who got along with her Uncle Wayne, sitting and watching the game with him, sharing a beer and laughing in commiseration.

And the day they finally got together. He'd set up a beautiful picnic in the woods behind his house, path lit up with twinkling fairy lights and her favorite foods laid out on a soft blanket. Steve had even fucking dressed up as her favorite Lord of the Rings man and recited Arwen's vows to her.

How could she not jump his bones then and there? (And what a bone indeed.)

Edith was already planning their wedding, something non-traditional, maybe a ripped up wedding dress, adorned with chains and sparkling blood-red jewels. Steve would look so handsome in a deep red vest and black tie.

(And maybe they were young, but when you almost fucking die for ungrateful small-town assholes, who gives a fuck)

Her Steve never made her feel lesser—like a trailer trash washout everyone said she was. He believed in her, defended her every time. Even bringing out his nail studded bat to deal with Carver's old goons.

With all the love and care and cherishing he gave her, how could Edith ever think about letting him go?

And all the love Steve gave her? She gave back just as much. Supporting him when he needed, when his head hurt too much, became too dark, swirling with negativity that didn't belong in his beautiful head. Stood up for him when the kids took it too far (they had no right to make fun of his grades or how long it may take him to process some stuff when he had literal brain damage-) And the way Steve looked at her every time she did it.

It broke her heart.

He deserved so much more than he'd been given. And Edith would be the one to give it all to him.

And yeah, Edith saw how other women would look at her boyfriend. How they'd try to flirt and bash their pretty little eyes at him.

(Oh, Edith certainly wanted to bash something.)

But Her Stevie never looked their way, never even gave them a passing glance. His eyes were always on Edith, alight with adoration and love (and lust that sent shivers down her spine and heat between her thighs).

And Steve was so fucking sweet all the goddamn time.

Chivalry may be dead, but Steve Harrington was bringing back a revival.

He held doors opened, helped with overflowing books and papers. He even stopped bullies from going after Edith's little sheepies and Robin's band friends. Hell, he'd lend out pencils if he could remember to bring extra (Billy Hargrove was lucky he was fucking dead, and Byers was on thin ice). No, with his soft, floppy hair, down-turned puppy dog eyes, and reformed heart of gold beating in his beautiful hairy chest, it's no wonder that people flocked to him.

So if Edith had to defend what was hers, could anyone really blame her?

Girls knew better than to go near Her Stevie. One wrong look and they'd meet the right side of Edith's combat boots. Because none of them knew Steve like she did (and never would, as long as she was around). They didn't know his dreams. Fears. Didn't sit up with him when the nightmares and paranoia were too much. Didn't know how to help him through his migraines and insecurities. All of them just looking to add Steve Harrington as a notch on their bedposts.

No, they knew to stay away.

Except.

There was always one bitch stupid enough to try, despite Edith's glares and other's warnings.

She (because Edith was not about to waste her time learning some tramp's name) transferred in halfway through the year. A grade below them and pretty, Edith supposed, long beach-blonde hair and a button nose.

With an attitude absolutely worse than dogshit.

She clung to her Stevie, even when Steve asked to not to. Wherever Steve was, she would just... appear. Basketball practice? She'd be in the stands, embarrassing herself with loud cheering. Shift at Family Video? She's leaning against the counter, arms crossed under her chest to push up her boobs.

(As if Steve would look; he'd always made sure Edith knew how much he loved her smaller chest. Perfect to cup in his large hands.

“Besides,” he smirked one night, “they'll have room to grow when I knock you up.”

God, he always knew what to say to get her going.)

No, Edith never needed to worry about Steve doing anything. Her sweet, loyal boyfriend would never.

But she took it too far.

She and Steve had a rare shift together at Family Video (after Keith had turned tail when the “earthquake” hit, and Robin was prompted to manager, it was easy to get herself into one of the gross green vests) when she walked in, trying to flirt and failing miserably. After watching her sad display for a good 10 minutes, Edith was finally able to ring her out, giving her a condescending smile and a fake-cheery “Come again!” when she crossed the line.

She'd leaned over and kissed Steve on the cheek, ignoring the look of utter disbelief and outrage on Steve and Edith's faces respectively. She was gone before Edith could even think about leaping over the counter and dragging her back by her dried up straw hair. Seething, she turned to Steve, and all anger disappeared as she took in her boyfriend's face.

Steve was staring after the bitch, mouth open and eyes wide. Suddenly, his face crumpled and he turned to Edith.

“E-edi,” he choked out, hands waving uselessly. “I-I swear I didn't know she would do that. I don't even like her-I swear I have never-I would never-” Steve's voice cut off, choking on his own unwarranted guilt. He looked seconds away from collapsing to his knees and Edith could see him begin to spiral.

She worked quickly, dragging the panicking man into the breakroom, uncaring of the empty, unattended store, and closed the door. Robin would understand, just as protective of Steve as Edith was (that was her brother, her twin flame after all).

“Stevie,” she said softly, grabbing hold of one of his warm hands and placing it firmly over her heart. “Breathe with me baby, follow my heartbeat.” She took an exaggerated breath, keeping her pulse even. Steve sucked in a breath, eyes closed and trembling. Edith remained calm as her mind rolled with thunder.

How fucking dare she do that to her Stevie. How dare she send him into a panic attack. She had no fucking right to kiss him, to ignore his boundaries-and then to send him spiraling into what he was most afraid of? To try to paint him as some cheater like his pathetic asshole of a father? She felt him let out a whimper.

“It's okay,” she shushed him gently, leaning up to place a kiss on his forehead and tipping his head to rest against her clothed shoulder. Steve's hands gravitated to her waist, where they belonged, and he breathed in her scent deeply. He held her there, grounding himself as she continued to hum reassurances.

Edith settled a hand between his shoulder blades, further leaning him into to her, and the other ran through the short locks at the nape of his neck soothingly (another privilege only she got to have and will ever have). She swayed them slightly side to side, letting the tension and hurt wash away.

“My sweet boy,” Edith cooed, pressing a kiss against the shell of Steve's ear, “I know you'd never do anything like that. You'd never lead anyone on or cheat. I know baby.”

With those final three words, Steve slumped fully, though careful not to put his full weight on her. The tension gone, like a puppet's strings snapping, in an instant.

“I'm sorry,” he said weakly, muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

“None of that darling; it's not your fault.”

No, it wasn't Steve's fault. Never her Stevie.

But Edith knew exactly whose it was.

And she would make her pay.

Edith leaned against the picnic table, cigarette held casually between her fingers. She did all her business here where no one could accidentally stumble upon. Secluded. No witnesses.

Leaves crunched to her right and she tilted her head, hearing the skank's loud footsteps before even seeing her.

“Steve?” She called, stepping into the clearing and stopping short when she caught sight of Edith. Straightening to her full height, Edith stubbed out the butt of her cigarette under her steel-toed boots. She was already tall compared to other girls, boots only adding to her imposing figure. She crossed her arms, looking the other girl up and down, unimpressed. “What are you doing here? Where's Steve?”

“I'm afraid he won't be joining us,” Edith smiled sharply, laughing when she took a step back. She pushed off the table, slowing coming to circle around her, a shark and her prey. “Stevie wasn't the one who called you out here. Hell, he doesn't even know we're out here at all.”

“What do you want?”

“Hm,” Edith huffed, stopping a couple of feet in front of the blonde, “I want a lot of things, but what I want right now-” she chuckled “I want you to stay away.”

“What!?”

“See, you decided to touch and cling and harass someone who very clearly didn't want it. Someone who had turned you down, way too politely in my opinion, and asked to be left alone. Someone who is in a happily committed relationship, who loves his girlfriend very much. Someone who's mine-”

“Ugh,” she scoffed, “you're really that fucking insecure? Steve could do so much better than some trash nobody bitch like y-” her words cut off, choking as the cold metal of Edith's pocket knife pressed against the skin of her neck.

Edith smirked, amused. “You think I give a fuck? So what if you think Steve could do better. He still chose me, and I'm going to hold onto him till my last fucking breath.” She pressed hard enough to get a trembling whimper. “And no snot-nosed pretentious bitch is going to do anything about it. So,” another shiver, “if you know what's good for you, you'll Stay. Away.”

Edith stared her down, dark eyes boring into her tear-filled ones. With a final scoff, she stepped away, blade folding elegantly back into itself.

“Now, be a good little girl and run along. I'm sure there's some dickhead jock just waiting to take you up on playing 'Hide the Sausage' with you.”

She stood frozen for a moment and Edith lunged at her, sending her rushing away, almost tripping over her own feet. Edith nodded, pleased, already planning her date with Her Stevie tonight (maybe a nice diner date with an even nicer dessert back in her ro-).

“Edi?”

Edith felt the air freeze in her lungs.

Steve stood on the other side of the table, face unreadable as his eyes darted between Edith and the direction the other girl went.

“S-steve-I-this is-” Edith swallowed, unsure. “I- what- what are you doing out here?”

“I came by the trailer to surprise you early for our date and Wayne said you were out here on a deal. I came to walk you back.”

“Did-how long were you standing there?”

Steve said nothing, continuing to stare at her.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Edith's breath hitched as her world fell apart.

He saw. He'd seen everything. He saw how she threatened some girl and held her at fucking knife point and now he was going to leave her and-

Lips crashed onto hers (when has Steve even moved-) and stole her breath away. Edith gasped, but quickly melted into the kiss, arms coming up to cling onto his shoulders.

Steve kissed her reverently, a single focused intensity that left Edith lightheaded. One arm around her waist, keeping her crushed against him as his other hand tangled in her unruly hair, almost afraid she would try to push away (as if Edith would her dream of doing that, not when he poured everything he was into her). She moaned, feeling Steve swell in his own pants. God, she could already feel it in her.

Gasping harshly, Edith had to pull away (Fuck the need to breathe, she though angrily), but Steve just moved onto her jaw. Nipping his way down to the spot he knew drove her wild, her knees threatened to buckle if Steve hold wasn't so strong. He gave her no chance of reprieve, sucking, licking, biting down-

“S-steve,” she stammered, pressing closer (not close enough, never close enough)

“I love you,” Steve whispered through a ragged breath into her curve of her neck. “I love you so fucking much Edith. Fuck-” He groaned out the last word, grinding against the heat between her legs. He leaned back up, chasing her lips as she pulled away, and let out a whine.

“Steve.” He tone made him pause, finally looking in her eyes. Confusion and weariness darkened her eyes. “I-you just saw me threaten a girl for-for-”

“For making me uncomfortable? For not taking 'no' for an answer and violating my personal space and boundaries when I've told her repeatedly to stop? For showing how much you love me? How much you'll do to actually keep me?” He growled the last words, giving her another dirty kiss. “God, Edith I-” Inhaling shakily, Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “I-I don't think I've ever been in love with anyone like I am with you. You... you make me feel like I'm actually worth something baby, like the things I say and do are interesting when almost everyone else has only ever made me feel stupid, lesser. No one's ever even fought for me, want me for me. You make me feel like...like I actually matter-”

“You do matter, Stevie.” Edith cupped his cheeks, making Steve open his eyes. They shun with unshed tears, though full of love. It made butterflies burst in Edith's belly. “You mean so fucking much to me. Fuck-you're my everything Steve Harrington. And nothing or no-one is ever going to change that. You. Are. It. For me baby, and all those people that ever made you feel any different are lucky I don't find them and-” She stopped, “well, You've seen what I would do.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed airily, gaze softening into a look Edith had only ever seen directed at her. Full of devotion, as if she had the answers to everything Steve needed. It made Edith dizzy with the realization that Her Stevie's world revolved around her like hers did him.

“We need to go,” Steve said simply, picking up Edith into his arms and she let out a yelped “Steve!” he walked the worn path back to his car swiftly. “Need to get you back to my place baby. Need to show you how much you mean to me,” He whispered into her ear in a deep voice.

“Oh.” A shiver ran down Edith spine, settling into a ball of heat in the pit of her stomach. “w-well, sweetheart, better hurry before I decide to start off early.” She gave a dangerous smirk that Steve matched perfectly.

Edith knew she was possessive. Clingy. Jealous.

Crazy, if you asked most guys.

But. Her Stevie wouldn't have her any other way.

#steddie #stranger things #Lulu writes #might do a smutty chapter 2 not sure yet #fem!Eddie

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starlightsearches · 3 years ago

Note

HC request! I *firmly* believe Eddie boy gets no puss, he talks the talk but gets blushy and flustered when it gets down to business. How would blushy Eddie's first time w someone who is a bit more experienced than he would?

OOOOOOHHHHH, yes, friend! I love every version of Eddie, but bitchless Eddie might be my favorite 💖 (also this is way longer than I thought it would be whoops)

18+ ONLY

Headcanon Prompts

It's not like things haven't been hot and heavy between the two of you before. Eddie's got wandering hands and the need to be close to you all the time. There's been thousands of instances with his rings biting into the skin under your shirt, his thigh between your legs, and always in places you probably shouldn't be—under the bleachers, the back of his van, out in the woods. And right when things were getting a little less PG-13, he'd find some excuse to bail and you always thought he was waiting for the "right moment."

But then you're in his bedroom, and you've got your hands in his hair and your skirt hiked up around your waist and he's got you breathless with so little effort and you're certain that this has to be it.

He's not gonna say it outright, but you can sense his hesitation. Trying to distract you with the promise of food, with weed, saying shit like "Wayne might be coming back soon" when you know his uncle won't be home for hours and eventually you just gotta ask him outright.

And he's blushing so red, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and no matter what kind of tough exterior he tries to put on, you can tell that he's afraid you'll laugh at him. His eyes go wide with surprise when you take his hand in yours, kissing every one of his rings.

"Can I be your first?"

Uh, fuck yeah, you can.

As soon as he's agreed, you're the only audience member for the Eddie Munson comedy hour. He's got no other way to deflect from his insecurities except making jokes. He just doesn't know how to handle the way you touch him with gentle hands, pulling his shirt from off his body, kissing his tattoos, marking bruises on his pale chest until his heart's beating so loud he can't hear anything else.

Eddie's never done well in school, but he's great picking stuff up one on one, especially when he's got your hands guiding him. He watches, wide-eyed, jaw dropped, as you move his hands over your breast, let him pinch and pull at your nipples—single-mindedly trying to get you to make more of those sweet little noises. He follows your lead as you trace a path down your stomach, hand molded to your body until he cups your warm cunt, feels how wet you are, stroking his middle finger down the fabric covering your dripping hole.

He spends the next hour figuring out all the different ways he can make you cum: with three fingers shoved inside you, with his mouth wrapped around your clit. Any sign that you're enjoying what he's doing is music to his ears; the way you tug at his hair and whimper when he does something you like is better than any high.

