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soaps-mohawk · 5 months ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 27: Drown In It

Summary: Your heat lingers closer and closer, which leaves you with some conflicting feelings. Of course, you're not going to worry about them for much longer...

Paring: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,179 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, heat cycles, knotting, licking, biting, grinding, spanking (it's like once), kissing, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, a sprinkle of angst, language, emotions, and of course some fluff

A/N: And we're in it again, folks. It's happening (again). Though this time, there may be a bit of a surprise....

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(Yes I am using a Barry Sloane gif, trust me you will understand once you read the chapter)

You freeze, dread and panic beginning to fill you as you stand in the doorway to the rec room. The pounding of your heart is loud in your ears, which are quickly growing hot. The urge to turn tail and run is strong, yet you can’t move, frozen in place by the sight in front of you.

Simon is sitting, far too relaxed, in the chair where he normally sits. There’s a book in his hands, the crinkle of the page being turned is like a gunshot. You almost flinch in response, but hold still, wondering if you could back away before he notices your presence. You know it would be futile. He would have heard the crinkling of the bag of chips in your hand, the quiet rustle of it against your leg as soon as you turned the corner.

“Interesting book, this.” He says, not bothering to look up as he sits reclined in the chair, about halfway through the book in his hands.

Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him. You might never have given him, or the book, a second glance had you not been so clearly able to see the cover. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose, hoping you’d see what he’d found, what he’d discovered in your underwear drawer. It’s almost like he was hoping you’d walk in and see it. Or maybe he heard you coming and positioned himself so you’d see it.

“‘The Powerful Omega.’” He says, closing the book to stare at the title.

You shift on your feet nervously, ready to run if you need to, the bag of chips crinkling as you tighten your grip on it.. “I-I can explain-”

“No need.” He says, cutting you off as he flips the book back open. “Is this how you got into our heads so easily?”

Despite the accusing question, his tone isn’t malicious or even disparaging. You fiddle with your fingers, starting to feel like you’re being tested. If you say yes, what will he do? Get angry, accuse you of manipulation? But if you say no, he might think you’re lying, or perhaps he already knows the answer.

“I-It helped a bit.” You say, shuffling forward a step. “At first. I almost forgot it was in there.”

“‘Learn to Speak Their Language.’” He reads off the chapter title, your cheeks warming a bit. Of course he’d be there when you caught him. He stares at you over the top of the book, your gaze turned to the black TV screen. You can’t stare at him. Not right now. “Is this why you asked me to train you?”

There’s no lying to him. You already know that. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, nodding. “It was part of it. It gave me the idea, but then I realized if I’m gonna go around making stupid decisions like punching alphas, maybe I should know how to defend myself a little. I-I also thought it might help me get closer to you, at least get you to tolerate me a bit.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I can say it worked. Was more you than anything, but I was a bit touched you asked me.”

Your nervousness begins to calm as you realize he’s not angry you have the book. He’s also not angry you used it to get closer to them, to begin to integrate yourself into their pack. You set your chips down on the coffee table, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“How did you get it?” He asks.

“I called Kate.” You give him a small smile. “When she sent me the first uh...care package. That was part of it.”

He huffs, shaking his head. “Sneaky thing.”

“I mean, one of you was bound to find it eventually.” You shrug. “Thought it might be Johnny with how often he sneaks into my underwear drawer. Though, I suppose he steals them from the laundry basket more often.”

He hums, his gaze returning to the book.

“Are you really reading it?” You ask.

“‘Course.” He responds, getting comfortable in the chair again.

A smile tugs at your lips as you watch him, his focus zeroing in on the book again. You get an idea, rising from the couch to scan the shelves in the rec room. You find a manual on guns and ammunition, sitting back down with the heavy book in one hand, your chips in the other. Simon glances at you over the top of his book again as you make yourself comfortable on the other side of the couch, the title clearly visible as you turn to the first page.

“Really?” He asks, exasperated.

You shrug, glancing up at him. “It’s only fair.”

“Little shit.” He rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh as he goes back to reading your book. You sink down against the arm of the couch, using your book to hide your satisfied grin.

“It never fails to amaze me.”

“Huh?” You turn to face Johnny, a piece of popcorn falling out of your mouth from how much you've managed to stuff inside in one bite.

“How much ye can eat during your pre-heat.” He says, grabbing the piece of popcorn that landed on the couch between you.

You attempt to say something in response, but it comes out as a muffled mess around the popcorn you’re chewing. Johnny eats the piece that fell, reaching for the bowl. You move it out of his reach, pressing your foot against his side to keep him from getting too close.

“Mine.” You say, pushing against his side, trying to get him to move away from you.

He’s undeterred, using his size against you as he reaches for the bowl. A low growl rubles in your chest as you lean backwards, trying to keep it out of his reach. He freezes at the sound, staring down at you as you glare at him.

“Did ye just growl at me?” He blinks at you, his lips turning up in a grin.

You bare your teeth at him, another growl rumbling in your chest. You go for his arm, his reflexes just managing to yank it out of the way before your teeth sink into his skin.

“Alright, alright.” He says, holding up his hands as he sinks back into his spot. “I got the message.” He grins as you sit up, holding the bowl protectively against your chest. “That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls out his phone, snapping a picture as you glare at him.

Your glare deepens as you shovel more popcorn into your mouth. He nearly giggles as he stares down at his phone, tapping on the screen a few times. You push yourself up, trying to get a look at his screen. “Who are you sending that to?” You ask between mouthfuls of popcorn.

“The group chat.” He says, as if that’s not revealing news.

“Group chat?” You ask around another mouthful.

He nods. “Just the four of us fellas for blethering.”

You blink at him, trying to translate what he means in your pre-heat addled brain. “Huh?” You say stupidly, a piece of popcorn dropping back into the bowl from the handful you had been holding up halfway to your mouth.

“We like tae gossip among each other.” He says, giving you a grin.

“Do you...talk about me?” You ask before shoving the handful of popcorn in your mouth.

“All the time.” He answers, using his reflexes to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl.

You’re too distracted to care, though if your mouth hadn’t been full you might have been tempted to bite him in retaliation. “‘Bout what?” You ask, the words almost unintelligible thanks to the popcorn you’re still chewing.

“Oh, lots of things.” He grins. “How cute ye look all cozy in yer bed, how nicely yer arse looks in your skids, how we got ye to moan like that, tips on how tae make yer legs shake-” He does let out a giggle as you softly kick him in his side.

“Rude.” You pout as you curl up against the arm of the couch away from him with your bowl. “Could at least include me.”

“Aw but we need our space,” He says, leaning closer to you. “Fer all our mingin' gab.”

You give him a look, still trying to process his words as he presses a kiss to your head. He uses your distraction to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl, immediately jumping away from you as you react, letting out another growl. The popcorn bowl falls to the floor as you leap at him, ready to sink your teeth into his arm.

“You're avoiding me.”

Simon glances up at you before looking back at his computer. “Not on purpose. You know the dangers if you go into heat too close.”

He’s right. Though, you think you’d know if your heat was starting and you could get away before things got dangerous. Of course, with his sensitive instincts, he might notice before you do. Things would get ugly fast if John noticed too and tried to stop Simon. You’re not sure the betas could get to you in time to try and stop them, or at least get you away in hopes it clears their heads enough.

You look around Simon’s office, the desk shoved further back to make room for the two cots set up in the corner closest to the door. Soon he and Johnny would be shut in here, avoiding the hallway around the corner while you and John fucked nearly non-stop for the next week.

It feels different now that you’ve reached this new stage of your relationship with Simon. He’s not on the outside anymore, not separate from you. There’s a strong bond there now, one both of you have contributed to. He had made the boundary clear, even without having to say anything. He won’t take the risk of helping you. He’s not your alpha.

However, wouldn’t complain if he were the one to get to you first, to lock you in his office and throw you on the cots and fuck you stupid for the next week. You shift on your feet at the thought of taking his knot, being pumped full of him and locked together. Would he remove his mask? Would you remember his face at the end of your heat-induced haze?

He’d never forgive himself if it happened. He’d close himself off, avoid you like the plague. It would shred that fragile bond that has been set in place.

You won’t entertain those thoughts anymore. Not when he’s so clearly drawn the line.

You take half a step forward, pausing at the growl that rumbles in his chest. He’s setting another boundary, warning you of the dangers both of you pose towards each other in this delicate time.

You continue forward despite the obvious warning, pushing against the instincts telling you to heed it and stay back. Yet, he doesn't stop you as you pass his desk, slinging a leg over him and planting yourself in his lap. It’s obvious, the tension in his body as you sit there, as if you might go into heat at any second. There will be signs once it is coming on, symptoms different from ones you feel outside of heats.

You stare up into his eyes, his gaze sharp but not piercing as it once might have been. There’s a softness to it, something you might even call affection as he stares down at you.