And then you offer to ride him, and it's like he's dying, feeling so heavenly with his cock buried inside you, his hands on your tits and your lips at his neck. It's clear you feel good too, moaning right in his ear each time you thrust your hips against his and he doesn't understand why he was so afraid of this.

He kisses you hard when he finishes, completely-fucked out and exhilarated. You've hardly come down yourself, petting his sweaty hair out of his eyes and pouring praise from your lips before he's got his fingers at your clit again, ready to make up for all the time he missed.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #minors dni #asks #anons #feel free to send more of these in 💖#i'd love a distraction today :(

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glitchstoxicwaste · 3 years ago

Text

@imbleedin-out

She is amazing! Follow her! So freaking kind and supportive it’s wholesome and could cure depression!!

What would he do?

If you weren’t around, weren’t there to make the most out of life, weren’t there to make him happy for once, what would Bo do?

Slashers | Bo Sinclair

TW: BO BEING SOFT, kinda went off ig?

Continue under the cut!

Every morning would start off with him waking up early, looking over, and seeing your beautiful face right by him. A few minutes every morning if him staring at your features and memorizing every little detail, adoring and loving every aspect of your being without your knowledge. A stray bundle of hair that is slightly in his way of your face is gently tucked behind your ear, he tangles his fingers in the rest of your locks and plays with it, massaging your scalp with a smile plastered on his face. His cold blue eyes scanning everything he can see, admiring your beauty, even if there’s dried or wet saliva trickling down the corner of your lips he still relishes in how gorgeous you are to him.

After a few moments of him simping, he will begrudgingly get out of bed, pulling the covers over you and tucking it under your chin, a kiss to your temple, and a change of his briefs, not to mention the addition to his clothing, and a sprits of his cologne, and he’s heading out the bedroom. He turns around for one more quick glance, and a mini photo shoot of your sleeping self to seal the deal. Off to start his day he goes, your sleeping stature being his new wallpaper.

Every morning he makes coffee, sits at the dining table, reads the news, and drinks his mud. You scramble out of bed and make your way to the kitchen, hair messy, pajamas wrinkled, looking like a disaster.

“Good mornin’ cranky.”

He’d say, without fail, every morning, knowing damn well that he shouldn’t, but hearing you grumble and mumble for him to “shut up” makes his heart clench and cheeks dust pink. He adores you, all of you, every nook and cranny he has and has not seen he knows he loves. When you sit down at the table with your coffee in hand, siping it and planting your face onto the wooded table top, drifting slowly back to sleep, he can’t help but peek around the newspaper and smile, take in every detail once again, and remember it all.

Later when it’s mid-day, he’s working away at the garage, he notices you coming to him with lunch for him, he continues working, and every time he acts the same way just to rule you up a bit.

“Brought more o’ yer slop ya call food?”

He playfully asks, chuckling as you glare and swat his shoulder. Watching you as you head back to the house, loving the way your scent sticks to the air every time you come to him with food, your way of making sure he’s happy and healthy, he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he can’t help but let him think he does even if for a moment. Smiling more as he unwraps the sandwich and, with his oil and grime covered hands, eats the food you made him.

During the evenings, when he just came back from the outside, he goes over to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling your back against him. Your small giggle makes his heart skip a beat, he smiles like an idiot and hides his face in your hair as you make dinner. Chuckling when you elbow his side to get him off you. He kisses your shoulder, neck, and cheek before letting go and going to wash up before you nag at him to do so.

At night, after dinner, your curled up fast asleep in his arms, breathing in a relaxed manner. He shoves his face into your hair once again, breathing in to smell your fresh scent, wanting to remember all of it, all of you, fears pricking him, insecurities piling on top of him, worries and stress, thoughts of horrible possibilities, always there in the back of his mind.

What would he do without you? Without your touch, your voice, your words, your scent, without you?

If you got hurt and had to leave…

Got mad and left forever…

He went to far and you ran away with tears in your eyes…

If visitors escaped and got to you before I could…

If he pushed you away and you stayed away…

Even if you chose his brothers over him…

What would he do?

He knows what he’d do… live on… but inside… a piece of him was gone… broken… dead… you’re irreplaceable and he loves you, more than he is willing to admit to both you and himself, mostly out of fear that he isn’t good enough for you, to make you happy.

He holds you closer, tighter, more secure, in an attempt to remember that you’re there and real, an attempt to ground himself, because even his brothers know, without you, what he would do, is snap completely, and would be left a hollow shell of the man you made him, the better man he could never had been if it wasn’t for you.

He owes you his life, and he refuses to lose his or let you lose yours.

#slasher #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers x y/n #slasher x s/o #slashers x you #slasher fucker #slashers x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x lily

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years ago

Text

Dating Loki Would Include:

It took a long time for him to warm up.

Like a long time

He finally admitted it to himself when you got hurt on a mission

It took everything in him to not blow up the man who hurt you

He stays by your side when he is sick

And when you need something, he either runs to get it or screams at someone else

Late night cuddles

He reads Asgardian books to you since you can’t read runes

You read him Midgard books as long as he doesn’t complain about them

Hand kisses

Neck kisses

Thigh kisses

He basically worships you like a queen

He holds your hands when you walk in heels to steady you

And carries you when they hurt your feet too much

Gets jealous easily when people stare at you

Almost beat up a guy for asking you if you were single

You have to reassure him you only love him

And that he can’t lose you

He likes being little spoon when he’s insecure

But he’s usually big spoon

Actually his favorite cuddle position is when you’re on top of him with your hand on his chest

He likes it because he can completely hold you

But his favorite sex position is him on top

He loves watching you squirm below him

Him having a power kink

Loki using his magic to stimulate you

Mind shattering sex

Him having to convince you to let him use his clones in bed

You not letting him have it… except on special occasions

On your anniversary, he sneaks you into the gardens in Asgard

You have a picnic under the stars with your favorite food

Which he attempted to make

The guard come to get you, but you two run away in delight

Hiding n the woods before heading home

He either gets your big gifts or books

Sometimes you fight over little things

Like the way he talks about people or how you can be too kind

But never going to bed angry

He never wants you angry at him so he gives you time before working things out

But no matter how many or how bad the fights are, you still love him

And he still loves you

The ring in his nightstand proves it

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki preferences #loki x reader #dating loki would include

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meirathinks · 4 years ago

Text

you can tell something that sounds like it

Suguru Geto x reader.

warnings: it’s angst :(( maybe some grammar mistakes?

geto has never lied to you. You tell yourself that he does.

(based off the song happy news for sadness)

╬╬═════════════╬╬

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

At least, that’s what you told yourself. You'd repeat it over and over, the sick mantra failing to provide any sort of comfort. The dread had slithered from the end of your tongue to the base of your throat and finally cemented itself behind your ribcage: snuggly against your heart.

At first, Geto's presence was warm. His fingertips would dance along your jawline after particularly draining missions, butterfly kisses and the soft flutter of your pulse would follow shortly after. You would look at him with so much endearment. Doe eyes casting a hazy look in his direction while he continued to exchange soft touches for attention.

It was springtime; the nights were supposed to be frosted over. But, as your eyesight shifted from the condensation on the window accentuated by the soft glow of the lamp in Suguru's dorm, you noticed that you'd trade anything to forever feel the way you're feeling now. Geto held himself in a unique way, he was strong, but it differed from Gojo's arrogance. Geto was one of the strongest but he hardly paraded that fact; he instead used that fact to make you feel safe.

You hummed against his throat at the thought, Geto is your protector.

He breathed into your forehead pressing phantom kisses into your skin while sitting on his bed with you. You leaned into his chest while recovering from the latest mission, civilians were injured but none were killed. Still, Geto was ashamed that non-sorcerers had to be involved in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

He moved to tug tightly at your hair, urging you to look up at him. His slightly swollen lips parted and shut as if looking for the appropriate thing to say. Geto relented, choosing to ignore the seeds of doubt threatening to be sown.

"You know, I won't let anyone hurt you." His calloused hand moved to squeeze your arm, the condensation dripped down the window.

Suguru is strong. He is your protector.

II.

Geto left. And all that replaced him was the wide-eyed gaze only piteous adults knew. Gentle squeezes on your shoulder and whispering that followed wherever you went.

You were ashamed. His promises that had once left you satisfied had proven to be hollow. His righteousness never wavered.

A voice had tugged at the corner of your mind the day you heard of what had happened in the village. Geto was good, he wanted to see people safe; if you had the chance to confront him you knew he wouldn’t change.

The drip, drip, drip, of your bathroom faucet, prompted you to focus on your reflection above the sink. Hot tears made their way down your cheeks, laboured breaths reverberated in the small space.

Geto would hug you, he'd tell you everything was okay.

Then he'd say he'd protect you.

You smiled at the thought of his domesticity, imagining his hand holding yours, missing the way his thumb would draw circles on the back of your hand.

The faucet continued to drip as you met your own gaze once again.

Dread filled your lungs

Geto killed 100s of people.

Geto always lies.

III.

There was a sharp pound at your door; hollow and calculated. Confusion invaded your senses, today was your day off, no one came to visit you anymore.

Nostalgia racked your body. Back in high school, your dorm was always unlocked, a sort of safe space for your classmates to come and go. Jujutsu tech was a warzone plagued with hopeless violence and your room seemed to be representative of the humanity of your colleagues. Neutral, kind, loving.

Gojo never knocked.

Shoko knocked three times.

And Geto was always four.

Another knock could be heard at your door.

You laughed at yourself for the little piece of hope you had felt. At the fact that you longed to see a murderer again. Maybe it would be Gojo instead? Willfully eating a candy bar while he waited impatiently outside the door of your home.

But Gojo never knocks.

A pounding could be heard at your door once more.

Your spirits lifted— Shoko had come to visit! You had missed her presence and humour, in a way, her spiral was worse than Geto’s. Everyone was convinced that the dark circles under her eyes were going to become a long-term predicament. But, when confronted about her exhaustiveness, a half-drunk Ieiri would always comment on how she was too busy to rest. Nonetheless, Shoko was the only other sorcerer who knew your address.

But no one ever visits.

One more knock.

Your blood ran cold, leaving an icy residue in your veins, your heart was beating in your throat. The absence of the knock hung in the air, your anxiety, your insecurity, your deep-rooted hope that he'd come back to explain had buzzed in its place.

You got up to walk to your door, as your hand lifted to unlock it, you waited.

Just one more. I need to prove it.

Suguru knocked one final time, you opened it as quickly as he expected you would. You wanted him to see the shame that ran deep in your eyes. Though, you hadn't felt the way that you were required to feel as a jujutsu sorcerer.

He met your gaze. You felt your heartbeat hiccup. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt some sort of emotion bubble up at the base of your chest. Fear, disgust, hope.

"It's been 4 years, Geto."

Suguru grinned softly, a shiny film had covered his eyes. He took a gentle breath.

"Have I mentioned how I've thought about you every day for four years?"

IV.

In his final days at Jujutsu Tech, Geto was a shell of himself. Though he'd always eat the food you presented him in an attempt to curb your worries, you knew his appetite ran thin when he was left to his own devices.

Now, as he stood in your home's kitchen expertly cooking dinner for the both of you for what seemed the umpteenth time, you noticed how much he looked like himself. His hair was as gorgeous as ever (though admittedly longer), he still closed his eyes when he smiled, he still ran his thumb against the back of your hand when he held it.

Yet, he seemed so much happier.

At first, this had prompted anger. Someone like him didn't deserve to feel the joy he displayed.

Geto was a criminal, after all.

The hands of a criminal would cup your cheek and run up and down your back. His criminal voice would hum soft tunes to you in between philosophical conversations in the later hours of the night. His criminal eyes would cast the softest, most loving gaze in your direction. Geto's criminal, cold-blooded, self would whisper I love you over and over again into the crook of your neck until he fell asleep.

And you allowed him to.

You allowed him to look at the civilians with a horrifying disgust, one that sharply contrasted with his previous drive to protect everyone. You watched as his endearing expression would turn to a scowl whenever he talked about them. He'd use a distasteful nickname for non-sorcerers.

"Dirty Monkeys."

You had made sure your voice had matched the iciness of his own as you responded, "Don't use that phrase near me again."

He made a clear effort to exclude all ideological rhetoric from your conversations soon after.

The same voice that pestered you that there was still hope for Suguru had turned against him. It was ironic more than anything, the both of you could never win this sick and twisted game.

The slam of a knife against a chopping board had woken you up from your daydream. You looked up. Eyes scanning the figure of the criminal you had come to love. It was an illicit romance, one between a Jujutsu sorcerer and a cursed user. A romance between two people with differing beliefs.

You took a deep breath, the knife on the chopping board slowed as Getou turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile, tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up to his face from your spot on the kitchen counter.

"Suguru," you swallowed, "we were never supposed to last this long, you know."

You watched his throat bob.

"I'm well aware."

You smiled up at him, a genuine one, twinged with melancholy, "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to leave."

He nodded silently inching closer to your sitting figure. His hot breath tickled your face, testing the waters. You didn't know what to expect out of the kiss at this moment Maybe rough? Like the late nights you'd spend together after he practically barrelled through the front door, fuming about the day he had just had. Or passionate? You imagined a kiss with sloppy whispers and late apologies said in between the moments you took to catch your breath.

He grabbed your chin in his pointer finger and thumb, he urged your teary eyes to look into his. His lips met yours and he was not passionate, nor was he rough. You didn't see stars, you only felt him.

Geto was soft.

He pulled away, his eyes avoided your own as he breathed softly while taking in your figure one last time.

A sigh could be heard while he moved to the coat rack near your front door. You continued to sit stupidly on the kitchen counter, watching the abandoned knife and vegetables lay limp against the wood of the chopping board.

You heard the shifting of fabric as Geto maneuvered his coat on, "Call me if you need anything."

Suguru's eyes were downcast as he continued, "I love you."

You felt your throat go dry as it bobbed; Suguru closed the door as softly as he could on his way out.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

You never called him.

Gojo leaned against the wall of the hallways in Jujutsu tech, as he awaited your response.

He quickly grew impatient.

"I said I killed him." You hummed in response, you'd like to imagine that you looked indifferent. You wouldn't let yourself cry, not in front of Gojo, not because of Suguru.

"He had it coming." You willed yourself to say.

As you turned to continue your journey down the hallway, Gojo beckoned you to turn around with a scoff.

"One more thing," He lifted his blindfold to meet your eyes.

"He told me he loved you."

You let out a dry laugh, your fingernails were digging crescents into your palms, "Of course he did."

You walked down the empty hallway, leaving Gojo to his own thoughts. Heavy breaths could be heard as you attempted to calm yourself down. Why would Geto say that?