“Will you kiss me?” You ask softly, hesitantly. “One last time? So maybe I might remember you still like me when I wake up on the other side of this?”

“I don’t think you could forget that.” He says, his hands dropping to grip your thighs.

“Still...would be nice to have one.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “For good luck?”

He hums, the sound rumbling in his chest, before he lifts a hand, pulling his mask up to his nose. He leans forward, meeting you halfway as he presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is searing, conveying a deep passion and almost a longing feeling as his lips move against yours. Does he regret his decision not to even offer to help you? You’re not sure even you would have said yes to his offer. It’s only your second heat, the second time you’ve trusted your pack to care for you in such a vulnerable position. While you don’t distrust Simon and his ability to take care of you, a deep part of you longs for your alpha and the surety and safety he’s already proven.

Simon’s hand slides up your back, brushing over your neck before cradling the back of your head. He holds you still as he licks the seam of your lips. You moan softly against his mouth, wishing you could pull him closer, wishing you could sink into him and avoid the inevitable heat lingering over your head.

A sigh is pulled from your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, taking its time to explore before flicking against your own. His other arm wraps around your back, tugging you against him, chest to chest, legs spread around his hips. Had you not been trying to rest your body, or entirely disinterested in sex currently, you might have fucked him right in this chair, one last time before you’re lost to your heat and your alpha.

He pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you both pant softly. The silence is loud, but it speaks volumes between you, sharing things you’re too scared to say out loud, things that push the boundaries of vulnerability between the two of you. There will be time afterward, plenty of time to gently push those boundaries and continue to worm your way into his most intimate thoughts.

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. You can see the dots of freckles on his skin, the shades of brown in his eyes. His breath is warm against your lips as you sit there, almost like you’re trying to commit each other to memory, as if you’ll forget about him as soon as the door seals you and John inside your room. You will forget in the throes of your heat, but once the haze fades and you come back to yourself, you’ll remember him. He won’t be far, and neither will you.

“See you on the other side?” You say, cupping his face, letting your thumb trace the line of his jaw, his stubble prickling your skin.

He leans forward, kissing you once more, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“See you on the other side.”

You’re on fire.

Sweat has soaked your skin and right through the loose shirt you had donned earlier. It’s dripping down your face, offering no relief from the lava pulsing under your skin. You’re surprised the liquid doesn’t start sizzling as it drips down your chest and arms. You’re panting softly, legs spread as you lay on the bed. There’s a steady pulsing between your legs, the ache and need beginning to steadily grow more intense as slick seeps out of you and onto the blankets below.

You woke earlier with a crawling sensation under your skin, your pajamas quickly ditched in favor of the baggy shirt to avoid the overstimulation of any tight fabric. You knew last night as soon as the ravenous hunger began to abate that you were close. Mid-bite of some potatoes the hunger had faded and suddenly they looked almost repulsive. Simon and Johnny had moved into his office and you quarantined in your room with Kyle and John on standby.

Sleep had evaded you for most of the night as you waited for it to start, expecting it to be in the middle of the night like last time. Your mind had faded in and out of sleep, expecting to wake any moment with the uncomfortable feverish heat beneath your skin.

Instead you woke early with no sign of it yet, still dry between your legs and almost cold from the always cool air in the barracks. The only sign had been the itching, crawling feeling beneath your skin.

You’d made it just past lunch, Kyle bringing in food for you, which you had struggled through, only eating to try and get some last calories into your body. The familiar electrolyte drinks and nutrition bars that will keep both you and John alive over the next week, sit in stacks next to the door, some already set up on your nightstand. Your bed has been stripped down to a sheet, your pillow, and the blanket you slept under last night. Your stuffed animals and decorative pillows sit piled on your desk in the corner.

It came on suddenly, the heat beneath your skin. The prickling sensation had begun in your core and flared outward to your very fingertips. It had been like a flushing feeling, the heat rippling through you. The book in your hands slid onto the floor as the deep cramping began, making you wince. You’re not quite sure what had been worse, the pain or the initial panic.

Your phone is on the floor with your book after you’d managed to send a text to Kyle. The panic is still bubbling under the surface as your brain begins to get foggy, its only focus the pulsing between your thighs. It’s been a while since you’ve been awake for the start of your heat. The last one had started in your sleep, and the one before that you had been sedated by the CIA, closely monitored and put under before the itching even began under your skin.

Your trembling fingers fumble with one of the electrolyte drinks on your nightstand, struggling to wrap around it and then get the cap off. It does little to soothe the dryness in your mouth, but you drink as much of it as you can.

The door opens, Kyle slipping through before quickly closing it behind him. He approaches the bed, that sympathetic look in his eyes again. He’s not sure what to say, you can tell by his hesitance, but what is there to say in this moment? ‘Good luck, hope John doesn’t accidentally hurt you?’

You don’t blame him for his silence, though you know his beta is agitated, wanting to offer you comfort and support, but he can’t. He can’t do much for you this time, only your alpha can.

Kyle bends down, picking up your phone and book from the floor before checking the charge on your phone. He sets it down on the nightstand, pulling another from his pocket and placing it down next to yours. It’s John’s personal phone. You recognize the familiar olive green case. Kyle will alternate charging them, mostly for John’s peace of mind. Not that he’ll care much about potential calls or messages while he’s knotted inside of you.

“You’ll be okay.” Kyle says, brushing the wisps of hair stuck to your forehead back. Johnny had braided it last night, his final act of comfort before retreating with Simon to their own quarantined space. Kyle must have noted the nervous edges in your scent still lingering in the air as he tries to comfort you.

You hold his hand against your face, nuzzling your cheek against his rough palm. It’s not quite enough, he’s not quite enough, but it’s no fault of his own. Your instincts are beginning to take over. The desire for an alpha, your alpha, to help you is overtaking any rational thought.

Kyle strokes your cheek for a moment before he pulls away, taking the bottle from your trembling hands and tossing it in the trash. He folds your blanket and drapes it over the footboard before setting your book on your desk.

“John knows.” He says, standing close to the door. “He’ll be in soon.”

All you can do is nod as you rub your thighs together, trying to get any ounce of friction you can. The fabric of the shirt you’re wearing is like a million tiny knives against your skin, but your hands are useless as they tug at the fabric. You can’t get your body to work enough to pull it off.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips as the door opens again. You’re still tugging at your shirt, writhing in your attempts to both remove the offending fabric from your skin and also get some relief for the pulsing between your thighs.

“Alpha...” You whine, vision zeroing in on your alpha as he stands there, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Look at you.” He rasps, taking slow steps closer and closer to you.

Another whine falls from your lips as you reach out for him, desperate to feel him against you, like his very touch could ease the fire burning beneath your skin. Your arm is shaking by the time he reaches you, his fingers brushing against your hand. A content purr rumbles in your chest as he finally touches you, rough fingers tracing your palm before continuing down the inside of your arm. A shiver shakes your body at the feeling of his rough calluses against your sensitive skin. You wish those fingers would go elsewhere, your mouth watering at the thought of them between your thighs again.

“Alpha,” You whine again as he grips your upper arm, yanking you up.

In one fluid motion he sits on your bed, tugging your body onto his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, your slick dribbling onto the front of his pants. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest, his pupils dilating as his alpha begins to come out, his alpha responding to the thick scent of your pheromones in the room.

You press against him, but it’s not enough. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the prickling of the hair on his chest against your sensitive skin. His hands trail up your sides, the drag of the fabric of your shirt against your skin making you whine. You need to feel him, not the synthetic material separating you. He slides his hands all the way up, skirting past your breasts and sensitive nipples to grip the neck of the shirt, ripping it down the center.

Your omega purrs happily at the display of strength, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as he pushes the shirt from your shoulders, freeing you from the overwhelming sensation. His hands flatten against your back, a content purr leaving your lips at the feeling of his skin against yours. You arch into him, pressing your hips against the prominent bulge in his pants. Your fingers tug at his own shirt, but you lack the strength to tear it off him, even as you paw at the fabric. You likely wouldn’t have been able to anyway outside the throes of your heat.

“Needy little thing.” He purrs, nipping at your bottom lip.

You chase his lips, kissing him harshly. His fingers dig into your back as you push your tongue into his mouth, licking at his own tongue. Your thighs clench around his hips at the thought of that tongue between your legs, more slick soaking the front of his pants as it gushes out of you.

His hands slide down to grip your hips, dragging your slit along the front of his jeans. You moan at the delicious friction, pulling away from his mouth to kiss down his throat. His beard tickles your skin as he tilts his head, bearing his throat to you. A low growl rumbles through your chest as he allows himself to be in such a vulnerable position. You’re shaking in his arms as he guides your hips to grind against his pants, legs clenching around his hips. You’re close, the pulsing beneath your veins getting stronger and stronger.