Then you remembered.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #shoko ieiri #yuji itadori #fushiguro megumi #self indulgent #getou suguru

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ch1giri · 4 years ago

Note

heyy!! I found your blog recently and I really enjoy reading your writings! You’re an amazing writer! I’m really happy to see more Blue Lock content as well! Blue Lock is such an awesome manga and I love it so much! I look forward to more of your works! 💘

Could I also request maybe First Date headcanons with Sae, Rin, Nagi, Chigiri, Reo, Kunigami, Isagi, or any of the Blue Lock boys? Thank you!

Hi anon you are such a sweetheart thank you so much! This made my day (*≧з≦) I apologise for making you wait too long, I hope you'll like it! Also, sorry some of them were much longer than the others

First date headcanons

Characters: Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage, Chigiri Hyoma, Kunigami Rensuke and Isagi Yoichi

Sae Itoshi

• You have to be very special to catch his eye. He doesn't go just for anyone, but you, you're definitely special

• And once he confirms his feelings for you he confidently asks you out. Bonus points if you get flustered a bit, he thinks it's cute that he has that effect on you.

• Once you guys agree to go on a date this boy immediately rearranges his schedule around the date

• He tried suggesting that you two go on your first date in Spain or France. But you politely shut down his idea down, saying that he doesn't need to go overboard for your first date

• So you guys settle for a nice restaurant in Japan, he was a little bummed that he had to stay here but it's with you so he will manage

• Sae is a true gentleman, opens the door for you, pulls you out a chair, compliments you and pays for the meal

• If someone happens to see you two outside on a date tho, rumours will start immediately. But he couldn't give two shits tbh

• He would enjoy listening to your interests, Sae loves watching that spark light up in your eyes he knows the feeling of happiness that rushes through you when you talk about your interests.

• If they do happen to ask him about you on some press conferences he would just say: "Yes I'm currently dating someone, I don't get how is that related to my career."

• After your date, he would drive/walk you home and kiss you on your forehead. And when he comes back home he would have to fight the urge of buying some tickets for a foreign country to take you on your next date.

Rin Itoshi

• Like his brother, Rin seems very cold and calculated. So you have to be super interesting to catch his fancy

• Rin is introverted, so he wouldn't like to go out to some fancy restaurant. So he would take you out to the movies! He enjoys horror films so I feel like he would pick out a really good one

• After movies you guys would get ice cream and walk around, talking about anything and everything

• He would complain about all the lukewarm people he met in blue lock. And he would offer an ear to your complaints.

• He is so cute I swear, Rin is trying so hard to hide the smile that is stubbornly trying to show on his face. He doesn't want to blow his "cool guy" persona yet.

• He would walk you home and you would walk you home, but you would have to be one to initiate something. He wants to hug you, but the poor boy is just super embarrassed.

• When you hug him, or kiss him on the cheek. You can definitely see the red color creeping on his ears. When you two finally part your ways. Rin is letting that simle show, just this time it's much bigger and the pink dusting his cheeks is much more visible. But when he gets back home he puts on his cold facade

• He is not into PDA, so on your next date I feel like you two would walk around with your pinkies intertwined

Nagi Seishiro

• This one is a given, Nagi would totally take you out on an arcade date! He could effortlessly impress you, plus who doesn't love arcades?

• You two would play few intense rounds of air hockey. After the fifth time that you lost he let you win one round, just to see you jump around in victory

• After that you guys played some co op games, Mario Bros, Bubble Bobble and other classic

• Your small rivalry will continue as you guys start playing vs games like Street Fighter, Tekken and Mortal Kombat if you main Kitana you are immediately attractive idc again he will let you win just to see that cute smile on your face

• Please if you have the willpower make him play Taiko or DDR. At first he would be hesitant, because he thinks that it would require so much effort but if you bat your eyelashes he might just fall for your trap

• What can he say it's hard to resist when it comes to you. Surprisingly he is really good at Taiko, which of course earned a compliment from you "You should consider becoming a drummer." please just imagine drummer!Nagi what a concept

• Nagi saw you eyeing one of the toys in the claw machine and he just had to jump at the opportunity. So here you were with two milkshakes in your hands cheering Nagi on

• It took him a while but he got it in the end! He knows that you will treasure it, and the huge smile on your face was totally worth it

• You two walk to your house hand in hand and talk about all the games that you played you leave him with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to beat him fair and square next time

Reo Mikage

• This guy goes all out, like it's unreal how much effort he put in. The second you agreed to go out on a date with him he started planning everything out to the smallest detail

• A limo was waiting outside for you, I mean he did tell you to wear something nice, but you didn't expect this much

• He bought you flowers, he went as far as renting out the whole restaurant. Which is one of the most expensive in town.

• At first you felt kinda awkward, I mean isn't he going a bit too far? He probably spent a lot of money on this. But he reassured you that you deserve to be spoiled

• After some time you get much more comfortable, and you stop caring. You don't feel uncomfortable and out of place because Reo is there, and that's the only thing that matters

• After a very nice dinner made by the best cook in the country. You guys went on top of a tall building and just talked your hearts out, admiring the beautiful navy sky

• The limo took you guys back to your place and you were standing on your doorstep hoping that Reo would do something and he did!

• He kissed you! And you had to hold in a scream of happiness, after he left you ran into your room to let out that happiness by screaming into your pillow

Chigiri Hyoma

• Okay, you two would go on a study date! He feels like that's the best option, it's lowkey and he wouldn't feel as stressed to actually ask you out

• But just because the date seems casual, it doesn't mean he didn't carefully chose the location you two would go to. He checked all the local cafés and what food and drinks they serve

• He would choose the most beautiful café, a beautiful slow melody is bouncing around the room. The whole café was decorated with wood and plants, making it look like a whimsical forest

• You two ordered tea and got two Strawberry Shortcakes, Chigiri and you opened your books, you guys talked a bit about the harder subjects you have to get to eventually

• But as the conversation started to flow, you two kinda forgot about the pile of books you had on the table

• You talked about your favorite writers, and other hobbies you share, the tea was great and so was the Shortcake

• After a long talk, it was time to part your ways. Chigiri walked you home, and you guys just couldn't stop talking about everything and anything

• You didn't want to go and neither did he, so he immediately asked you out on a another date, and of course you were so excited

• When he left he just couldn't stop thinking about you, so he called you and the two of you talked for so long.

• Both of you couldn't wait to see each other again

Kunigami Rensuke

• The two of you would go to an amusement park! Eating delicious, colourful cotton candy as you guys talked about all the ride you want to go on

• Kunigami would win so many games, you would have so many stuffed animals by the end of it

• Like his hands were full and you were carrying two stuffed bears each settled into your hands

• You guys would ride the fastest, highest roller coasters. But if you are afraid of heights, that's okay too. There is a lot of other fun rides and games you can try

• You would go on the teacups and you would ride a carousel giggling like little children throughout all of it

• Kunigami suggested that you should visit the Haunted mansion, everything was fine at first, but then a second jump scare happened and then out of reflex Kunigami hit the poor worker in the head

• When the sun started to fall asleep and the sky splashed with orange gradients. The two of you went to a farriers wheel

• Walking home still laughing about the aftermath of the punch Kunigami accidentally landed and your hands full with the stuffed prizes, he asked you out on a next date

Isagi Yoichi

• Isagi took you out on a picnic! At first he was kinda hesitant to ask you out. He can get really insecure at times and you are just so perfect he thought you were way out of his league

• When you said yes, he was the happiest he ever felt it's the same feeling he gets when he scores a goal

• In an attempt to surprise Isagi, you decided to make some sandwiches

• Isagi had the same idea tho, so when you two met up, both of you were holding baskets full of food earning an angelic laugh from Isagi

• The field looked beautiful, it was filled with flowers and some kids were running around. The two of you sat on a blanket right under a blossoming cherry tree

• Munching on some sandwiches, you talked about anything and everything

• After you stuffed your faces with food, Isagi suggested that you two play football. And you eagerly agreed

• Sure, maybe you aren't the best football player. But seeing the spark that is dancing in his eyes is totally worth running around trying to kick a ball

• To your surprise, you played football for hours laughing and playfully bickering

• And everything was fine until the rain began to fall. Quickly starting to pack your things up, Isagi looked for the shelter

• The two of you ran to safety, never dropping your smiles, your hair and clothes totally wet by now

• Your house was closer so that's where you went. You begged Isagi to stay until the rain stopped. And he oh was he embarrassed, he's never been in a girl's room and now here he is. Changing into some clothes you had laying around while you were making tea for the both of you

• After some time passed, Isagi finally got comfortable and you laughed the whole situation off

• When the rain stopped, it was time for him to go even though you didn't want him to

• He thanked you for the stuff you lent him. Promising to return them on the next date

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lewdbabies · 4 years ago

Text

~My pet~

warning:/ Nsfw, 18+ MDNI, degradation, Choking, raw sex, rough sex, gore, explicit language and content

sukunax reader smut

part 2 is posted on my page enjoy 😉

The sun relentlessly beats down on your exposed flesh above the water, A thick blanket of fog covers the surrounding area making it nearly impossible to see in the distance. You close your eyes sinking deeper into the hot spring allowing it to swallow you all the way up to your neck. Day time baths weren’t a regular reoccurrence of yours, you preferred bathing under the stars under the protection of the night sky. Just The thought of someone catching you NAKED made your face red hot. You were alittle insecure about your body growing up in a village where beauty was The foundation for your future added a lot of pressure onto your self esteem. It was drilled into each and every young woman if their body was not perfection they’d live a sad life with an awful husband. You never let others see how much this bothered you, you held your head up and radiated confidence even if it isn’t how you truly felt.

“-crack-“

A branch. Your head snaps at the sound your arms impulsively reaching for your exposed chest.

“What do we have here” a monstrous voice hisses behind the fog.

Your heart is beating out of your chest, you scramble out of the water grabbing your satin robe from the ground.

“Who are you?!” You stumble backwards deeper into the lush wooded area. Your feet scream in pain with each step.

“No need for introductions, I am here merely for a day time snack” the voice is closer now. You can make out a towering silhouette it’s frame oozing with demonic cursed energy. You spin on your heels ignoring the stabbing pains shooting through you. You run aimlessly desperate for any chance of escape, The curse chases after you with murderous intent destroying all life that stands in its path.

Growing weaker you take refuge behind the nearest tree pulling your knees to your chest and desperately covering your mouth.

“It isn’t polite to play with your food come on out ,my sweet” you here a strained gagging before a foreign red liquid burst from behind striking the tree opposite of you. The tree began to melt and decay instantly turning into a bubbling rotten liquid spilling into the surrounding plant life.

‘If that touches me...I’m dead’ You think to yourself thinking of the best possible plan for survival.

You could stay hidden in hopes he will give up and leave or you could make a run for the temple. As far back as you can remember the elders have always reminded you to never enter the temple. The temple is a forbidden place but no one ever talked about why that is. You’d always wondered what resided in that temple ,you guessed it had to be some sort of demonic entity. Logically speaking big fish eats little fish and if you could lure the curse there you might be able to escape while it is distracted by they mystery monster. It was settled, the plan was reckless stupid even but it was your only option.

You dash forward zigzagging through the trees, you could see the temple right ahead of you so close yet so far.

You begin to yell so loud it feels like your throat is being ripped apart.

“HELP IS ANYONE HERE PLEASE HELP ME PLEAS-“ Burning. Deep excruciating Heat seeps into the entire left side of your body. You’ve been hit. The red liquid bubbles up chewing away at the fabric covering your skin and burrowing itself into your now exposed flesh. You let out a blood curdling screech clawing at the bloody exposed wound.

“I am trying to rest!” A voice booms through the air. You fall to your knees locking eyes with the male figure you can barely make out.

You reach towards the figure whispering “Run” before falling unconscious.

Tap. Tap. Tap. ‘Is someone... pacing?’ You question internally. You’ve been Aware for a while now listening carefully and analyzing each and every sound. So far You’ve been able to make out voices, Female voices Talking amongst themselves gossiping about the ‘mystery woman’ as they changed the water near your bed side. This presence was different it was cold and silent, observing your every movement. Tap. They are coming closer. Tap. Your body tenses. Tap. A shiver runs down your spine. You clench the sheets beneath you praying.

“I can smell your fear...” a rough calloused finger trails your cheek sending a current through your core.

Your eyes dart underneath your closed eyelids tears brimming, you attempt to swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“Speak.” He growls low and deep.

You’re conflicted, You’d have to face him sooner or later playing dead can only last for so long. If he wanted you dead you’d be dead by now.

You peek through your eyelashes, and become face to face with...A man?

With further inspection you notice the strange markings lining his porcelain skin.

His Ivory robe hangs slightly open giving a clear view of the Dark lines decorticating his entire torso. His eyes are locked on you staring menacingly through his strawberry locs. You gaze into his pools of honey drowning in them. Despite the fear deep in your chest blood rushes to your cheeks in an instant.

“Who are you” his breath tickles your face.

“I-uh my name is Y/N”

He inches closer exploring every inch of your face, you scrunch your nose in protest.

“Who are you” his voice grows darker sending chills through your body.

“I already told you who I am” you bite back.

“ Well let me rephrase my question...What...are you”

You take a moment and think to yourself ‘what am I? What kind of question is that’ you raise your brow a look of frustration washes over your face.

“I don’t understand what you mean” he squints at your response.

Your attention suddenly averts to your arm , the last thing you remember was clawing at your own melting flesh yet there was no pain at all. Your arm is completely bandaged but you were certain they weren’t necessary. Your arm felt...healed, how long had you been here? You begin to panic wondering how much time had gone by.

“No human could sustain such an injury and survive now I’m going to ask you once more what...are you” his voice is dripping with viciousness it flows through you sending heat between your thighs.

“I am y/n a poor village girl who sells art in the city, my father is a farmer, my mother is dead, I live in a small run down home surrounded by land that is near impossible to harvest, I am regretful to say but I am human.” He sighs raising his hand to your throat claws grazing your neck. A warm droplet of blood trickles down your throat you swallow back the lump forming.

“Do you know who I am?” You stare at him watching the chaotic energy grow around him consuming his entire form. It swirled violently in a tsunami of Darkness stronger than any cursed energy you’d seen before.

Curses plagued your village all the time it was apart of your everyday existence but this was on another level. Each year official’s would come and host a challenge for the villages most “gifted”. A test to figure out who was gifted with spiritual abilities that could help the disposal of curses. You always knew you were gifted you could see past the blanket of reality, but you were weak physically unable to protect yourself and others on the battlefield. You decided to stay home and live out your days in the village with your father after a few failed attempts at the test. During these exams you’d seen many terrifying creatures but him...He was the embodiment of destruction nothing you’d ever witnessed before.

“You’re a curse...” His laugh rumbles deep within his chest,You grow irritated.

“My pet...” he brushes your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.

He leans down lips brushing your ear,his breath fanning your skin.

“Ryomen Sukuna” he whispers.

Your eyes widen as your body paralyzes with fear. The strongest Demon to ever walk the earth is standing inches from your face. He smirks at your reaction his tongue tracing his bottom lip in approval.

You always seemed to stumble into misfortune situations but this... this is otherworldly.

#sukunaxreader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #sukuna #sukuna fanfic #jjk smut

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x-avantgarde-x · 4 years ago

Text

Of love and dancing- Levi Ackerman

Summary: after taking back wall Maria, you and the other members of the Survey Corps, attend a ball held on your behalf.

Warnings: none, apart from some modifications of the canon story. Mentions of Erwin/Character and pure fluff.

Song to listen to: As the world caves in by Matt Maltese.

I also had this image in mind while writing this image because Levi looks amazing.

I have to thank @starrynightlys for taking the time to read this! Go check her blog if you don’t know her guys, she’s amazing ♥️

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Pink silk gently framing her well defined curves, her curly brunette locks tamed down to perfection for the first time in years in the survey corps; red juicy lips and rosy cheeks, it all combined with a soft pearly eyeshadow framed your best friends snow white pale skin making her look like a goddess out of an ancient painting. The enticing smell of roses being adding a little something to the picture in front of your eyes.

You smiled sweetly at her, quite proud of your work after the many hours you had spent locked in your room making sure that your best friend looked her best for her ball tonight.

The night had been carefully planned out from weeks before. Since the very first time she had lightly told you about her infatuation with commander Erwin Smith you had made it your duty, as you always had, to ensure her happiness by helping her lure the man. You yourself had had a certain someone in mind, from the moment the event had been announced the image of a certain raven haired captain had done anything but to roam your every thoughts. You had intended on inviting him to attend the ball with you, but for the past weeks Captain Levi had been awfully busy and you hadn’t had a chance to properly talk with him, if only to exchange a few words when you crossed paths on the hallways or delivered him one of his many cups of tea, before he drowned himself back in paperwork.

“Are you done already?” You hear your friend Maria talking from outside the door, “We’re almost done!” You responded, before rushing to the other side of the room and grabbing both your purses. You walked back to Andrea, a reassuring look on your eyes. “Are you sure he will like this?” She asked, voice trembling gently from the butterflies inside her stomach, “Trust me, he will love it.” The words were simple, but the unspoken message hidden behind them was acknowledged by you both ‘He will love you’, that particular way you had had of communicating with each other without the need of words since you were merely kids coming in handy once more.

You were greeted with your friends Maria and Rocio, each of them respectively holding Jean’s and Connie’s arm, while Sasha happily waited for you leaning on the door. Maria shook her head jokingly while complaining “Took you long enough in there to get ready” to what Connie and Rocio agreed while Jean added with a smooth smile “But has it been worth the wait, though”. You all laughed at his comment while Maria crossed her arms, playing offended with her boyfriend as he tried to get her to forgive him.

Once in the castle, your eyes widened in fascination. It was the biggest, fanciest place you had ever stepped your foot at. You were pretty sure, by the look of Andrea’s face, that given her rich familiars she had been to places similar to this before, but given that the place most similar to this that you had ever gone to was the upper class restaurant at the end of your street back at wall Maria, and the fact that the establishment wasn’t comparable to the luxuries and the greatness of the palace left you speechless and feeling quite out of place.

At the end of the room you could hardly pick out Historia, now Queen Historia, from the thousands of people in the room. After successfully taking back wall Maria, and having properly mourned the fallen soldiers, she and her ministers had decided to hold a ball in order to commemorate the Survey Corps and its members. And you couldn’t be any more grateful to her for any of this.

Returning your attention back to the room, you saw Sasha make her way to the food tables as Jean and Maria and Connie and Rocio drifted off to the dance floor, getting lost in between the many couples swaying together, as you tried unsuccessfully to find both your superiors. Making your way through the room, holding hands with Andrea in order to not get lost, you walked along the room a few times failing miserably in your search. Dizzy and bothered by the many people in the room you both walked away to a quiet corner hidden in between a few columns, sitting in a forgotten table that had been placed there you took in the look of disappointment in your friend’s eyes, so in order to light up the mood you asked her “Would you like for me to go and pick up a few snacks and drinks before Sasha finishes with it all?” She nodded faintly as you stood up walking once more towards the buffet.

As you walked back to your table, plates in hand and two glasses filled to the brim with the most expensive wine you had ever tasted, you finally found the men you had been searching for hours ago, Squad leader Hange and them sitting all together in a table in one of the most crowded places of the room. Without losing a moment, and leaving your food behind, not before taking a last sip of your wine, you made your way towards them with steady steps. When you were close enough to their table you made your presence known with a gentle cough and a loud enough “Commander!”

As the tall blond turned to face you, you tried your best to ignore Levi’s piercing eyes looking directly at you. “Cadet (Y/L/N), what a pleasure to see you here. Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked you, but you didn’t fail to notice how he seemed to be searching for someone behind you. “Indeed I am, sir” you answered politely “but I wish I could say the same for my friend Andrea, over there” you added, pointing back at were your best friend sat, patiently waiting for your return “She has been awfully bored since we got her. But I’m pretty sure it’s not something a nice dance couldn’t solve”.

Erwin stood up from his chair almost immediately after your words, and you weren’t really sure that he had even heard your words as he walked away, a bright smile on his face. Hange laughed almost hysterically at the scene playing out before their eyes while you took the seat Erwin had occupied moments before, sitting right next to the man you had been dying to come to this same ball from long ago. You were about to speak, fearing to fall into an awkward silence, when you hear the captain’s smooth voice talking to you “I actually thought he wouldn’t end up asking her for a dance given how things were going. Though he probably hasn’t talked about anything else for the past few hours”, you chuckled in response, turning yourself back to face him.

Levi looked dashing, dressed in a pristine black suit and hair slicked back, giving him some sort of aristocracy air to his appearance. You could feel your heart skip a bit and once again you found yourself growing insecure about your appearance, asking yourself if the plain cream coloured dress and golden high-hills you had come with and your barely noticeable makeup were enough for the place you were at. “You... you look amazing, Captain” you told him, a sweet smile on your face, a faint blush appeared on his cheeks and ear “You look pretty too” he answered back, as if he could read your thoughts "and cut the formalities, tonight we are not in a mission" laughing at his comment you agreed with him, leaning back on your sit not without catching another glass of wine from one of the butlers trays. The next 30 minutes were spent in a comfortable silence, as you entertained yourself with watching your friends and their partners dance to the music, and enjoying your wine along the many decorations of the room. It was then that the music came to an end, the musicians getting ready to play a new symphony, that you finally got the chance you had been waiting for. “Levi...” you called for his attention making him turn back to you “ would you care for a dance?” He looked taken back by your question, his posture getting totally stiff and a disturbed look on his face “I’m sorry, I...” Levi spoke, voice low and trembling, as if he didn’t know how to phrase his next sentence “You...” you spoke back, trying to encourage him as you placed your right hand on top of his, which rested upon the table, and drawing small circles against his skin. He inhaled deeply and said in a rush “I don’t know how to dance”.

You weren’t able to stop a small chuckle from escaping from your lips, to what the man next to you reacted by straightening himself once more and trying to get off your touch. In an attempt to solve the situation you came closer to him, a sweet look on your face “Levi, it’s okay if you don’t know how to dance... follow me” a small smile took over his face, what made your heart skip a few beats at the sight, and his eyes glimmered in amusement as he nodded in agreement and extended one of his hands for you to take it. Doing so, you walked him out of the lounge to a small and solitary room you had spotted once you walked inside the palace, there you could still follow the music without getting swallowed by the mob of dancing couples and without worrying about judicious looks. Intertwining your fingers with his long ones, you placed his left hand upon your waist at the same time that he pulled your closer to he’s chest, a shiver traveling both your bodies making goosebumps appear because of the proximity. The song began and you started to move, almost gracefully, around the dance floor. In a moment of braveness, you decided to place your head against his chest, listening to the rapid rhythm of his heart against his rib cage; you breathed in deeply, his usual scent of tea leaves, old wood, and soap slightly masked by the scent of his cologne. As you continued dancing you could feel his body relaxing against yours, his steps becoming less unsure as you twirled around the place, your whole attention laid on one another.

Songs began and songs ended and there you spent the rest of the night, twirling around the room in your Captain’s arms, detached from the rest of the world that stayed behind a closed door.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi season 4 #levi aot

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lvrexe · 3 years ago

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Henloo shrimp! May I request for a fic/hcs (whichever you prefer) on Kisame meeting his fem s/o adopted father for the first time? I thought it will be interesting if the father is also sort of like missing-nin or Kirigakure civilian just like him.

Thankiess🦈

Sooo I added some extra details, I hope you don’t mind..! ^^’’.... but this was honestly realllll fun to write, thank you so much for the request..!!

Kisame x fem!reader Genre: Fluff Point of View: Second POV Word Count: 2.1k

You were a low-ranked criminal born outside a village, roughly on the edge of the Land of Fire. You never really knew your birth parents; you just knew when you were little and starving, a man from Kirigakure took pity on your weak and trembling state. He was supposed to be there for a week, hiding away from the ninja from his home village, but seeing as he couldn’t just leave some starving kid alone in the woods. His moral compass couldn’t allow it, no matter how fucked up it was.

And so, he taught you some of his ways. Nothing too gruesome, just theft and stealth. Things to aid you and your survival. Not like you needed to do much as a kid, the man stayed week after week until the two of you were living on the edge of the borders, tucked away and well hidden by one of several forests.

“Hey! Get back here, you damn thief!” the shopkeeper shouted, waving his fist at you.

You stumbled around the corner before bolting down the streets of Konoha. Glancing behind you, you got a good glimpse at the shinobi who had lept into action. You scoffed and began to speed up. You whipped around corners, dashing down alleyways, anything to throw the shinobi off your track. They were stubborn though, they followed you through everything you did. As you turned another corner, you immediately dipped into a dango shop, wheezing and huffing. Silencing your chakra— just as your father had taught you—, you watched as the shinobi bolted down the streets, looking for you.

Knowing how keen shinobi were, you knew they’d be circling back when they realized they had lost track of you. Unless they decided you weren’t worth their time. Either way, you weren’t risking it. You flicked your hood up and stuffed the stolen foods into your jacket pocket, ignoring how awkward it looked. You took a glance around the shop before spotting two unusual figures in cloaks. One of them seemed to notice your stare and peered his head up; under his woven hat was palesh blue skin and piercing white eyes. He cracked a grin at you, he seemed to be able to read you like a book. He murmured something to his friend whose back was turned to you and after a short wait, the other shifted to the side. Taking the sign to sit, you planted yourself at their table.

That’s how you met the man known as the Tailless Tailed Beast, Kisame Hoshigaki, and his partner, Itachi of the Sharingan. Two S-rank rogue ninjas working in the Akatsuki. It was supposed to be a simple five minute interaction and the only interaction you had with them. But after a conversation started by Kisame, the two realized how useful you could be. Intel. You weren’t that high-ranked of a criminal, a petty thief in the Land of Fire. You’d slip right into the crowds of other villages.

Kisame took an immediate liking to you and Itachi tolerated you. You never paid Itachi any mind, though he came around when you had come back from Iwagakure with specific information on the Four-Tailed Jinchuuriki Kisame was assigned to. After a while, Itachi had warmed up to you a bit.

You were supposed to leave, supposed to head back to the Land of Fire, but Kisame had insisted you continue travelling with them.

“What?” you questioned, raising your brow.

Kisame chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, well, you know, we may need intel again… For other missions,” he replied, explaining his offer.

You crossed your arms and thought back to your family. You were usually the one who got the necessary items. But you assumed your father could easily take care of himself. You looked back up at him. “Alright, sure,” you nodded.

Apparently, Kisame hadn’t even said anything to Itachi, as the Uchiha was confused upon still seeing you travel beside them. If he had any complaints, he never made them known.

You eventually learned that the reason why Kisame was so insistent on you sticking around was not because the two needed intel— in fact, you were only sent out to gather information once more after the first—, but rather Kisame ended up falling for you hard during your travels.

It took you some time to come around, but after a rather… enjoyable night, the two of you decided to try out dating. It ended up working out pretty well. Kisame, despite what his frightening appearance may imply, was a rather gentle lover. His touch was tender, his words were soft whenever he spoke to you, he never raised his voice even in heated arguments. But he’d be damned if he let anyone put their hands on you. He was highly protective, and, as you soon found out, was easily jealous of any man who dared to approach you with the intent of wooing you away with their charm.

It was a strong relationship, the two of you mixed well together, and after a year, you felt ready enough to introduce the man to your father.

“Hey Kisame, we’re headed back to the Land of Fire next month, right?” you asked one night. “Eh? Yeah, Itachi needs to head back for— eh, personal reasons,” he replied to you, shifting his body to face you.

“Do.. Do you think we’ll have time to make a quick stop?”

“Quick stop? What do you need?” he inquired.

“I… I want you to meet my dad.”

Kisame’s breathing hitched and his shoulders tensed. “Er…” he mumbled before turning his back to you in the futon. “I.. I’ll check with Itachi, we might not be able to.”

After that, Kisame avoided the topic altogether. Each time you brought it up, he’d turn his head to avoid your eyes and murmured an excuse or just changed the topic. Eventually, the month came to an end and it was time for the trip back to the Land of Fire. You were annoyed with your boyfriend, to say the least. The trip back was silent, filled with an awkward tension between you and Kisame that Itachi had to bear through.

The moment the three of you crossed the borders, Itachi came to a halt and turned around. His sharp gaze flicked between the two of you before he let out a sigh. “The unresolved issue between you two is bringing me a headache,” he stated simply. “I’m going ahead. You stay and figure out your relationship problem.”

“Eh, but Itachi—”

“I’ll be fine, Kisame,” the Uchiha snapped. He sighed and turned on his heels. “I can handle myself.”

You watched as Itachi left the two of you alone, disappearing into the woods ahead. Once his silhouette was far and out of sight, you wasted no time in turning to Kisame, hands on your hips and glaring a hole deep in the side of his head. “What is wrong?” you angrily demanded answers.

“Me? Nothing!”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” you huffed, “Everytime I bring up my father, you get all weird and it’s annoying.”

You crossed your arms and sulked as a frown grew on your face. You averted your eyes, avoiding his own. “We’ve been dating for a year now, Kisame…” you murmured, “Weren’t you the one who said you wanted something serious?”

“Yes, but…”

“So what’s the issue? You can’t just ignore my family like this,” you sighed.

Kisame grumbled and scratched the back of his neck. Fuck, he hated seeing you like this. He sighed, tempted to reach out before he dropped his hand. “I…” he uttered, “Babe, you know it’s not like that…”

“So what’s the issue, Kisame? Why don’t you want to meet my dad? You’ll have to eventually!”