“Gonna cum like this?” He growls, his grip almost bruising on your hips. “Without me even touching you? Make yourself cum and I’ll give you what you need.”

Your heat-addled brain somehow comprehends his words, picking out the parts it needs as you shift on his lap, dragging your clit against the seam of his jeans. Your face presses against his throat, devouring his scent straight from the source. It goes right to your head, the earthy scent nearly indistinguishable from the musk of his rut.

Your body shudders as your first orgasm rocks you, slick gushing out of you like a tidal wave. You sink your teeth into his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin.

“Son of a-” He curses, delivering a harsh slap to your bare ass. “Fuckin’ naughty little omega.”

You grin, lapping at the teeth marks you’ve left on his skin as you press your ass into his hand. Your orgasm has provided a little relief, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Not until you have his knot inside you.

You tug at his shirt again, bunching the fabric in your hands. “Off.” You whine, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

He finally acquiesces, pushing you back far enough to tug his shirt off. Drool drips down your chin as you stare at the skin now exposed to you. You can’t help yourself as you lean forward, licking your way across his collarbones and his chest. You slide off his lap, kneeling between his legs as you lick your way down his chest, dragging your tongue across his soft stomach.

He grips the back of your neck, pulling you away from his skin. Your tongue is still sticking out, almost like it’s trying to taste every last bit of him that might be in the air. “Fuck.” He groans, pushing you back as he moves to stand.

You grab his hand before he can fully stand, tugging with surprising strength. He falls into you, both of you falling back onto the floor in a mess of limbs. Your omega scratches in the back of your brain, your gaze sharpening as you wrestle with him, finally managing to pin him on the floor.

His eyes are almost black, a dangerous growl rumbling in his chest. Slick dribbles out of you, smearing on his stomach as you return his growl, baring your teeth at him. You want him to submit, you need him to submit to you. Your omega doesn't care about the obvious challenge, the stupidity of trying to control a rutting alpha.

Yet, he goes lax beneath you, his gaze still sharp and cautious as he stares at you.

Your growl softens into a purr as he relaxes, submitting to you for a moment. You bend down again, your tongue flattening against his skin once more. Your eyes are locked on his as you lick the beading sweat on his chest, purring at the saltiness of it on your tongue. You continue your way down his body, following the path down his chest and across his stomach. His eyes leave yours, watching the wiggle of your bare ass as you crawl backwards, continuing to lick across his stomach until you reach the puddle of shiny slick streaked across his skin.

He lets out a rumbling purr as you lap at your own slick. It’s sweet from your pheromones, yet there’s the familiar tang of your natural taste on your tongue as you clean the mess you’ve made on your alpha’s skin.

As soon as you deem his skin clean enough you continue downward, licking at the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers are shaking as you paw at his pants, trying to get your fingers to work to remove the last barrier between you. You need your alpha’s cock, you need to see it, to taste it. Your mouth is watering as you fumble helplessly, unable to handle such fine motor skills when all your brain is screaming to do is fuck.

He pushes your hands out of the way, undoing his pants easily. He wiggles them down enough until his cock has sprung free, heavy and almost throbbing on his stomach. You stare at it wide eyed, drool slipping down your chin as you stare at it. You need it, you need his knot now, the burning under your skin intensifying from how close you are to finally getting what you need. You wrap your hand around his heavy length, the tip already leaking as you lean down, dragging your tongue from his balls to the tip. He lets out a groan as you close your lips around the head, flicking your tongue across his slit.

You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across his head once more before lifting yourself and shifting over his hips. You hold his gaze as you drag his cock through your folds, your needy brain searching for the spot you need. You let out a whine as you find it, his head catching on your entrance. You don’t hesitate, a long, desperate sounding whine falling from your lips as you sink down onto his length.

It goes in easily, your body opening to him eagerly, your slick aiding the process as it gushes down the length of his cock. You make it halfway before pausing, breathing for a moment before you sink the rest of the way down.

Your pussy flutters around him, a whimper leaving your lips. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch of his cock inside of you. It’s still not enough, it’s still not what you need, but it does ease the ache throbbing in your pelvis.

He lays there, eyes hooded as he watches you, content to let yourself use him in your needy state for now. Your hands press against his stomach as he sinks almost impossibly deep inside you, your hips settling against his. He reaches up, pressing against the bulge in your pelvis, your hips jerking at the shock of pleasure that thrums through you.

He lets out a pleased rumble as you squeeze around him, slick dribbling out around the base of his cock. “Be a good omega, take what you need.” He commands, his alpha rough around the edges of his voice.

Your hands press firmly against his stomach, using him for leverage as you begin to move, lifting your hips and then letting them drop. Quiet whimpers leave your lips with every movement as his cock drags along your walls. The ache in your bones is finally starting to ease, the burning itch beneath your skin fading. You rock on your alpha’s cock, using his body for your pleasure as he lays there, content to watch you.

The low rumble in his chest vibrates through you, inaudible under your desperate whines and the squelch of your pussy on his cock, but you can feel it in your hands, your subconscious picking up on it in a way you can’t understand. It only adds to the pleasure coursing through you, your clit throbbing from the friction against his jeans earlier.

You’re tired, your legs shaking as you begin to slow down. The need pulsing through you is strong, but your heat-addled body is not. You whine desperately as you grind on his cock, seeking out any sort of pleasure you can get as your legs give out, too exhausted and weak to continue.

“What’s the matter?” John says, lips pulling up in a smirk. “Poor little omega getting tired? Can’t fuck herself on my cock anymore?”

“Please...” You whine, nearly crying in desperation. “Need your knot alpha.”

“Then take it.” He says, not making any move to help you.

“Can’t,” You whine. “Need you to do it. Need you to take care of me.”

He lets out a growl at your confession, his hands finally moving to your hips. He pulls you off of his cock, flipping you around so you’re on your knees, upper body pressed against the floor. You push your ass up as high as you can for him, presenting for your alpha. He lets out a pleased rumble, his fingers dragging through your slick coated slit. You whine needily, pushing back against his hand.

“Easy.” He says, pressing close behind you. “Alpha’s got you.”

Your eyes nearly roll back as he sinks into you again, the change in position nearly making you see stars as he begins fucking in you, the snap of his hips against yours rocking your body on the carpet. Your knees burn but you can hardly feel it as he fucks you through an orgasm, your walls clenching desperately around his cock. Your brain is going hazy again as you feel the swelling at the base of his cock pushing up against your entrance, drool pooling on the carpet beneath you as you wait for it, wait for him to push his knot inside you and tie the two of you together.

“Alpha...alpha...” You chant the title like a mantra, the sounds slurring together as you push back against him.

“Take it,” He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you steady in place. He pushes against you, his knot stretching your pussy as he begins pushing it into you. “Take it...good girl.”

You whine as his knot pops into place, your body shuddering with another orgasm from the gaping stretch around him. He grinds his hips against you, his knot tugging at the entrance of your pussy as you clench tightly around him. He cums with a groan, his body falling over yours as he spurts his seed into you. You lay there, whining and panting beneath him, sweat still dripping down your back.

Your brain is starting to float away, your mind going hazy again, but you’re not fighting it this time. You’re giving into your instincts, unable to do anything but submit to them, submit to your alpha.

“I’ve got you.” Price says softly, gently brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face that have fallen loose from your braid.

You give into the haze, trusting him to take care of you.

You’re not sure when you moved to the bed. It’s the crackle of the mattress protector that’s pulled you from your haze for a moment. One of those rare moments of clarity post-knot as you come back into your brain enough to be semi-aware of your surroundings. You won’t remember it by the time you come out of your heat, lost in the mush of hazy memories from the week.

Your pussy is pulsing around John’s knot, his chest pressed into your back. You still feel hot, feverish as you lay there half out of it. John’s right arm is under you, wrapped around so his hand is against your chest. He’s holding the cap of an electrolyte bottle in his right hand, the plastic cool against your heated skin.

There’s hands moving in front of you, pulling a charging cord from one phone to put it in the other. There’s voices, but you’re too far in the haze to understand what they’re saying. There’s a scent in the air, clearer and softer than the heavy musk that’s settled in the room. It goes straight to your head, nearly making you black out again. You want to taste it, your tongue darting out to lick your lips.

Your hand shoots out, surprising even you with how fast it’s moved. Your brain feels slow as it tries to catch up with the movement, your fingers wrapped around someone’s wrist. Your hand has a mind of its own as it pulls the wrist closer, pressing it against your face.

A soft, fresh scent fills your nose, your eyes fluttering as it pulses through you, your pussy convulsing around John’s knot. He groans behind you, his hips shifting just slightly in response. Your tongue darts out, licking at the wrist pressed against your face, trying to taste the scent.