He took a deep breath and a blush grew across his cheeks. “I don’t… Well, it’s embarrassing, y’know.”

You stopped for a moment, taking in his unusually timid posture. The way he averted his gaze to the ground, tilting his head from yours. Then it clicked. He’s afraid to meet your parents. Once the realization hit, you found it hard to not to laugh. You let out little giggles with attempts to silence them but as you continued on to look upon your embarrassed boyfriend, you couldn’t stop your laughter from bursting out. You clutched your stomach, hunched over and laughed to your heart’s content while Kisame watched in utter confusion and horror.

Kisame Hoshigaki; the Tailed Beast without a Tail and Monster of the Hidden Mist, afraid to meet your father.

The idea was hilarious to you. To Kisame? Not so much.

“He-Hey! Don’t you laugh!” he interrupted your laughing spree.

“Kisame, he’s my dad! He’s not going to do anything to you!”

“It’s not that!” he sighed.

“What if your dad doesn’t like me?” he eventually admitted. “I mean, look at me, y/n, I’m hardly human. I’ve got sharp teeth, gills and I’m a criminal!... Don’t even mention my gray skin…”

Now you felt horrible for laughing. You rubbed his arm and frowned, trying to get him to look at you again. You knew his appearance was an insecurity of his, Itachi being his partner likely increased that insecurity tenfold. “Hey…” you spoke in a hushed tone. Your hands reached up and cupped his cheeks. “Come on, Kisame, you don’t need to worry about any of that, I told you my family doesn’t care about appearances.”

“Yeah, for normal looking people,” he butted in.

“You’re normal, Kisame,” you insisted.

Kisame knew you weren’t going to relent, you never seemed to. He sighed and shook his head. “Alright, alright, fine… Then what about me being a criminal?”

You smiled. “Relax, Kisame… I feel like you and my dad would have a few things in common.”

“This… is it?” he murmured under his breath, a little taken aback.

You nodded as you pushed through some bushes. “Yup! Ever since I was a little girl, you know,” you clarified as you slipped into the front yard of the small cabin your father had built years ago.

Kisame stood in front of your home, staring upon the front doors, timid. Shit, he was nervous. His body even flinched as you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Looks beaten down…” he commented.

You hummed. “It does… Dad’s probably been skipping out on the repairs…” you huffed.

Digging through your pockets, you pulled out your keys and unlocked the door. “Hey, Dad?” you called out the moment you swung open the front doors.

“Y/n?”

A middle-aged man poked his head through one of the rooms. His gloomy face lit up as he laid his eyes on you. “Ah! Y/n!” he called out as he walked out into the main room. “Come in, come in,” he insisted.

You entered the house, ready to embrace your old man, but knitted your brows in confusion as your father stopped and stared behind you. You remembered your boyfriend and turned around. “Hey, Kisame, come on—”

Kisame and your father stared at each other in shock. You glanced between the two, watching their stare-off. “Eh, is that the Monster of the Mist?” your father piped up. “Ehh… what was your name again? Kisame…?”

“Kisame,” he replied, “Kisame Hoshigaki, sir.”

“Ah, yes! I heard about your doings while I was raising young y/n here,” your father murmured. He walked closer to Kisame and leaned into the man, eyeing him up and down, scrutinizing his every action. “But what’s a man like you doing with my daughter?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Dad, quit it. Leave my boyfriend alone,” you said, peeling your dad away from Kisame.

“Eh, he was a student of mine! Allow me to see how my student has grown!” he grumbled at you, but he reluctantly agreed as he made his way back to the table.

Slowly, you turned to your boyfriend. He stepped in and slowly shut the doors behind him. He noticed your stares and let out a short, nervous chuckle. “Heh, yeah… Your father trained me for a year when I was still in Kirigakure… He left because of his crimes…” he quietly explained.

Your father chimed in with a hum of agreement, confirming Kisame’s statement. “Now, come! Sit!” he instructed. When Kisame was taking off his shoes with timid movements, your father groaned. “Now, Hoshigaki!”

“Yes, sir!” your boyfriend blurted out as he quickened his movements, basically bolting over to the table. You sat yourself down beside Kisame and glanced over to your father, who analyzed you and Kisame with little subtly.

His eyes were more focused on Kisame, his eyes shooting daggers into him. Kisame shifted in his spot, visibly uncomfortable. This wasn’t the kind of student-teacher reunion he was expecting. You sighed and smacked the table as your other hand intertwined with Kisame’s. Upon hearing the smack, your father shook his head and quit his glares. He beamed a bright smile and sat up straight. “Now, tell me about this relationship of yours,” your father demanded.

#kisame x yn #kisame hoshigaki #naruto #naruto imagine #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines #akatsuki imagines #akatsuki x reader

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damnedparker · 4 years ago

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fugitives

pairing: alex law x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: food mention, swearing, Extremely Soft alex, cliche flower date, literally all fluff because thats my brand i guess

summary: alex law is a lot of things, but he most definitely is not a shitty boyfriend.

3k words alex lawies! what! i dont even know what this is. soppy romantic stuff. i love this stupid criminal man too much and no one can stop me. all i can write is fluff. everyday i wake up and choose yearning

You almost groaned as you were brought out of a vague sort of sleep for the third time that night, your boyfriend going through another bout of shifting around for the thousandth time. Alex had always had on and off issues with falling asleep, what he attributed to having a brain that just never stopped or slowed down enough to relax unless he was completely exhausted. You understood what he meant, you only wished you could do something to help. You had tried getting him to read, or relaxing to music before sleep, but neither seemed to help much for him.

As he shifted around again, tangling and untangling his legs with yours multiple times before tossing his head to the side in frustration, you scooted away from your usual place tucked into his side. You had hopes that giving him space without you being half on top of him might help him find a comfortable enough position to fall asleep. Soon, you began to doze off again, your body tuning out his tossing and turning just enough before you were woken up by him whispering your name when he stilled. You replied in a sleepy hum, not quite coherent enough to form any words at the moment.

“Are you mad at me?” You blinked your eyes open at that, confused.

“No, Alex, why d’you think that?”

“You moved away from me.”

“I thought maybe you would be more comfortable that way is all.” You yawned, closing your eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” There was a beat of silence, and you thought he had tried to fall asleep again before he reached out for you and pulled you back into his arms, his front pressed tightly against your back. You smiled at the return of his warmth, much preferring to sleep with him holding you or vice versa. More moments of quiet passed, and you began to get sleepy again. But once more, Alex’s voice brought you back to the waking world.

“When’s the last time we went on a date?”

“What?” You mumbled, not sure if you heard him right.

“I don’t know when the last time we went out together was.” He shifted against you again to push his legs between yours, his cold feet settling against your calves. You easily fought the urge to shiver, used to his icy palms and feet pressing against your skin or warmth during the night.

“We went out to the pub just last week.” You replied, becoming fully awake now. A frustrated puff of air from Alex met the back of your neck.

“I’d hardly call me getting shitfaced-drunk a proper date, love.” His fingers began to nervously play with the hem of your shirt as he spoke, a telling tick that Alex always smoothed over with brazen or loud words, pushing down the fact that he was distressed. You covered his hand with yours and pressed it to your tummy to still his movements, now exposed from all the shifting around the both of you had done.

“I don’t need a proper date, or whatever that even means, Alex. I just like being around you.” It sounded incredibly corny, sure, but it was true. You’d much rather get plastered or stay home watching movies with your boyfriend, than have to go through the motions at some overpriced restaurant only to come home and do the very same thing you would rather be doing in the first place.

You turned around in his arms, changing positions so that your head rested on his chest, your arms hugging his middle. He began playing with your hair quietly, not saying anything after your last statement. He had seemed to relax a little at your reassurance, but you could feel the insecurity lingering in his movements and the silence that followed without some kind of acceptance or witty comment.

This time it was you who broke the quiet.

“What’s got you thinking about this in the middle of the night?”

“A few days ago, when we were hanging around on the couch, David said some fuckin’ thing about us never going out on a date, and me being a shitty boyfriend. I don’t know why I keep thinking about it.” He mumbled bitterly, upset with himself for letting this get to him. You scooted up slightly, so your face was level with his, reaching out to brush the hair out of his face, which was quite the sight from all the tossing and turning in bed.

“Well, David’s a twat,” you murmured next to his ear, causing a small grin to break out on Alex’s face. He turned to look at you, dark circles present under his icy, soft eyes, his smile unfading. You had to actively stop yourself from bursting out with an I love you, not wanting to make the moment too serious, and you weren’t sure that Alex was the type to say it. You were also a little nervous to tell him, and mostly just hoped that somehow, he knew how much you cared for him. And, of course, you hoped he felt the same. “You are anything but a shitty boyfriend, my Alex. You’re my favorite person.” He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, now resting against his cheek. A quiet sigh of contentment left his lips, and you closed the small gap between your faces to give him a long kiss.

“Let’s go somewhere tomorrow, get away from this stupid flat for a bit.” He pressed his cheek to yours, breath tickling your ear as he murmured softly to you. Tingles spread down your spine at the intimacy, and your hand found its way under his t-shirt, soft with wear, running up his back to feel his skin.

“Where to?” You raised an eyebrow. He sat up slightly to rest his cheek on his hand as he looked down at you, pretending to think hard before answering. Your heart fluttered when his other hand found yours, gently squeezing.

“Wherever you want.”

“Well, then I’d like to stay home.” Alex sighed dramatically and hung his head in lighthearted annoyance. The smile that had overtaken your lips since he’d woken you was incapable of leaving your face as you reached out to run your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He peeked up at you with one eye.

“You’re so difficult, you know that?”

“I do it just to make you mad.” The smile on your face was wiped off briefly as you squeaked in surprise when Alex leapt up from his position, trying to pin you to the bed. Laughter rung out far too loudly from your lungs in the middle of the night as you scrambled to escape his hold, albeit not very successfully. Just as you had one foot on the floor to leave the bed, Alex grabbed your other ankle, and the movement of you pulling away resulted in you crashing onto the wood floor, with Alex following, landing on top of you with an almost comical oof. You groaned under him, a bit of pain coming from his weight, as well as the contact your body had made with the hard floor. There was barely a moment to register said pain, as the two of you wrestled on the floor for a bit, somehow bringing the blankets with you across the room within the struggle. You eventually yielded to your boyfriend, far too out of breath from laughter and effort to fight any longer, and also knowing you were making too much noise.

“I win.”

“Yeah, I think that happens when you give the other person a concussion.” You sarcastically replied, wincing when you tried to sit up. Alex’s eyebrows drew up in concern, but you stopped him. “I’m just kidding, Alex. But that fall did kinda hurt. You’re fucking heavy.”

“It’s all my muscles.” He grinned, letting you go to lay next to you. You pinched his bicep as he moved over.

“Yeah, these chicken arms are so strong.” You teased, and he scoffed again in feigned offence.

“You know, I’ll remember that the next time you’re drunk and you don’t want to walk home from the pub,” He pointed a finger at you, which your response was point your own at him. Except, you know, the middle one. “Ohh, you’re so sweet, darling.” He cooed. You rolled over to straddle his waist, taking his position from earlier. Alex rested his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. It was a curiosity how this man didn’t get whatever he wanted when he was capable of looking at you the way he did. “Please can we go somewhere tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you finally agreed, and he sat up in excitement, making you slide down to his lap. You rested your hands on his shoulders. “Somewhere fun though. Not a fancy restaurant.”

“What about a… lower grade restaurant?”

“Alex…” He responded to your small whine with your own name in the same tone, tilting his head with the cutest puppy dog eyes in the world.

“I don’t like restaurants either, but we can get the food to go. I’ll take you to that park you like, with the botanical gardens,” he pouted. “Come on, I’ll pick you a flower or some romantic crap like that.”

“I don’t think those flowers are meant for picking, sweetheart,” His only response was a mischievous grin. You should have known better than to even try to say anything opposing his plans. You weren’t ever going to really say no in the first place; why would you reject any amount of time spent with your boyfriend? Especially when he was being uncharacteristically romantic, or at least romantic in his own way. “I suppose we can go.”

“Good,” His smile turned soft. “Now I really won’t be able to sleep.”

The next day, Alex burst into your apartment after you had gotten home from work. Literally right after. You had barely taken off your shoes.

“Sometimes I regret giving you a key to my flat.” Your hands gripped at the sofa you were leaning on, recovering from the minor heart attack he had given you from his sudden appearance.

“Why? I thought you liked me.” He teased, grabbing onto your waist from the side. Your eyes softened as you took in his appearance, dressed in your favorite combination of the approximately six options in clothes he had; a green sweatshirt, denim jacket, topped by his leather jacket.

“I like you very much, Alex.” your voice was almost dreamy as you said it, locking eyes with him for a moment too long. Your boyfriend shifted a little, seeming to get nervous and glancing down before he spoke.

“We best get going soon, huh?” The sudden change of subject made you swallow hard, worried you’d ruined something at his now fidgety state. You nodded and mumbled something about changing before rushing off to your room. That was weird, and the sudden shift in mood from Alex meant something was either wrong, or you had made him uncomfortable somehow. Great. Not like that won’t haunt you the rest of the night. Totally.

As soon as you emerged from your room, clothes changed and forcibly pushing down what had happened a moment ago, Alex seemed back to his regular, excited self, throwing you a grin that encouraged you to file the moment ago in the back of your mind. Along with how clammy his palm felt when he slid his fingers between yours. Maybe he was still anxious in relation to everything he said last night.

There was only a brief separation of touch as you both slid into the Mini Cooper. Key into ignition, gear shift in reverse; Alex threw his arm over the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking lot, stopping briefly with his foot on the brake to press a kiss to your cheek before switching gears and heading out onto the road. His hand soon landed in its regular affectionate spot on your thigh as he drove, turning up his favorite album so the two of you could sing along, your off-key screaming going in and out as you got swept up in random conversations. When it was warm enough, Alex would roll all the windows down, and you’d cruise forever until you end up parked in the shadows somewhere to make out like teenagers. It was torturous how much you loved him; how happy he made you feel. You hoped you made him feel the same way.

The oh-so romantic meal for the night were greasy chips to share, probably detrimental for your intestines later, and sandwiches from the place you both frequented often, as it was almost the exact middle distance between your flats. As per tradition, the two of you ate on the bench outside, as the weather was a little chilly as dusk approached, but not cold enough yet to scare you off. The two of you talked about the usual as you ate, jumping from topic to topic with the ease of trapeze artists, supporting each other with interest as you went. Alex was smiling far more than usual, especially when the two of you were talking about work of all things, and the way his eyes followed your every movement squeezed your heart just the same as his hugs did after a few days apart. Whatever was on his mind was clearly tinging his behavior, and you definitely could tell, with the other signals from other, something was up with him. You just didn’t know what.

What followed your dinner was another car ride, as the gardens you loved were too far of a walking distance. And although it wasn’t a long distance when driving, you were still anxious to get out as soon as you got there, throwing open the door mere seconds after Alex parked the car.

The gardens were fairly empty, but not totally so; a few people roamed about here and there, but they were mostly adults. Alex trailed close behind you as you began to explore, surveying all the new plants that had been added since the last time you’d been able to visit.

“I should’ve brought a camera,” he mentions as you study a patch of dahlias, maroons and oranges beautiful in the soft light of the scattered lampposts around the gardens. “You’re so pretty.” The last comment was softer than his first, amplified by his sudden presence next to you, an arm slipping around your waist. You glanced over to meet his gaze, already stuck on you, tilting your head just so. Something was definitely going on with him. But knowing Alex, he wasn’t telling you for a reason, so it’d be best to just let him get to whatever it is on his own. In all honesty, his tone had struck you silent, and you didn’t know what to say. A kiss on his jaw replaced any words you could’ve forced out of your mouth.

The two of you stuck to the other’s sides as you continued to stroll through the gardens, conversing about both the flowers and whatever tangential topic struck your thoughts.

Eventually, you ended up sitting on a bench next to your favorite flowers of the night, the honeysuckle. Something about them was drawing you towards them, and Alex had insisted you sit for a while and talk. His jacket had found its way to your shoulders a while ago, due to the slight shiver you had experienced a few times from a breeze that was a bit too strong, and your boyfriend immediately jumping on the idea that, god forbid, you were a bit too cold. He would never admit it, but sometimes he was very protective of your comfort level. It was sweet.

You were busy looking up at the stars which were growing brighter as the night wore on when Alex called your name softly. His hand slipped into yours again, beginning to play with your fingers like he always did when something was bothering him.

“You know,” he paused, looking down at his lap and seeming very interested in watching his thumb stroke and rub gently over your knuckles. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best boyfriend over the past year… I know I’m temperamental and annoying sometimes—”

“Alex,” you stopped him with a gentle smile. “Like I told you last night, you’re my favorite person. No conditions and no buts.” He still wouldn’t look at you, so you took the opportunity to brush his hair from his face to know you were listening attentively. “What is it?”

“I just—” He sighed, his shoulders readjusting as he sat up and finally turned his head to you. “I really love you.” His eyes were full of worry as he made his confession, and all you could do is squeeze his hand in reply with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’ve never really committed to someone before, so I’ve just been… really worried about telling you. I don’t know. I know you like me, every logical part of my brain shows me that. I know I would be devastated if you left. I just—I worry you don’t wanna be stuck with someone like me sometimes. Especially when my flatmates barely tolerate me. I don’t know how you manage to all the time.”

“It’s not something I have to think about, I just do,” you shrugged. Your brain was working on mostly auto-pilot at his words, the confession spreading warmth through your body like wildfire. “I love you, idiot. Of course I love you.” A grin spread across Alex’s face at your words, both in relief and in affection. Before you could add on to your statement, he rushed forward to smother you in an excited kiss, his hand slipping up to cradle your jaw. And then he repeated the motion, a few times over, a punctuation to his confession, and a release of worry.

“Fuck.” He murmured as he pulled away for the last time. You furrowed your eyebrows in question, as he tore his eyes away from you to lean over and pluck a honeysuckle flower from next to the bench.

“Alex, I wasn’t kidding when I said that’s not what those are for—"

“Be quiet, baby, I’m being romantic,” he shushed, tucking the flower gently above your ear. You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped from you and caused you to tilt your head; just a bit too much, as the flower drifted into your lap. Alex let out another curse and carefully slipped it back to where it was, eyeing it like a disobedient dog. “I was gonna do that before I told you.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s still cute now,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead before standing and tugged on the hand joined with yours. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the flower police arrest you for theft.”

“Please, they’d never catch us. I wouldn’t let them,” he scoffed, playing along. “Besides, we’re too cute to be prosecuted.”

#alex law x reader #alex law #ewan mcgregor x reader #alex law fluff #my fics

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softcallofdutyimagines · 4 years ago

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More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 5

Summary:

I once again expose myself for being into older men, and you and Woods go on your first date

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference

“Anyway, can I help you with something?”

Your friendly voice and sweet smile pull him out of his thoughts. Frank looks down at you, and instantly lets his nerves get the better of him. This was a mistake from the beginning.

He looks away, attempting to mask his insecurities with a gruff exterior, “Uh, it’s nothing. Sorry, may-”

“Oh no no, it’s fine, really! I just have to deliver these papers and then I can be right with you”, you smile encouragingly, and then… he decides to stay. More due to the fact that he feels unable to say no to you rather than by his own resolve, however.

He’ll have to watch out for that.

So he waits. There’s exactly one other chair in your office, a squat cube shaped thing sitting on the other side of your desk. Clearly this is something you own and brought in, rather than a piece of furniture that was given to you like that plain old black office chair behind your desk. The chair looks like it was brightly colored once, and smacks of something salvaged from the early 70s and dragged into the modern era. Still, it’s rather comfortable despite the faded, slightly sagging state of it.

Frank traces his fingers up and down the angular arm rest, thinking of you. You know, now that he’s had the chance to look around… There’s actually quite a few things of the past in here. He sees a bulky old camera and even a typewriter tastefully displayed amongst a few other nik naks on your shelves, both of which look like they were rolled out around the time he was just a child.

For a moment, he feels uncomfortable again and far too old to be trying something like this with you. But then, the anxiety is washed away with the musing that perhaps…. You like old things.

He can’t help but huff a laugh at that. A wishful thought on his part, maybe, and yet… not completely untrue.

“What’s so funny?”, your curious voice pulls him out of his thoughts as you suppress a small laugh of your own.

“Huh? Oh, nothing just… That camera’s gotta be older than I am”, he chuckles and points to the black box of a thing just above you. “What are you doing with a piece of junk like that anyway?”, he laughs.

You gasp in mock hurt, “It’s not junk! It works!” Suddenly you seem to grow quite excited, trotting up to retrieve the object in question. Cradling it carefully, you swing around your desk and take a seat on the hardwood, showing off your treasure, “This is a Kodak Cartridge Hawk-Eye from 1926!” You enunciate the date excitedly as though it were a relic from the dinosaur days, meanwhile all Woods can think of is that that was only a mere four years before he was born.

For a few minutes longer, you go on giving a whole info dump on all you know about the little device, wave upon wave of building excitement adding to your voice and before long, Frank finds himself being swept up in it all. No offence, but… he really doesn’t give a single fuck about the camera. But, the way it has you grinning bright as sunshine. The electric spark in your eyes. The way you give his arm a gentle touch to brace him for what you seem to think is a very riveting fact…

He would listen to you talk about that damn thing all day, just to see you like this.

Before he knows it, the lecture is over and he couldn’t be more disappointed. You shake your head, just now realizing you’ve gone off on a tangent once again. “Ugh, sorry…”, you laugh it off and go to put it away, “I just get so excited about my antiques. I love that stuff, you know? Anyway, before I go off again… What was it you wanted to see me for?”

Suddenly, Frank can feel his heart clench tight. He had almost forgotten why he came, and now… he’s wishing you would’ve too.

“Oh? Uh, why… Why did I-? Uh… Yeah, um, so-”

Damn it! He never thought he’d say this, but he’d rather be in a gunfight right now. Anything then this… juvenile, high school shit. You’ve since returned to your spot on the edge of your desk. Despite his highly suspicious stuttering, your expression remains polite and even encouraging as you wait for him to formulate a coherent sentence.

While his mind reels for some sort of excuse, anything to get him out of this situation he’s dug for himself, his nervous gaze lands on the very last thing it needs to right now. Your eyes are glittering in this afternoon light. Do you know that?, he thinks. You’ve locked eyes right back at him, but the situation is anything but awkward. He appreciates the way that you aren’t afraid of him. That you’re willing to show him patience and understanding… Like he’s a fucking human being, instead of some crazy old veteran that you’re just indulging until you can finally get rid of him.

The longer he looks back at you, the more and more he can feel the tension melting out of him. Each muscle in his body slowly but surely unclenches, allowing him to relax at last as he leans back into his seat. He can’t lie to you. You don’t deserve that.

Damn it…

Frank breaks eye contact at last. He flexes his hand gently, working out the nervous energy, as he makes a fist. “I uh… I was just wondering if, maybe… you wanted to get coffee sometime…”

Immediately he braces for… well, he’s not sure what exactly, but rejection for sure. He closes his eyes so he can’t see the disgusted face you must be making, and all the muscles he’d just set at ease jump back into bands of iron across his chest, tensed so tight, he feels like his heart might stop. It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like years have passed when you finally respond…

“Sure! What time would work for you?”

His eyes snap open as he jerks his head around to look at you, not entirely sure he heard you right. But then… there’s that same, sunny smile and electrified eyes that tell him you mean it.

“I-I uh…”, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Woods sits up straight, fixing a strand of hair that’s strayed from its place, and grinning excitedly himself. He hasn’t felt like this in… years. “W-well what time would work for you? I’m sure as shit not doing anything”, he laughs.

You think for a moment, “Oh! Say, do you go for a run on Saturdays too?”

Pft, not lately. “Yeah! Why?”

You light up, “Great! Tell you what, let's meet up and we can go for a run together then hit that coffee shop we met at last time. Would that be alright? Could be fun!”

As though you even needed to ask, he’s already agreeing. The two of you make some more concrete plans like the wheres and whens specifically before preparing to head your separate ways. You stop him and scribble down your number on a torn sheet of paper. “Just in case”, you smile. “And hey… Loser pays”, you break out into laughter.

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles back, “Don’t think I’ll go fucking easy on you!”, he calls, half way down the hall by now as you wave him off.

When you’ve retreated out of sight, Woods takes a look around. Alone again. Good. He reaches into his pocket and gingerly retrieves the slip of paper. Over and over again he reads and re-reads the chicken scratch handwriting you’ve produced. To him, it’s wonderful.

By the time he gets to his car, he feels like he knows that number better than his own dog tag ID. He slips the precious sheet into his wallet, the first of a few select reminders of you that he’ll keep safe in there.

As the few short days go by, he waits restlessly until he can see you again. And finally… Finally, Saturday morning comes.

5:26 am, and he’s up before his alarm. He doesn’t even need to check the digital clock to see what day it is. He already knows as he jumps out of bed and races to get ready. In no time at all he meets you early at the nearby park you agreed to meet at. You’ve come prepared in your high tops, short shorts, and nylon catsuit. Stylish and modern, but thankfully not as over the top as what the fashion industry would have you in.

It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his eyes up.

“Ready?”, you stretch your arms up high, only accentuating your body as you do so.

Frank can feel himself turning red as he status out an affirmative, earning… is that a smirk? from you.

“Alright then, ready… set…”, without warning you bolt off for a head start.

“Hey!”

He wants to be mad, but… He’s just having too much fun, damn it. About half way through, it’s a fair race, and although he’s beating you it’s not by that much. Once he’s proved to himself that he’s still got it, Woods allows himself to fall back, giving you the ego boost you need to stick it out and sprint to the finish, tired as you are.

Frank trots to a stop behind you shortly, only slightly more out of breath then you are. He may have let you win, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t give him hell in the first half.

“Cheater”, you give his shoulder a light punch and a knowing look.

“Me?”, he laughs, ignoring the accusation that he would ever let someone else beat him in a competition, “What do you call that stun at the start?”

You merely laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as you head towards the door of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as you enter and walk up to the counter together. You place your orders, and Frank pays. You wait in silence for your orders, merely taking the time to completely catch your breath.

Drinks and breakfast in hand, you sit by the large bay windows together. The sun has just peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow. A halo of light shines around you, catching every perfect curve and angle you have to offer as you grace him with your presence. The food and coffees are nearly forgotten as you both get caught up talking about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation topics turn and change like leaves in the wind, easily transitioning from one to the other as you slowly yet surely get to really know one another.

Frank is on the edge of his seat, waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say next as he talks with you. It’s the most excited he’s been to hear someone else drone on and on in his entire life. By the time you’re both feeling talked out, the sun is well on it’s way to rising and the morning dew has since evaporated.

But, it doesn’t matter. How could he ever feel time was wasted when it was spent with you?

The two of you walk back towards the park, making sure to take it slow so you can get the most out of what little time you have left together.

“And then I said, ‘Looks don't count for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam baby!’ “

You burst out laughing, “Did you really? And then what happened!”

He grins, “Well, the- Oh, wait, we’re uh, we’re here…”

The two of you stop at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically empty aside from your lone car only a stone’s throw away. At that, the mirth seeps from you as well as you agree.

“Well… I guess… thanks. I had fun, you know”, Frank turns to face you, hoping more than anything that you enjoyed yourself as well.

“Yeah, me too!”, that familiar little smile that he’s grown so fond of slowly makes its way back. “Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides,”, you act on a jolt of courage, stretching up on the tips of your toes to press a little kiss to his rough, stubbly cheek, “you have to tell me the rest of your story”

You lick your lip and give it a little nervous bite as you shyly take his hand in yours for comfort.. It feels huge, more like a bear paw than a human hand, compared to yours. “Well… See you later…”, you turn and begin to back away, holding his hand until you can no longer reach, forcing you to let go. You offer him one last smile, but all he can do is stand there, frozen amongst a roar of emotions.

Woods lifts a hand to his cheek, reverently caressing the spot your lips touched. The depth, breadth, and complexity of feeling circling in his mind are far too much for him to ever put into words. But, out of them all, one rings out loud and clear. He’s so, so…

Happy.

#black ops cold war #call of duty #frank woods #frank woods x reader #cod fanfic

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sweetyyhippyy · 4 years ago

Text

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 3.

Chapter Three: One Good Thing About Idaho.

(Not my gif)

Summary: Taking it back to the infamous night in Idaho. The first time Spencer and Bridgett had sex.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez.

TW: Spencer being “creepy” and looking at women’s panties, Dom! Spencer, Switch! OC! Character, nipple play, oral sex (female and male receiving), penetrative unprotected sex, dirty talk, restraint, spanking, squirting, mentions of feeling insecurity of the female body, swearing. Do NOT read if you are not 18+ or are not comfortable reading smut!

Word Count: 6.3K

A.N.: Did I really do the hotel room troupe? Yup. Sure did. Because I’m a sucker for it. This is season 3 Spencer!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t understand how they don’t have enough rooms available. Who’s first thought when on vacation is, “oh, I wanna go to Idaho’?” Emily snickers, dropping down to the couch in the hotel lobby.