Salty, briney, fresh. The sea, you remember from the haze in your mind. It smells like the sea. You continue to lick it, wanting it to consume you, to sink into your brain and ease the aching need.

“Careful, love.” A soft voice says, cutting through the scent-induced haze you’re in.

The attached body tries to pull the wrist in your grip away, but you let out a whine, fingers tightening around it as you pull it closer. You drag your tongue against the skin again, letting out a quiet whine. You need it, your hand trembling around his wrist.

The word feels heavy on your tongue, your heat-addled, scent drunk brain trying to form it on your lips, pushing it from your mind until it vibrates in the air audibly. The process feels like it takes minutes, when in reality it was likely only seconds. You tug on the wrist again, trying to bring the source closer.

“Stay.”

NEXT ->

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

#call of duty #cod fic #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 #John price x reader #captain John price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse

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brailsthesmolgurl · 4 months ago

Text

"It's priced reasonably..."

Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)

SYLUS

The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.

Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."

RAFAYEL

Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.

Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"

XAVIER

Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.

But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.

ZAYNE

You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.

"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus

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cornfieldsrambles · 1 year ago

Note

YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT WIGGLY'S SIBLINGS???? THAT HE APPARENTLY HAS????

omg ok SO

Meet the Lords in Black. Charming, aren't they?

Yes, Wiggly does indeed have four brothers who all do different things, so I'll cover them one by one, in order of introduction (since we've already met each of them in Nightmare Time at least once). BTW Nightmare Time has a fuckton of lore in it that I won't go into here, so even though I am about to spoil significant parts of it for you, I do recommend watching it, it's really good and if there's enough interest they might make a third one!

(Also you might notice they're all in doll form in this picture. This is how we knew them up until NPMD introduced us to what I call their Tumblr sexyman forms. Which are rad as hell by the way.)

So you already know Wiggly. That little green fucker, Wiggog Y'Wrath, the Capitalist Cthulu who does uwu-speak and starts a cult by invading people's minds. This will become a bit of a reoccurring theme with these guys. He's also the only one to successfully start an apocalypse, and the only one to have attempted to birth himself into our reality. (Or is he? We'll get to that...) He does seem to have some kind of dominion over the other LiB, as whenever all five of them show up there's always emphasis placed on him, like in NPMD where he does most of the talking while his siblings occasionally butt in.

Now for Bliklotep. Blinky seems to have slightly lower-scale ambitions than Wiggly, but don't let that fool you. Eyeball Boi is still incredibly dangerous. He runs an amusement park, WatcherWorld, deep within the Hatchetfield Witchwood. But it's not for the amusement of the patrons. Oh no. It's for Blinky's own amusement. Once you step inside, every insecurity, every shred of potential conflict will be ripped to the forefront, turning people against each other to the point of trying to kill each other until he's fully infected their minds. It's implied that, if not all, but a significant chunk of the workers at WatcherWorld were once patrons before having their minds taken over by Blinky. He's also implied to be the thing in Trail To Oregon that Jack Bauer sees during his venom-induced hallucination, as Blinky is referred to as "The Watcher With 1,000 Eyes", which is exactly what JB says he sees? Making Blinky the only LiB to induce a Starkid crossover. My headcanon is that the Dikrats founded Hatchetfield. But regardless.

Next up on the roster is Tinky. T'noy Karaxis, the Time Bastard. You may be wondering about that one line in NPMD where he recognised Pete as a Spankoffski, and said he "could have the whole set in his toybox". Has Tinky gone after Pete's relatives?

Well. Um. You know Ted, right? Yeah, his name is Spankoffski. He's Pete's big brother. We actually got the surname reveal before the brother reveal, lol. And that's not the only reveal we got about Ted. Our boy Teddy Bear has this whole entire tragic backstory and it turns out he gets fucked over in literally every timeline! Isn't that fun?

So, to summarise an entire episode: Tinky makes travel fuckery happen, Ted wants to go back in time to fix his life, accidentally goes back to before the time machine was created and gets stuck in the past, literally. Tinky is watching and laughing at the whole thing, then shows up to blow Ted's brain to smithereens with his weird little magic box, the Bastard's Box, where he stores all the people he toys with. Anyway Ted eventually catches up with the present by aging, except now no one knows who he is, he's... actually I won't spoil that. But once he dies he ends up eternally trapped and tortured in the Bastard's Box. Yaaay.

Fast forward to Nightmare Time 2 and we get introduced to Nibbly, in possibly the most unexpected way imaginable. He's revealed to have been behind a whole episode literally right at the end of said episode, and even though it was kind of foreshadowed, it hits you like a freight train in the best way. Remember when I said Wiggly was the only one who tried to birth himself into reality? That was kind of a lie. Nibblenephim can sort of do that anyway. Every year, he can possess a bunch of carcasses and create a living form to walk the earth for one night. He also has a cult of followers who provide him with the carcasses, as well as a sacrifice to feed on. There's a little more to it, specifically with how the sacrifice is chosen, but again, I'm trying to spoil as little as possible. Go watch Nightmare Time. Nibbly also seems to have a "pig" motif, and his theme song, The Nibbly Ditty, is a banger, easily my favourite of the three LiB theme songs we've heard so far.

And finally, we are introduced to Pokotho, in the very last episode of NMT2.

Except no. We were formally introduced to Pokey there, yes, but we've seen his apocalypse already. Long before NPMD, before Nightmare Time, even before Black Friday.

Yeah, remember me saying that Wiggly was the only one to successfully start an apocalypse? That was also a lie! Pokey already did that, and he did it without ever showing his masked face. Remember The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals? The blue spores that came down in a meteor and turned everyone into singing zombies? That was Pokey's doing! That's his blue spores! That's his apocalypse!

This also provides an explanation for why blowing up the meteor didn't work. Emma and Hidgens were right about the hivemind thing, but wrong about the location of the central brain. It wasn't the meteor - the meteor was just the vessel which carried the spores to Earth. The central brain was sitting safely up in the Black and White, laughing as Paul blew himself to smithereens. The central brain was Pokey, the Singular Voice, the most uncompromising of his brothers. The one who hates every voice that is not his own, hence the hivemind and making all of his zombies speak in HIS voice.

Anyway in NMT2 he's happily collecting musical zombies by taking on a human form and infiltrating a fighting ring of superpowered children until he has enough to kickstart another apocalypse. (Don't question it, we're almost done). He also calls himself Otho, not Pokey, making him the only LiB to have two different abbreviations of his name. Hannah is also there (remember her? Lex's little sister?) and she is like incredibly important to this whole thing, she has a super powerful mind, but that's a whole other thing.

But I did mention Hannah for a reason. Because you said "Wiggly's SIBLINGS". And while the Lords in Black are always referred to as brothers, they do have one more sibling. A sister. A Queen in White. And her name is Webby.

Yep, Hannah's imaginary friend isn't imaginary, who could have guessed? She's benevolent, always trying her best to combat her brothers' antics, but given that there's one of her and five of them, this is a bit of an uphill battle. Webby doesn't have a full name that we know of, nor does she have a doll. We don't know much about her. And she may not be all-powerful - but then again, neither are her brothers.

Infodump concluded. Hope this helps, it was very fun to write.

#the lords in black #hatchetfield #starkid #nightmare time #nmt2 #nightmare time 2 #wiggog y'wrath #t'noy karaxis #bliklotep #nibblenephim #pokotho #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #the guy who didn't like musicals #black friday

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago

Text

Where JJK Men Are Sensitive

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi

Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...

A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time).

Suguru Geto

Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~

Yuta Okkotsu

Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time.

Yuji Itadori

Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him.

Megumi Fushiguro

Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that.

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suiana · 7 months ago

Text

(yandere! co-actor x gn! co-actor reader) (theyre co-stars who act as lovers n have to act like they love each other but they actually don't)

"but oh, darling, how i adore your face in all its glory..."

"cut!"

your co-actor immediately pulls away from you, face scrunching up in disgust as he completely refuses to acknowledge your presence. you do the same, wiping your hand with a cloth as you walk to the opposite side of the set.

yes, the two of you were co-stars who secretly hated each other. shocking.

to be honest, it was shocking because you didn't hate him initially. you had actually admired him and even wanted to act together in a movie! he was once your idol after all.

and by some stroke of luck, your manager had gotten you the opportunity to be a co-star on a romance-horror movie that was predicted to be the biggest film of all time.

but now that you had achieved that dream... you really wish it hadn't come true. for people's facades come down once you get to know them.

you and him did not get along at all. constantly butting heads, fighting over the littlest of things... yet, you two manage to act out the roles of obsessed lovers who would die for one another.

the fact that the movie was about how you (the love interest) and him (the male lead) were dating and how he would go crazy and stuff-

ugh you can't believe you had to act this out! you're too annoyed to even think straight now! like, what kind of false reality is this?!