The whole team was exhausted from flying all morning from Virginia to the middle of nowhere Idaho. When they got there to the hotel, there was a mix up with the rooms they had booked where instead of all 7 of the team members having their own rooms, there were only 3 rooms. Hotch was talking to the manager to try and clear the mishap up.

“They do have potatoes. Never met a potato I haven’t liked.” Bridgett jokes.

Emily laughs, nodding her head in agreement.

“Actually, It’s not all boring, Ernest Hemmingway wrote a lot of his novels in Idaho. He wrote “From Whom the Bell Tolls” in 1939 at the Sun Valley Lodge. His typewriter is still on the desk in the room he wrote it in.” Spencer spewed out from the accent chair, his eyes never leaving the book he was reading.

Bridgett gives him a blank, eyes glazed over look.

“Have you ever thought about going on Jeopardy? You could become a billionaire.” She teases, making Spencer finally look up, his lips pouting out a little bit, eyebrows furrowing.

She smiles, puckering her lips at him to blow him a kiss, something she always did when she would tease him when he was being the equivalent of the bottom of a Snapple bottle fun fact.

“Alright, so apparently because we got here 5 hours after check in, they gave our other rooms away to other people who were here. All they can give us is 3 rooms. All of them have double beds. We’re going to have to share for the next few days.” JJ says, tossing the room keys onto the coffee table.

“You’re kidding. And how are we splitting the rooms? Where is that extra person sleeping if each room only has 2 beds. Hell are we getting any type of discount for them screwing our rooms up?” Derek asks, growing visibly annoyed. He wasn’t fun to be around when he was tired.

“Hotch and Rossi already said they’ll share a room, they weren’t happy about it but it's all we have. I’ll room with Emily. That leaves… you three.”

“Hey, hey, hey, why do I have to room with the boys? Why can’t I room with you?” Bridgett interjects, turning her attention to the girls.

“Well, uh… I don’t really like sleeping with other people and Emily snores.” JJ stumbles over her words, trying to think quickly. It’s not that she didn’t want to room with Bridgett, they each just wanted their own bed. Last agent hired got last pick, that was the rule.

“Bull. Shit. Fine, I’ll share with the boys but I’m getting my own bed, I’m not sleeping with either of you.”

Spencer and Derek look at each other, Derek laughing and shaking his head.

“Oh hell no. Definitely not. I’m not sharing a bed with, boy genius over there. I’d rather go sleep in the woods. They have extra chairs or couches in the rooms?”

“Yeah they have chairs like these ones up there. Why?” Emily asks. Derek nods his head, getting up from the chair.

“Alright. Well I’m rooming with Hotch and Rossi. Good night.” He grabs a room key from the table, taking his bags in his other hand and walking off to the elevator. The girls follow suit, grabbing the second key and hurrying off to the other set of elevators.

“Alright, looks like you and I are roommates for the next few days, Spence. Come on.”

Spencer grabs his bags, offering to take one of Bridgett’s for her. She happily obliges, following him up to their home for the next few days. Spencer was a gentleman and let Bridgett pick out which bed she wanted, take whatever drawers she needed for her clothes, and shower first. He agreed to order some food for the both of them while she was showering, but he got distracted with unpacking his clothes. The first drawer he opened up had all of Bridgett’s undergarments; colorful, lacy bras and frilly underwear to match, that was practically see through. As quickly as Spencer wanted to close the drawer, he couldn’t. His mind was racing a million miles an hour, wondering what these skimpy clothes looked like under her regular clothes. Once he heard the shower shut off he shoved the drawer closed and tried to look natural so she didn’t notice he was being a creeper. The room in Spencer’s pants got cramped now that all the dirty thoughts were swimming in his head. As soon as Bridgett came out of the bathroom with little ass shorts, a tight fitting long sleeve, and wet hair, he couldn’t contain himself. He was done.

“Shower’s free now, Spence.” Bridgett says, grabbing her hairbrush and going through a small bag trying to find something.

It was almost as if a devil and Angel were on his shoulder, one telling him to go for it, the other saying how it might make things awkward between them, and how embarrassing it would be if she turned him down. But of course the devil spoke louder. Spencer tosses what’s in his hand onto his bed and walks over to Bridgett but freezes once he gets close to her, smelling a sweet fruity smell from her shampoo. She jumps slightly once she realizes he’s close behind her.

“You scared the crap out of me.” She giggles, lightly hitting Spencer’s arm with her brush, going back to brushing through the wet almost black hair.

“What are you doing?” Spencer’s mind goes blank, he forgets how to breathe and blink in that moment, his hands clammy. He tried to get the words out of his mouth, but looking at how innocent her face was, her face was puzzled but still angelic.

“Spence?” Bridgett asks again, her eyebrows furrowing.

Spencer clears his throat, shaking his head to wake himself up and come back down from the clouds he was in. He takes one more step closer to Bridgett, confidence overcoming him as he takes Bridgett’s chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting her head up to stare into her dark eyes. She knew what was happening now, Bridgett’s heart starting to beat faster, her eyes fixated on Spencer’s.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to be this close to you, to make all the damn fantasies that have lived in my head for almost a whole year, a reality.” Spencer’s voice low and dark, his thumb swiping against Bridgett’s plump bottom lip.

She laughs nervously, her fingers playing with a button on Spencer’s shirt.

“And what fantasies are those, doctor?”

His heart and dick jumped at Bridgett calling him “doctor”, especially with the innocent look on her face, but her voice full of pure sin. Spencer licks his lips slowly, his hands moving from her chin, down her chest, his long fingers trailing ever so slowly across her clothed nipples, goosebumps covering her body.

“Do you want me to tell you? Or show you?”

“I think you want to show me what exactly your head is cooking up when you’re around me.” Her hand rests on his bicep, the other sliding up into his messy hair, playing with a curl coming from the back of his head.

Bridgett stands on her tiptoes to bring him closer together, one of Spencer’s arms sliding down her back, and pulling her in close to his body, and finally kissing her.

His hand doesn’t stay there for long, Bridgett can feel it slipping down to her ass, rubbing around to find a spot he liked. Neither of them wanted to pull away from the kiss to come up for air, their lips felt so right together. Their lips moved in sync with each other, both of them feeling the hunger from the other. Obviously Spencer was handsome; tall, beautiful brown eyes, messy hair that she wanted to run her fingers through, hands that she couldn’t look away from and have the dirtiest thoughts about what they could do, and his lips… his lips.

It wasn’t long before Bridgett felt for the edge of her bed with her foot, motioning Spencer to come down with her to the bed. His lips leave her for a second, Spencer sitting on the bed instead and taking Bridgett’s hand in his, leading her to stand in between his legs. Spencer’s hands travel down her clothed hips, lifting the shirt up from the bottom. Bridgett takes the long sleeve up over her head and tosses it to Spencer’s bed, leaving her top half completely exposed. She can feel her nipples get hard at the air hitting them, Spencer’s eyes noticing right away.

“Can I?” Spencer asks, looking up at her. His eyes were dark, practically eye fucking her already.

Bridgett nods her head, her hand once again finding the back of his head and toying with his curls. Spencer’s lips kiss down her chest slowly, his hands taking her breast and massaging it. His thumb ghost over her hard nipple twice, smiling as she reacts to the touch. He parts his lips very minimally and blows softly on the neglected nipple, making that one hard again.

“You’re going to torture me aren’t you?”

Spencer’s mouth connects to Bridgett’s mound, his tongue tracing harsh circles around it. Bridgett gasps and moans, her head rolling back and her breath becoming shallow. It has been almost a year or so since the last time she had any type of sexual play, and even then it wasn’t even good. The feeling of Spencer’s warm fingers snaking their way into her shorts brought her back from cloud 9. Her head snaps up and looks at Spencer almost in shock that he was doing this. Once she feels him hit her now sopping wet pussy, she was beyond the point of being desperate. Spencer’s mouth leaves her breast, looking down at her itty bitty shorts, then back up at Bridgett, not expecting her to be bare under her shorts.

“You’re not wearing any underwear?”

“No, these shorts are more comfortable without any.”

“All the damn underwear you have in that drawer and you’re not wearing any? Naughty little thing you are.” Bridgett cocks her head to the side, a puzzled look on her face.

“You went through my underwear drawer?”

Spencer’s mouth opens to try to speak but he has nothing to say to save him. Bridgett laughs, giving his lips a quick peck.

“Is that why you were so worked up when I came out of the shower? Were you getting turned on looking at my underwear, thinking about what they look like when I have them on? Or what I would look like if I was in your bed in just my bra and panties, begging you to take them off for me?” Bridgett lightly pushes Spencer down to the bed to make him lay down.

Before she climbs onto the bed, she pulls her shorts down, kicking them off, now fully naked in front Spencer.

She finally climbs onto the bed, straddling Spencer’s lap. He can feel her bare, hot, and wet pussy from underneath his clothing that was oddly still on, both of them knowing there was going to be a wet spot on his slacks.

“You’re fucking wet.” Spencer swore he just said it in his head but once he heard Bridgett laugh he knew he said it out loud.

“Touch me.” She says bluntly, taking his hands and laying them on her thighs.

Spencer rubs his hands up and down her silky soft thighs, squeezing them, enjoying the feeling of how warm her lower half was.

“And where do you want me to touch you, beautiful girl?”

“You’re smart Reid, where do you think I want you to touch me?”

Bridgett feels a sharp sting on her ass, Spencer sits up quickly, his large hand on the back of her neck, their foreheads pressed together. His jaw was clenched and eyes glued on hers. Her jaw was open, shocked that he just spanked her.

“Ah ah, not ‘Reid’. What did you call me before, that got you in my lap, naked and wet?”

“Doctor. You like when I call you that? What about baby, sir, daddy?” Bridgett kisses Spencer’s neck with each name she speaks.

He was slowly turning into mush under her. This, trying to be dominant side was the last thing he expected from her.

“Anything but my actual name, sweetheart. Are we done talking so I can touch that wet pussy? Make it wetter.” Spencer’s lips press against her neck, giving her a light bite, making her thighs press together.

She gasps at the sharp pinch, holding his head to keep him there.

“Yes please touch me. Touch me before I go crazy. I want your fingers, tongue, mouth, cock, on me, in me. All of it just please, daddy.”

It didn’t take anymore pushing for Spencer to flip their position, laying Bridgett onto the bed. He parts her legs, staring at the glistening slit he’s had wet dreams about. Bridgett stares as he brings his head closer to her pussy, finally diving in and licking slowly up and down, not yet making contact with her clit. Bridgett whines, her nails softly scratching at his shoulder blade.

“You’re a fucking tease.” She whimpers out, trying to bring herself closer to his face.

Spencer smacks her thigh sharply. She makes eye contact with him and sees him shake his head, disapproving of her actions. She finally feels his tongue part her lips. His tongue getting to work quickly, circling it slowly to make her suffer. It wasn’t long before she feels Spencer’s fingers massaging her lips before two fingers slip into her entrance.

“Oh my fucking god, why are you so good at that.” She whines, her whole body shaking with pleasure.

Spencer’s free hand takes the place of his mouth to give him a small break, rubbing her clit and fingering her. Bridgett’s eyes shut, her hips moving to meet the in and out motions of Spencer’s fingers.

“Tell me beautiful, have you thought about my fingers being inside you? Making you wetter than you’ve ever been before? Trying to make you cum?”

Bridgett nods her head, her chest rising and falling fast. Spencer’s fingers leave her entrance quickly, his hand wrapping around Bridgett’s neck. Her eyes fly open, watching Spencer come closer to her face. A grin appearing on her face with a laugh, loving the feeling of his long fingers wrapped around her throat, feeling the pressure from a few light squeezes.

“Use your words. Or I’m not going to let you cum.”

“You’ll still let me cum. You want to hear me moaning your name while I’m cumming, feeling my pussy drip onto your fingers.”

Spencer smirks down at her, releasing his hands from around her neck. Bridgett grabs his hand and puts it back around her neck, her hand still wrapped around his wrist.

“I didn’t want you to stop.”

Their lips meet again, Spencer’s tongue slipping in between her mouth to touch her tongue and play with it. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, giving his bottom lip a bite. Spencer’s fingers are still rubbing her clit quickly, trying to draw orgasam nearer and nearer. She starts to moan into his mouth, losing her composure as she feels the high building up. Spencer pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting on hers.

“Are you going to cum beautiful? Going to cum for me?”

“Yes daddy. I’m going to cum. Please don’t stop touching me.” Her voice was desperate, almost on the verge of tears.

Spencer goes back down in between her thighs, his lips sucking on the sensitive nerve ending.

“Spence, that feels so good. I’m going to cum baby. Make me fucking cum please.” Her whimpers turn into pornagrahic moans, making Spencer’s mouth and tongue work together to finally make Bridgett explode.

He can feel her walls contract harshly against his fingers, Spencer helping her through her orgasam, licking the cum that was escaping her and kissing her clit. Bridgett exhaled harshly, pushing her short hairs that were pasted to her face from sweat out of her way, trying to make sense of the last 30 seconds. She can feel Spencer leave the space between her legs with one last kiss to her pussy and lay next to her, smiling at her.

“So that’s been part of your fantasy huh? Making me cum and see fucking stars?”

“Not the only thing that’s part of my fantasy. Still a pretty big part of my fantasy that has yet to come true.”

Bridgett looks up at Spencer, his nose down to his chin glistening with a mix of sweat and Bridgett’s cum, making her giggle, she takes her hand and touches his lips and chin lightly.

“I think you and I have the same fantasy. We should see if we can make them come true. But first things first. All these clothes need to come off. I’m naked and you need to be naked too. Fair is fair.”

Spencer gets off the bed, ridding himself of his dress pants, unbuttoning his shirt, Bridgett gets onto her knees on the edge of the bed, helping Spencer take his shirt off his shoulders and dropping it to the floor.

“I know you have a tie in your go bag, I think we’re going to need it for the fantasy I have in my mind.”

Spencer gives her a small kiss on her lips before going over to his bag on his bed and taking out a dark gray tie, tossing it to her. She smiles, motioning for him to come back to her. He strides back over to her, touching her hips lightly.

“You don’t understand how beautiful you are, Bridge.”

She smiles, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

“You forgot a very important piece of clothing to take off there, doctor.”

Bridgett lays onto her stomach, pulling the dark blue and white decorated fabric down his legs, his cock getting some much needed air. Spencer takes the rest of her long dark hair out of her way, holding it into a makeshift ponytail uptop her head. Her tongue pokes out between her lips, licking along the thick shaft Spencer was sporting. Spencer hisses slightly, the grip he has in her hair tightening. After kissing the tip of Spencer’s cock a few times to drive him crazy, she takes him into her mouth, stopping halfway down his cock before drawing him back out. Spencer suppresses his groan, clearing his throat to choke it down.

“That’s a good girl. You think you can fit all of it in your mouth?”