...

well i mean, it is kinda your job as an actor to sell a false reality but still! the way you two can pull a 180 each time you have to get on set is crazy!

"oi you, don't breath all up in my face next time. yoy are repulsive."

"we're literally supposed to stand close to one another! how am i not supposed to do that-"

"then don't breathe."

"you two stop it!"

the director barks at the two of you, shaking his head as the both of you roll your eyes. seriously, to everyone else it looks like little kids who are fighting over the smallest of things. how childish!

"we're gonna be filming the next scene. get in position!"

you begrudgingly walk over to the middle of the set at the familiar phrase, getting into place as your co-star unwillingly holds you in an intimate pose. with him pressed up against a wall and you pinning him up against said wall.

you shudder in disgust as the cameras begin rolling once more. ew, you really can't understand what you used to see in him. like he's so dramatic and sassy! what-

"ack!"

your eyes widen as you see him shiver fearfully, a spider crawling on his head. what the hell?! where did this spider come from?!

you wanted to back away from your co-star but the second you saw how his eyes started to water, the way his lower lip trembled... you knew you couldn't just leave him to suffer. even when you hated him.

"don't move..."

you mumble, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you use a shaky hand to approach the spider. hm... it's not like you were scared it's just... why's it so big?

you gulp nervously, eyes widening slightly as you watch the spide crawl up your arm. damn, if you were a bit more of a coward...

you set the spider on a nearby desk, humming softly as you let out a shaky sigh of relief. oh well, at least it's over.

as you were drinking some water, your co actor couldn't help but feel his heart race, cheeks flushed red as he tries to regulate his breathing. what the hell? why is he getting so flustered over you getting close to him?

his eyes drift to your figure, taking in your carefree attitude. he quickly looks away as your eyes glance at his staring. hiding his face in his hands, he huffs and turns around, grumbling something about you as he feels his heart rate spike even more.

all he can think about as the rest of the shoot goes on was whether you had looked this beautiful before.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere co-actor #yandere co-actor x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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teaandspite · 3 months ago

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The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

#the diss list #book review #goodreads #tumblrarians #literary criticism #library #bargepole

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y3sterdaysproblem · 18 days ago

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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter two

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 2.5k

part one

“Like this?”

“No! Like… move your hips over.”

“Chris, this feels wrong!”

“Yeah, because it’s you! Come on, just come here for the picture.”

You groan and scoot closer to Chris on the bed, slinging your leg over his hips. He was laid flat on his back and you were on your side facing him. You guys had agreed on pretending to be each others’ significant others for a short amount of time, and right now you were trying to get all the pictures you could. This was the third photo position you guys had gotten yourselves into, each one getting more intimate than the last. Your mindset was, the more pictures you took at once, the less you’d have to spend time together.

“Okay, take your picture,” you tell him, throwing your arm over his torso and looking up at him.

Chris looks down at you, your faces inches away from each other. “God, you’re so impatient. Don’t you just wanna cuddle like this for a minute?” He smirks a little before grabbing his phone with his left hand, placing his right hand on your bare thigh, snapping the picture like that.

“Okay, good. Now, uh… I don’t think you’re gonna like this next one,” Chris pushes your leg off of him and you sit up, peering down at him.

“Fuck you,” you say harshly. “What now?”

He smiles and pats his lap, and your jaw drops. “No,” you shake your head. “No way, I’m not getting on your lap.”

Chris groans. “I am not going to get hard at the thought of you on top of me if that’s what you’re worried about,” he promises.

“Yeah, well, you already think I’m hot so I don’t know,” you tell him, disgusted. “Can’t we do something else?”

Chris reaches out and pinches the back of your arm, clearly unamused. “Dude, I didn’t say I personally think you’re hot, I said you’re hotter than this chick. Big difference. Besides, I’m hot, too, and you know it, so come on, sit on daddy’s lap.”

You grimace at his word choice. “That just made me want to do it even less,” you say, but despite your words, you scoot closer until you’re next to him, then swing your leg over him and sit on his lap, your crotch sitting directly above his dick.

“See?” He smiles, reaching out to place a hand on your thigh again, even though the camera wasn’t out yet. “This isn’t so bad, right?”

You can’t help it when your throat goes dry at the feeling of his hand on your leg, and he was partially right. Matt was attractive, Nick was attractive, and unfortunately the short end of the stick with that reality was that Chris was also attractive, though you’d never say those words out loud.

You snap out of it quickly and grab your own phone to distract yourself, but Chris reaches up and grabs your phone out of your hands, putting it on the bed next to him. “Gotta look interested in me, baby,” he coos.

You groan and cross your arms, body shaking slightly as you did so, making Chris suck in a quiet breath. “Don’t call me baby, we’re not actually together.”

“Stop wiggling, yeah?” He asks you, hand on your thigh gripping tighter than it was before.

You raise your eyebrows at him, staring down with a clear attitude present on your face. “I thought you would be fine and not get hard.” You mocked him.

Chris meets your eyes. “I said I wouldn’t get hard at the thought of you but you keep moving around and I only have so much self control.”

You cringe, focusing your attention on your lower half where you no doubt start to feel the beginnings of an erection forming where your bodies met. “Can you hurry please?”

Chris picks his phone back up and opens his camera, but couldn’t resist the nasty comment that sat on his tongue, begging to be spoken. “Maybe I just wanna feel you a little longer.”

Your jaw drops, face heating up uncontrollably. “Chris!”

Chris rolls his eyes at your aggressive tone. “Just kidding, jeez. Here, put your hands here.” He pulls up the hoodie to make it look like he’s shirtless and then grabs your hands, placing them both on his stomach so you’re leaning over him, your cleavage peeking through the neckline of your shirt. With the angle change and your weight shifted onto your hands, part of you wanted to tease him, and you had no idea what was coming over you in the moment, probably just the fact that you hadn’t been in this position in so long and you were craving the attention and validation of a man, wanting to feel someone fall apart underneath you, but you quickly remind yourself who you’re dealing with when he speaks again. “Oh perfect,” he says, holding his phone up to take the picture. “That’s definitely going in my spank bank.”

“Ew, Chris!” You screech at him, smacking him on the head before standing up off the bed completely. “We’re done for right now, you’re insanely gross.”

Chris laughs at you and pulls his hoodie down, sitting up on the bed. He moved quickly, but you caught on to the quick dip of his hand in his sweatpants, clearly waistbanding his dick, but you don’t mention it and he sure as hell doesn’t either. “I’m just messing with you,” he says.

“Yeah well I’m over it,” you huff, crossing your arms again.

“Alright, get out of my room then,” Chris points to the door, and you happily oblige, leaving his room and heading up the stairs, making your way to Matt’s room where you find him sitting at his desk playing games and Nick laid on the bed playing on his phone.

Matt turns his head and smiles at you. “Hey, love. How’s being Chris’s girlfriend going?”

You groan loudly and drag your hands down your face. “Fucking terrible!” You cry. “He’s so pervy and gross and just awful to be around. I don’t know how you guys deal with him all day every day.”

Nick laughs in response. “We actually like him and he likes us.”

You shudder and grab the blankets from underneath your body, shimmying under them. “I’m taking a nap, hopefully that’ll cleanse me from the objectification I’ve endured.”

Both the boys laugh at you and go back to what they’re doing as you get comfortable and close your eyes.

Before you dozed off you found yourself wondering what things would be like if Chris wasn’t so annoying and how life would be if the two of you got along. Would you guys actually stand a chance at being in a relationship? Would either of you have feelings for each other that weren’t so negative? You’ve never thought about these possibilities before, and though it scared you slightly, you brushed it aside and let yourself drift off to sleep.

The four of you sat around the kitchen table later that night eating Italian food that Matt had gone and picked up, and the room was silent apart from the chewing noises that filled the air. You know the food is good if everyone is quiet you always say. But unfortunately, the sweet silence is interrupted by Chris clearing his throat and setting his fork down.

“So,” he starts, looking towards you. “I’m thinking we go on a date.”

You almost choke on your food, eyes widening. “What?!” You yell, mouth still full of food.

“Ew, swallow first. And yes, but not a real date, obviously. My idea is you can go to a fancy restaurant with Matt or something and he can take pictures of you looking all dressed up and just send them to me.” Chris suggests, and it’s not the worst idea in the world. Free dinner in a nice restaurant with your best friend? Sounds like a win win to you.

“You should’ve led with that, fuckface. Almost made me choke,” you tell him with furrowed eyebrows, wiping your mouth with your napkin.

“I typically do make women choke,” he replies with a smirk.

Everyone at the table groans in disgust at his dirty comment. “Too much,” Nick says loudly, waving his hands in the air.

Chris just laughs. “So is that a yes?”

You look at Matt and he shrugs his shoulders. “I’m fine with it,” he tells you, and you nod your head in agreement.

“Great!” Chris smiles, clapping his hands together. “I’ll make reservations for you guys and let you know when it is.”

You guys both nod and go back to eating your dinner.

After everyone was done eating, you guys migrated to the couch, where you ended up sandwiched between Matt and Chris, though Chris left a decent amount of space as opposed to Matt who sat nearly hip to hip with you.

“What are we watching?” You ask, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and throwing it over yours and Matt’s body.

“Get a room,” Chris grumbles, looking over at you and Matt snuggled up under the blanket.

You look towards him and smile. “If you wanna cuddle with me just say that,” you tease, kicking your feet up onto his lap.

He instantly shoves your legs off of him and scoots farther away from you. “Gross, get your feet off of me. You wish I wanted to cuddle with you, slut.”

Matt and Nick both whip their head up to look at Chris, and he immediately drops his head down towards his lap, knowing he fucked up. “Chris,” Matt spits. “Too fucking far, apologize or get the fuck out.”

“Matt, it’s fine,” you tell him, tucking your legs close to your body. Chris had never really gone that far, but you weren’t super surprised by the words he said, though it stung a little bit.

“No, it isn’t. I get you guys have your little arguments but that’s not okay,” Matt tells him again, voice as stern as the first time.

Chris sighs and picks his head back up, but only focuses on the tv in front of him, still not playing anything. “Sorry, didn’t mean to call you a slut.” He mumbles.

You just nod your head and look over at Nick and then look up at Matt. “Can we just put something on please?”

They agree and start scrolling through the streaming services, trying to find something to put on.

If you tried to think about it, you never really could pinpoint the exact moment you and Chris started acting like this, it just kind of became your guys’ normal. You’d all known each other since high school, and you clicked with Nick and Matt instantly, and you always thought Chris would come around, but he never did and your relationship never got any better. The more you hung around, the more hostile your relationship got, and the more you adapted.

It started as teasing, a “shut up” here, a “you’re so annoying” there, but as you guys continued to see each other, it just got meaner and meaner, and you’re so used to it now that you can’t imagine life without it, which is why it was so hard to imagine how he was going to act at this wedding when he had to pretend he didn’t hate you.

You guys ended up just putting on a movie you’d never seen, some chick flick rom com that only you and Nick were interested in, so you weren’t surprised when Matt and Chris grabbed their phones and started their endless scroll, until Chris looked up and over towards you.

“Hey,” he starts quietly, and you turn your head to look at him. “Can you, uh.. can you come take a picture with me? She’s texting me right now and thinks I’m lying about you. Which I guess I am, but, whatever. Just for a second?”

You think about it for a couple of moments, not really sure if cuddling up with Chris in front of his brothers is something you necessarily want to do right now, but you also don’t want to ruin the deal you two had made with each other, so you lightly nod your head and remove the blanket that covered you and Matt, scooting closer to Chris.

“How do you want to do this?” You asked him, and he just patted his leg.

“Just put your legs over mine and scoot real close, that’ll be fine. I can snap it really quick,” he says, and you oblige, scooting a bit closer than before and swinging both of your legs over one of his, draped over his thigh. You leaned your body into his, and he placed his hand on your thigh, tucked between both of your legs.

“Good?” You ask, eyes flitting up over his face. He nods and lifts his phone up to take a photo, taking a couple before looks over at you and reaches your gaze.

He takes a deep breath while staring at you, hand still resting on your thigh. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice low so his brothers couldn’t hear, but it was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “I really didn’t mean to call you that, it just slipped out.”

You’re shocked at the fact that he offered an actual apology, considering the fact that he’d never said sorry unless his brothers had told him to, so something about this felt a little bit more genuine than usual.

You offer him a tight lipped smile and nod your head. “I forgive you,” you tell him just as quietly.

He pulls his hand out from your thighs and taps your leg lightly. “Good, now go back to cozying up with my brother before I throw up.”

You laugh and do as he says, moving away from him and back towards Matt, who smiles sweetly at you, taking up the same position as you had with Chris, placing the blanket back over you both.

As you sat there and watched the movie, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances towards Chris, watching as he played with his lip with his free hand while he scrolled, or how he giggled to himself every time he saw a video that he found cute. The way he peeked up at the tv every so often to see what was happening, then went back on his phone to pretend he wasn’t interested in the cheesy movie.

What you were completely clueless to, though, was the way he did the same thing to you, watching as you laughed along with Nick, or how you cuddled closer into his brother, his hand rubbing your arm sweetly and habitually. He even watched the way your eyes started to flutter towards the end of the movie, clearly too tired to head home, just like most nights.

Maybe you weren’t that bad or annoying, but he was so deep in it now that he felt he could never turn back, never admit that maybe one day he’d like to be close to you like you were to his brothers. He had no idea that you’d take him up on that offer in a heartbeat.

a/n: part two!!! thanks for all the love on part one!!

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @m-sgirl @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @avasturniolos @hornyformatt @sturnlsstuff

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #chris x you #smoke and mirrors

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sitepathos · 2 months ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 4: The Deal (Warning: this chapter will feature violence. Read at your own risk)

A/N: had free time this week to produce this. Next week is chock full of tests and midterms, so this’ll probably be the last chapter for some time. Enjoy! Also, I’m sorry to those who asked to be added to the tag list and weren’t. I tried to add many of you, but Tumblr wasn’t able to find your blog for whatever reason.

When you open your eyes, darkness goes on forever in all directions, the only thing you can see is yourself. Where are you and how did you get here?

“Hello,” you call out, hoping someone is nearby to hear you, not caring who hears you just as long as someone comes to you. “Is there anyone here?”

Nothing, which you expected, but you had hoped against reality that someone was here… wherever here is. The cold air surges through your body and you shiver, your teeth chattering, echoing in the void.

“What happened,” you ask yourself. “How’d I get here?”

Just then, your memory kicks in and images and words assault your mind all at once: walking through the East End, the three thugs, the dirty shack in the middle of the woods you had been dragged to, and—

“Oh my god,” you say as the final memory flashes before your eyes. “They killed me.”

That’s right, the flash of the muzzle and the sound of the gunshot still rattling in your head. And if you think hard enough, you can vaguely remember falling to the floor after the bullet entered your head.

“Wait,” you say, realizing something very important. “If they shot me, then why am I here?”

Sure, you aren’t religious (all beliefs in a just and loving god died after you lost your Momma and was forced to live in an abusive and neglectful household for thirteen years), but this dark and neverending void is a far cry from the bright and golden imagery that’s always been associated with heaven. And this sure isn’t the fire and brimstone that comes to mind when you think of hell. So, is this purgatory? Or limbo? You never could keep the two straight.

Is this your fate? To spend the rest of your afterlife alone in this abyss? Why couldn’t you just cease altogether? Was it too much to ask that you just close your eyes and never wake from your eternal slumber?

You realize you’re crying and you’re amazed that after crying so much throughout your life, you still have plenty of tears to shed, even in the afterlife. But that’s been your lot in life since you lost Momma: to be the world’s punching bag.

“Such powerful emotions,” a familiar voice says.

You look up in shock and see your Momma, looking exactly the same as the day she was taken from you.

“Momma,” you exclaim, rushing to her and embracing her, squeezing her as hard as your arms will allow, afraid that if you let go, she’ll disappear.

“This form brings out such joy, sadness, and loss in you,” she says. “Feelings from someone alive are far more vibrant than from someone deceased.”

“What,” you asks, looking up at her in confusion, but when you do, it’s not your Momma you see looking down at you, but Bruce. You let go of the man as quick as you can and put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“What did you do to my Momma, you son of a bitch,” you shout in disgust.

“This form brings out such anger, pain, and hatred in you,” Bruce says, looking you up and down as if dissecting you like a damn lab experiment. “How interesting.”

“What the hell are you talking about? How’d you get here and what did you do to Momma?”

“And it’s not just this form.” You see movement all around you and in perfect unison, the other members of the Wayne Family appear from the void. “You hold these forms in equal amounts of hatred and contempt.”

“You deem this one a failure,” Bruce says.

“This one a hypocrite,” Dick says.

“This one a brute,” Jason says.

“This one a know-it-all,” Tim says.

“This one a stranger,” Barbara says.

“This one annoying,” Stephanie says, before turning to Cassandra. “And while you’ve never heard that one speak, you deem her a freak.”

“And you deem this one a monster,” Damian says. He gestures to Bruce. “You hate this form and that one in equal measure, far surpassing the others.”

You see another figure step out of the void and when you make out the face, it’s Alfred. You feel relief surge through your body, happy to see the butler; if there’s anyone who you can depend on, it’s him.

“While this one serves the others, you hold great respect for this form,” Alfred says. “Although, you hold a not insignificant amount of resentment towards him.”