Bridgett looks up at him and moans against his cock, pumping the bottom half of his cock to get it wet before swallowing his cock and keeping it there for a few seconds before releasing it quickly to avoid choking on it.

“God damn you’re going to make me cum down your fucking throat.” His breath is ragged, eyes not leaving the attention that Bridgett was paying to his cock.

If you would have asked Spencer when Bridgett started with the team 304 days ago if he thought the brand new agent would be sucking him off, he would think you were crazy. He could hardly believe it himself, she was far out of his league but here they were, minutes away from having the nastiest sex either of them have ever had. As much as Spencer wanted to shoot his load down her throat, he needed to bury his cock inside Bridgett. He let her head bob up and down a few more times before he pulled back from her, leaving her mouth open, a bit of saliva spilling out of her mouth.

“I didn’t get to make you cum.”

“Trust me beautiful, you’re going to make me cum.” Spencer uses his thumb to clean her lower lip and chin.

Bridgett takes the tie that Spencer grabbed from his bag and hands it to Spencer.

“Tie me up, pretty boy.”

Bridgett sticks her butt into the air, putting her arms behind her back. Spencer could have came right were he stood, at the sight of her ass in the air, waiting for him to slide himself into her. He smacks both sides of her ass, earning two yelps from Bridgett, followed by a satisfying moan. He takes the tie and wraps it around both of her wrists just tight enough to where she couldn’t break free, but not hurt her.

“Are you ready, beautiful?” Spencer asks, toying with her still soaking wet middle.

Bridgett clenches her thighs together, moaning at his touch again. She turns her head around to watch as Spencer stands behind her, touching her ass with both hands.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Spencer lines his cock up with her entrance sliding in slowly. Bridgett cries out loudly, biting the blanket under her face. Spencer stays buried inside her for a few seconds, feeling almost lightheaded at finally being inside of her. Bridgett starts to move her hips back and forth against Spencer, finally getting some relief that she needed. Spencer pulls at the tie, spanking her harshly again.

“You’re not taking control of this.” Spencer growls, slamming himself into her roughly.

Bridgett whines, repeating her “naughty” actions. He grabs hold of the makeshift handcuffs, pulling her up so her back is against his chest.

“You’re not listening to me. Are you being a bad girl?”

“Maybe I like being a bad girl. You ever think of that?” Bridgett retorts, a sly smirk on her face.

Spencer takes Bridgett by her jaw line, turning her face toward him, giving her face a light smack. She lets out a surprised gasp, another smile creeping on her face.

“Don’t talk back to me or you're going to be punished.”

“That doesn’t seem like a threat to me, daddy.”

Spencer’s hold on her face tightens, his face inches from hers.

“Do you want me to stop fucking you?”

“Like i said earlier, we both know that you’re not going to do that. You’re too needy to take your cock out of me and not go back in. When was the last time your dick got wet by someone else’s pussy?”

Spencer throws her back down onto the bed, rutting into her roughly. Bridgett starts screaming into the blanket below her, her hands trying to push back against Spencer.

“I thought you could take it? I thought you were tough the way you talk shit back to me.”

“I wanted to get a rise out of you. I needed you to fuck me. You had me worked up.”

“Got what you wanted, didn’t you my pretty girl? Both of us are getting what we want. You’re used to that aren’t you?” Spencer grunts out. He pulls out quickly, taking the tie off her wrists and letting her flip over onto her back. Spencer didn’t miss a beat sliding back into Bridgett, watching her gasp when he slides his whole length in her.

“Good girl. Gimmie your legs.”

He takes her by her thighs and lifts her legs up, resting them on his shoulders. Once her legs are settled onto him he continues to thrust into her quickly. The room filled with their moans and cussing. Spencer takes his thumb and starts to massage Bridgett’s clit again, a wave of even more pleasure falling over her.

“So. Fucking good, daddy.”

“Your pussy is amazing, beautiful. The way you become weak when i touch you, how you feel around me when I’m fucking you.”

Bridgett could barely keep her eyes open with double the pleasure going on. Both of her hands gripping both of Spencer’s biceps.

“You don’t have a condom on, baby.” She mutters, barely squinting up at him finally realizing the lack of protection.

Spencer looks down at his cock slamming in and out of her, shiny with her wetness. It put him in a trance, completely forgetting that Bridgett just spoke to him.

“Daddy, daddy I’m going to cum again.” Her hand flies down to his, keeping his hand moving against her clit.

Spencer could feel her legs begin to shake against him. As he stared at her face he could see a tear fall down her cheek, being completely overwhelmed by the being touched and fucked at the same time.

“It’s okay baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” Spencer coaxes. “You’re such a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy.”

“Sp-Spence. Keep goi-go-going, please, baby.” Her voice was shaky, he swears she was seconds away from crying.

Her nails sink into his arm, gripping his skin. Seconds later her head rolls back against the bed, her walls clenching unbelievably tight. Spencer has to pause, waiting for Bridgett to come down from her high. He wipes the still falling tears from her eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing to me? I’ve never came that hard and cried.”

“Well your past sexual partners haven’t fucked you well enough. They couldn’t feel what your body needed.”

Spencer drops his head down to in between her neck, kissing and nibbling the skin. He grew closer to his end with each thrust.

“You’re so good, daddy.” She whispers in his ear, holding his head close to her, Spencer biting down on her skin, no question if it was going to leave a mark tomorrow morning.

“I can’t hold back anymore. I’m going to cum.”

Spencer kisses Bridgett’s lips softly, staring into her eyes. His body starts to grow more and more weak, his thrusts becoming sloppy and out of rhythm.

“Shit I can’t cum in you. I’m not wearing a condom.”

“I told you that a few - fuck- minutes ago. Just pull out, it's fine.”

There’s a brief moment of panic in Spencer’s eyes before he pulls out quickly, shooting all over her stomach. His eyes screwed shut, soft moans falling from his lips. Bridgett giggles, dragging her two fingers through the liquid on her stomach and licking it off, making eye contact with Spencer the entire time.

“Wait here.” Spencer says, kissing her before getting off the bed and walking off to the bathroom.

Bridgett’s eyes flutter closed for a few seconds before feeling the bed sink lower next to her. Spencer takes the wet wash rag and cleans off whatever is left of his mess off her stomach. She jumps slightly at the cold fabric against her overly hot and sweaty skin, humming as she feels her body start to relax.

“No going to bed yet. I’m going to shower and be back.”

She nods her head, sitting up in her bed to grab her clothes. She throws her shirt on but can’t find her shorts anywhere on the floor. An idea pops into her mind and goes into the drawer of her undergarments. She picks a black pair of cute cheeky panties, with a small bow on the waistband. Bridgett climbs into Spencer’s bed and waits under the sheets.

Once she hears the door open she smiles shyly at Spencer. He has a new pair of striped boxers on and walks slowly past the empty bed.

“You’re in my bed?” He questions.

Bridgett gets nervous, sitting up quickly, not knowing what to say at the moment. Maybe she was overstepping her boundaries, but with what they just did, they no longer had boundaries.

“Well… I just thought that-that uhh since that bed was kinda used and stuff… that I could sleep in yours, in your bed with you, if that was okay, and that maybe we could sleep together, not-not in the way we slept together in that bed, but go to actual bed and then we could cuddle, if you like to cuddle, beca-because I really like cuddling... and I’m talking a lot, sorry.”

Spencer stares back at her like she does him when he rambles on about some random fact he knows far too much about.

“I’m sorry, shit, I’m an ass, I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted to and I didn’t want to bring it up because it would have been awkward. But we can definitely sleep together, in the other way, the other, other way is more than welcome again too. And I will gladly cuddle with you.” He says with a smile, sliding into bed on the other side of her, opening his arms and letting her snuggle up into his chest, his arms holding her close to him.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough with you. I spanked you a lot, slapped you in the face, choked you.”

Bridgett laughs, moving her head up to look at Spencer.

“A lot of people like all that stuff. It’s fun. Especially when the other person takes care of them after and holds them like you’re doing now, and kisses them. Tells them that they were a good girl for doing all those nasty things.”

Spencer raises his eyebrow at the last one, that one catching his attention.

“A good girl huh? You think you were a good girl over there?” He asks, motioning over to the other bed.

Bridgett nods her head. “I think so. I came twice, only talked back a few times, sucked you off pretty well, made you cum, and cleaned up some of the mess off myself. It was a big mess you made.”

“You’re right, you were a very good girl, princess.”

Spencer leans down to delicately kiss Bridgett. She smiles into the kiss and lays back on Spencer’s bare chest.

“Oh, and I put something pretty cute on for you under the sheets.”

Bridgett pulls the covers back to show Spencer her underwear peeking out under her shirt. Spencer’s hand travels over to the thin fabric and plays with the frills on the end of them.

“I was eyeing those earlier.”

“I’m sure you were, creeper.”

Spencer spanks her ass one more time, giving her a long, deep kiss, his hands roaming her body again. He pulls her up, making Bridgett straddle him again.

“You think that I can make you cum again? Think that I can make you cum on my face?”

“3 in one night?”

“Third time’s a charm isn’t it? Come here, you can sit on my face.”

Bridgett hesitates, not letting Spencer pull her up close to her. She looks down at Spencer, not making eye contact with him.

“Uhh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Spence. I can just lay down like I did before.”

“Why? Do you not want to? It’s okay if you don’t want me to eat you out again.”

Bridgett sighs, resting her hands on his bare chest, still refusing to look at him. “It’s just not a good idea unless you like the idea of being suffocated and crushed by me.”

“What? What are you talking about, Bridge?”

She rolls her eyes, climbing off of his lap. She attempts to get off the bed but Spencer takes her hand.

“We’re not all done talking. What are you talking about ‘being crushed by you’?”

“Spence, have you seen me?”

“Yeah, I rather like looking at you actually. Are you talking about your weight? Are you self conscious about it and that’s why you don’t want to do it? You know that I don’t care, right? I know that it’s easier said than just believing it, but I think you’re beautiful regardless of your weight. I know I can’t just smooth talk my way into you not being self conscious of your body but you’re not going to hurt me. And if I can lighten the mood just a little bit, but being suffocated by your pussy sounds great.”

Bridgett snorts, shaking her head, trying not to show that his words made her feel a little warm and fuzzy.

“Well alright then. Lay back.”

She runs her fingers through his wet hair, pushing it back. His grin was equivalent to a kid getting a new bike for Christmas and seeing it under the tree. He lays flat on the mattress, licking his lips to get ready for his feast, so to speak. Bridgett puts her legs on both sides of Spencer’s head, not yet laying into him. He wraps both of his arms around her thighs, lowering her down gently onto his mouth.

She instantly whines as soon as she feels his tongue lick a long stripe across her slit. Out of habit, one finding his messy curls, the other gripping the headboard to keep her balance.

“Spence, oh my god. Your fucking tongue is the devil.”

She can feel him chuckle against her clit, his lips taking it and sucking on it softly. If you asked anyone on the street if this human equivalent of a string bean, who knows everything under the sun, if they thought he could fuck better than anyone they’ve ever been with, they wouldn’t believe it. Bridgett certainly wouldn’t have believed anyone that could attest to that statement. But this was the best sex that’s she had in her sexual history, nobody else has ever made her cum more than once, let alone fucking cry during orgasm.

Spencer’s tongue begins to quickly flick against her, making her thighs clench together quickly, almost locking in place before remembering not to crush Spencer’s head like a watermelon. Her moans become shallow, almost hysterical.

“You’re going to make me cum again. You’re going to make me cum again. You’re going to make me cu-cummmm.” She couldn’t help sounding like a broken record, repeating herself over and over again, barely making sense.

She starts to play with her nipples, making them hard by rolling the sensitive nubs around with her fingers, squeezing them as she feels her walls beginning to clench. The hold that he has of her thighs tighten, holding her in place, not having any way of moving until Spencer was done with her. Bridgett’s body freezes up, heat washing over her entire being, everything going silent, her eyes hazy with more tears escaping her lids. She can still feel Spencer lapping up whatever was coming out of her, enjoying watching Bridgett having borderline convulsions above him.

“If you don’t let me lay down I swear I’m going to pass out.” She whispers, not being strong enough to speak louder than that.

Spencer helps her move her legs carefully, knowing they felt like jelly. She lays on the bed, absolutely no energy left in her body. Spencer envelops her body, picking her up and bringing her back to their position before they went onto round 1 ½.

“I’m all done. No more.” She grunts, pressing her forehead against Spencer’s chest.

He chuckles, pressing a long kiss to her forehead, her fingers massaging her scalp.

“You do know what you just did right?”

She opens her eyes, tilting her head up just enough to questionably look at Spencer, his face was glistening again but more shiny, a stupid grin plastered on his face.

“Oh god what?”

“You kinda, squirted on me.”

She feels her cheeks turn hot, hiding her face back into his chest, laughing nervously. Another first that Spencer just made her experience just tonight.

“I’m sorry. I basically almost drowned you.”

“Trust me, it was the single hottest thing I’ve experienced. You need to get some sleep if you’re going to function tomorrow morning.”

She whines again, shaking her head.

“I don’t even want to think about how sore my legs and vagina are going to be when I wake up. I’m barely going to live.”

“Well depending on how sore you are tomorrow, maybe a massage is in your future. All the sore spots on your body. I’ve been told I have magic hands and fingers.”

“Yeah well we’ll put them to work if I can survive a day of working a case. Can I ask you something?”

“Technically you ju-“

“Technically you just did…” Bridgett mocks his voice, flipping over to her belly. “Don’t think I won’t fight you pretty boy.”

“Okay, okay, your question.” Spencer smirks down at her.

“We’ve known each other for a few months, right? Have you been wanting to do that since we met?”

“Well not right away. I mean, I’ve always thought you were super pretty the first time I saw you, because you are. But once I started being around you more, saw your personality come out. And not to mention you’re always touching me, or making cute flirty eyes at me, and your smile.” Spencer clears his throat, getting carried away with his reason. “But I didn’t feel sexual tension up until 3 months ago. The Halloween party that Garcia had, and you dressed up as that sexy rockstar.”

Bridgett smiles, very fond of the outfit he was talking about. “You know, I would have definitely given you the rockstar treatment that night too. If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted something like this to happen for about the same amount of time.”

They smile at each other warmly, Spencer stroking her cheek. “Where do we go from here?” He asks.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. At least not now.”

“Okay… yeah that’s fine.” Part of Spencer wanted to at least take her on a date, but maybe it would ruin their friendship, and Spencer didn’t want that.

“We should get some rest. We might have an early morning wake up call.” Bridgett says, stretching her neck up to give Spencer 2 kisses.

“Yeah, good night.” He says, pulling her close and massaging her scalp until he could hear rhythmic breathing coming from Bridget.

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