Your heart skips a little at the accusation. No, you love the man, who took the place of a father when Bruce failed to fill the void left by your Momma’s death; sure, you’ve had the occasional thought that if the man was given a choice between you and them, he’d choose them over you since he’s always helping them, but he’s always been there for you since day one!

“No,” you say, pleading with the man. “Alfred, I don’t!”

“But you do,” the butler responds. “According to you, he is the true master of your prison, but instead of using his power to make them acknowledge your existence, he allows them to continue parading through Gotham, fighting criminals.”

“You also believe all these forms belong in Arkham,” Bruce adds. “And that you wish to be the one to subject them to electroshock therapy.”

You finally realize that something’s wrong here. All of them have never been in your presence long enough for you to say how you feel about them (not that they’d care, anyway) and you’ve never told Alfred how you often daydream of locking them away in Gotham, strapping them to metal chairs, and flipping the switch to send hundreds of volts through their skulls, hoping to shock them into being decent human beings. All this has been kept in your head for well over a decade.

So, how the hell did they know all this?

“You’re not them, are you?”

“No,” Not-Bruce answers. “We only took the forms of those you see before you.”

“Then who the fuck are you,” you growl. “And where the fuck am I?”

“We have no name,” Not-Alfred says.

“We are one, and yet we are many,” Not-Damian finishes.

“It is impossible to define a being such as us,” Not-Jason chimes in.

“Alright, that doesn’t answer my question,” you mutter to yourself, but say it loud enough for them to hear. “Then answer me this: where am I? The last thing I remember was being shot by three thugs.”

“Yes, we know of your attack,” Not-Stephanie says.

“As for your question, we are appearing to you in your mind,” Not-Bruce says.

“My mind,” you exclaim. “How?”

“When you appeared to us, we reached out and established a link with you,” Not-Tim explains. “It is from there that we were able to peer into your mind and see your memories.”

“My memories,” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Not-Damian responds. “Through your memories, we saw these forms and assumed them. We thought it would be more preferable for you to speak to us if we took the appearance of the people who have the most influence on your life.”

“If you looked through my memories, then you should know I want nothing to do with any of them,” you snap at them.

“We know now that we were in error,” Not-Bruce responds, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. “We owe you many thanks. Never before have we been put into a situation where have known the sensation of being incorrect. We will ponder this experience for years to come.”

“So, what do you really look like.”

All of them look at one another, unsure how to answer your question.

“We are not sure if you wish to see our true form,” Not-Alfred responds.

“While you are the first sentient being we’ve interacted with in our entire existence, we know that our true form is something many of your kind would consider… terrifying,” Not-Stephanie adds.

“I don’t care,” you snap. “I’m not talking to any of you while you look like this and I sure as hell don’t want you taking Momma’s form! And if we’re going to talk, we’re gonna do it face to face!”

“Very well,” Not-Bruce acquiesces.

And with that, everything fades to black and for a moment, you’re scared you’ll be left here in the dark by yourself again. Maybe you should’ve let them stay like that.

Just then, above you, you see an odd red glow. You look up and you feel your blood freeze, your heart stop, and the air catches in your lungs. Above you is a giant mass of red, bioluminescent flesh hanging from a cave ceiling, thick black tendrils extruding from it and digging deep into the surrounding rock, allowing it to remain suspended in the cavern. And if that didn’t freak you out enough, you can see the flesh obviously resembles the shape of a fetus in the fetal position. This thing looks like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say.

“We told you you would not approve of our true form,” it says, its voice beaming directly into your mind.

“What are you,” you ask, still awestruck at the sight before you.

“We are have no name,” it responds. “But, with the knowledge we have accumulated over the centuries, we suppose you can call us the Megamycete.”

“Megamycete?”

“Yes, we are a supercolony of sentient fungus that has existed for over four-hundred years.”

“Four-hundred years? That’s as long as Gotham’s been around.”

“We have existed as the city above. When its founders first arrived, we were nothing more than a collection of small, independent and unaware colonies of mold. Not long after the first buildings were built, an earthquake shook the area and revealed something we now know as a ‘Lazarus Pit,’ a pool of green, luminescent liquid that possesses remarkable restorative properties, and the colonies that would become us were plunged into it.”

“And this pit made you the way that you are?”

“The pit made us aware, but it did not give us our intelligence. With our enhanced capabilities, we were able to spread out our roots beyond the mountain. Not long after, we discovered the corpses of the first of Gotham’s citizens, buried after they drew their last breath; when our roots came into contact with their bodies, we found we had the ability to archive the knowledge, memories, and even DNA of the deceased. We became obsessed with growing our archive, so as Gotham grew over the years, so did our roots; overtime, we archived hundreds of its deceased, increasing our intelligence and knowledge of the outside world. Now, our roots touch every part of this city, becoming one with it, not only archiving the remains of its living, but seeing and hearing everything that goes on within its boundaries.”

“So,” you say, your mouth becoming dry at your newfound knowledge. “You’re like some fungal god?”

“While we know many of your kind may consider a being such as us god, we hold no illusion of being a divine entity. We think of ourselves as an immortal observer.”

As you attempt to process this information, your mind brings something to your attention and you feel your heart stop when you realize it. You really don’t want to know the answer, but there’s that damn stubborn part of you that has… no, it needs to know.

“So,” you begin, trying to summon the courage to ask your question. “Earlier, you said all of this is going on in my head, right?”

“Yes, our roots were able to establish a link with you and allow us to convene with you in your mind.”

“So, if we’re in my head right now, where’s me? I mean, my body?”

Although the Megamycete doesn’t have eyes, nor does it turn anything that resembles a head, you can feel it shift its awareness to the side, as if looking at something. You feel yourself break into a cold sweat as you slowly turn your head to the left, wondering what exactly you’re going to find.

And when you do, your greeted by a sight that makes you feel as if the world around you had crumbled away and you’ve been left behind to float in the void left behind: you, lying in a mess of tendrils composed of mold, broken, battered, and bloody; your limbs lying in directions they’re definitely not supposed to be in, your eyes glazed over, and a gaping bullet hole in your left temple.

“Oh my god,” you shout, utterly horrified at the sight before you. “Oh my god!”

“We saw the torture those three criminals subjected you to. Their leader was quite thorough in inflicting damage.”

“So that’s it, huh?” While this is all just some projection in your head, you feel like you’re hyperventilating. “This is how it ends: being eaten by some sentient mushroom and becoming a part of it? Doomed to spend the rest of eternity tethered to this damn city? I survive in a place where you’re likely to be killed by some trigger-happy murder clown and his psycho-ass whore while getting your mail and some two-bit thug is what does me in?”

“If you look closer, you will find that you are still alive.”

You practically snap your head to look back at your body and sure enough, you can see your chest moving up and down. It may not be much, but it’s there.

“I’m alive,” you ask, shocked at the sight of you breathing.

“You still live,” it answers back. “Your life force is low, but still there.”

“But how? He shot me in the head and then threw me down here! People don’t live after something like that!”

“While a gunshot to the head is normally fatal, our archive shows us two revelations: that the bullet did not go through your brain, but graze it and that the bullet used was of a lower caliber. While the wound was grievous, you still had a chance of surviving it. As for the fall into our chamber, your body was caught onto our roots as it fell, slowing it down and allowing it to land with diminished force.”

“But I’m still going to die, right?”

“Yes,” it answers, seemingly sympathetic. “If you were in a proper hospital, you could recover, but right now, your body is slowly shutting down. By the time anyone found you, you would long be deceased.”

So, you survive attempted murder, but you’ll still die in the end.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Wasn’t the end I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind for your death,” the Megamycete asks.

“Shouldn’t you know what i had in mind for my death?”

“We do, but our knowledge shows us talking to the dying brings a form of comfort to them. Plus, this is the first time we have had the chance to interact with a living mortal. We wish to prolong the experience as much as possible.”

You chuckle at that. “I thought I would spend my final days back home in Goodsprings, sitting in the big recliner Momma bought for me. I use to spend Saturday mornings in it, eating cereal and watching cartoons.” You smile at the memory of the chair. “It was a damn good chair.”

“We see it, a brown cushioned seat, perfect for watching television or reading books.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Would’ve been perfect to spend my last days in.”

“Perhaps you still can.”

You look up at the Megamycete. “What?”

“We offer you a deal: we will repair your body and give you the strength to leave this chamber and rejoin the outside world.”

“And you’ll get what?”

“You become our host.”

“What,” you balk. “Host?”

“Yes, we will entangle ourselves with your very being, becoming as one.”

“And why the hell would I agree to that,” you exclaim. “You fix my body just to take it over? No deal!”

“You misunderstand. We will not override your control over your body. We will be nothing more than a spectator in your life, seeing but being powerless to intervene. In addition to being restored to your former glory, you will gain access not only to our vast archive of knowledge, but gain abilities many of your kind would consider supernatural.”

That certainly cools your temper. “So, you fix me up and give me superpowers, but all you get in return is front row seats to my life. Sounds like I’m the only one benefitting from this deal.”

“On the contrary, we stand to gain just as much as you do. For over four-hundred years, we could see the outside world, but not join it. With each new corpse we archived, we began to desire a way to interact with the world firsthand and not by mere memories. You are our solution to this dilemma. Through you, we will know what it means to feel the sun on our face, or to taste the finest meals, or to hear a symphony.”

The Megamycete’s words shock you to your core. You guess if you were stuck in this cavern for four centuries and only knew of a world beyond it through memories, you’d do anything to experience it, too.

“Please, Y/N, we beg you to accept our deal. We promise everything we are, from our archive to our longevity, will be at your disposal. You will be stronger, smarter, and better than those who thought less of you. In comparison to you, they will be nothing more than mere ants.”

You’ve thought about showing the Waynes up for years, to be able to pay Jason back for that black eye, to make Tim feel like a complete idiot, and especially to make Damian feel inferior in every way possible.

“We can do that for you. With us at your side, you’ll attain a level of perfection they could never dream of. All we want is to be able to witness this firsthand.”

“Alright,” you relent. “If all you want is to go outside in exchange for making me better than them, you have a deal.”

“We thank you, Y/N,” it says, sounding incredibly happy. Relieved, even.

And with that, your world fades to black once again and when you open your eyes, you find that you’re back in your body, feelings of pain overwhelming your senses, making it hard to concentrate on the Megamycete pressing its tendrils into you. You watch in total awe as the giant, fetus-like mass that is the Megamycete begin to shrink and when you look down where the tendrils are embedded in your skin, you can see a black substance being injected into under your skin. The more of the substance being pumped into your body, the smaller the Megamycete gets.

That’s when you feel weird all over, like every cell in your body is transforming into something else. While not painful, per se, it’s an incredibly odd sensation.

(Your body is becoming one with our mold,) you hear the Megamycete explain in your head. (Not only will it repair the damage that was done to you, you will find that you are far more durable than any mere mortal and have the ability to change your form into any that is stored in our archive, both man or beast.)

“Wait, you’re saying I can shapeshift?”

(If that is what you wish to call our mimetic abilities, then yes, you may “shapeshift.”)

When the last of the mold was transferred to you, you find your body stitching itself up and the incredible pain you were in fading fast, like it was never there. You see a puddle of water lying nearby and when you look in it, you see that all your injuries are gone, even the scar on your left check that Damian gave you three years ago. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it never happened at all.

And not only do you look better, you feel better! You wouldn’t say you were the healthiest person ever, but you tried to stay somewhere in between active and sedentary; sure you weren’t going to be running any marathons, but you were able to climb the many stairwells at school when the elevator took too long. Now, however, you felt like you could run and win a marathon, or climb up a mountain without climbing gear, or swim the English Channel during a hurricane! And you didn’t feel better physically, but intellectually as well! Gotham, for all it many flaws, has attracted the best artists, architects, doctors, engineers, musicians, scientists, and more; you feel your mind being rushed with the knowledge and memories of countless people throughout the ages, ranging from the city’s early days to now. Hell, you even have access to the memories and knowledge of some of Bruce’s greatest employees, giving you knowledge on much on Wayne Enterprises’ tech and projects that he’s spared no expense in keeping under wraps. Maybe you can get a pretty penny from Lex Corp in exchange for this information since everyone knows Bruce and Lex are bitter rivals and are constantly trying to one-up each other, with Bruce, unfortunately, often being the winner in their battles to develop the next technological development.

“I feel like I could run circles around Einstein,” you laugh, completely blown away with your newfound intellect. Right now, you feel like you could write a symphony that would make Beethoven feel inadequate while at the same time painting a masterpiece that would eclipse the Mona Lisa and designing a fusion reactor capable of powering the entire country. You look around the cavern, looking and not seeing a way out. “Now how do I get out of here?”

(There is a passage directly above you.) You look up to see a big hole in the chamber’s ceiling. (That is how you ended up here when those three threw you in here. Our archives have absorbed many of Gotham’s birds. Any one of them should give you the power to fly out of the chamber.)

The mention of the three thugs remind you of your stolen pen and Game Boy, which then fills you with rage. You’ve never liked thieves and the thought of your Momma’s treasured pen and your gift from your thoughtful boss in the hands of such lowlifes gives you even more of a reason to hate them. By now, they could be anywhere, maybe even outside of the city for fear of your disappearance being reported (mostly by Alfred, the only person left in Gotham who would give a damn).

(Remember our roots span all of Gotham,) the Megamycete says. (Through them, we have seen and heard all that occurs in this city. As our host, you now have access to them. All you have to do is reach out and think of who you wish to find.)

Following its advice, you reach out and feel the roots that entangle Gotham like a spider web. As soon as you do, you’re overwhelmed with sights and sounds from every corner of the city.

(Focus on the three,) it advises you. (If you concentrate on who exactly you want, the roots will do the rest.)

It takes some doing, but you manage to push aside the multitude of people that are in your mind’s eye and focus on the three kidnappers. You’re taken across the city, rushing past the many buildings and stopping at some seedy building in Coventry. Your newfound knowledge of Gotham tells you this is the My Alibi bar, a place for Gotham’s criminals to get together to eat, trade gossip, and find work.

With your destination known, you search through the Megamycete’s archives and something to get you out of here and find something that should do the job: crows. Your body manifests into a murder of crows and takes off in perfect unison, keeping in formation. It’s extremely weird to be a bunch of birds; you know that what was once your body is now numerous birds, but while you’re multiple birds, you’re still one person. You can see through all their eyes all at once and change their flight path and they actually do it like it’s nothing. In a matter of seconds, you’re on the surface, flying above the forest and looking down at the twinkling lights of Gotham’s buildings.

“You know, from above, that cesspit actually looks kinda pretty.”

(We thank you, Y/N. We never thought we would be able to experience such a sight firsthand, but here we are. Now, shall we retrieve your stolen property?)

The crows fly through the city, zipping past the buildings and as you do, you realize that you’ve just fulfilled a dream you’ve had since you were ten-years-old: to fly like a bird. When you realized that the Waynes were awful and all you wanted was to go back to Goodsprings— to take flight like a bird and leave this city and the Waynes behind. Now, you can turn into a flock of birds, or even grow a pair of wings, and fly all the way to Nevada!

Eventually, you reach the My Alibi club, which looks even worse in person than through the Megamycete’s roots. You land on a nearby building’s rooftop and see the only security for the entire building is a single bouncer. You command the birds to land near the bouncer and when they do, they come together and reform your body, but instead of revealing you, you command hardened black mold to cover your body, not wanting your face to be seen by anyone.

What’s going to happen here needs to not get back to you.

“What,” the bouncer stutters. “What the hell?”

“Leave,” is all you say.

The bouncer says nothing before he runs away.

(Are you ready,) the Megamycete asks as you near the door. (We highly doubt your three would-be murderers will take your return likely. Nor will they likely be in a hurry to return your property. You may have to resort to violence.)

“Good,” is all you say as you enter.

The noise coming from patrons’ conversations, drinking, and arguing comes to an end when you walk inside. A quick look around and you can tell this place lives up to its reputation of being for Gotham’s criminal element; everyone here looks like they’ve done time and will probably spend their last days in prison.

And in the back corner sit your targets, looking at you with their table filled with glasses and plates of food. The sight fills you with rage; they shot you in the head and threw you in a ditch and here they are, eating and drinking like they just got off work and wanted something to take the edge off. And what really pisses you off is seeing the one called Butch holding your Game Boy like it was his right!

“I’m here for them,” you say, pointing to your quarry. “The rest of you are free to go.”

“Up yours, freak,” some shithead shouts back, pulling out a revolver and fires it three times. The bullets hit the hardened mold and fall to the floor, looking like crushed tin cans rather than deadly projectiles. “What the hell?”

He goes to fire it again, but you raise your hand and a tendril emerges from it, piercing the man’s heart; he drops his gun and lets out a disgusting gurgle, blood dripping from it and pooling on the floor, before falling silent, dead.

While most of your mind is disturbed at the sight; you’ve just killed a man, his blood literally on your hands, but you can’t deny there’s a part of you that’s not saddened by your actions. After all, he did try to kill you and if he was in a place like this, chances are he was a piece of shit and Gotham’s a slightly better place for his passing.

For a moment, everyone is paralyzed at what just happened. The place is so quiet, a pin could drop and it would deafen everyone. Then, everyone breaks out of their stupor, practically all of them pulling out their guns and begin shooting at you, but just like their friend here found out, their bullets are useless against you. Numerous tendrils emerge from all over your body and rush at them; some of them empaling them, others wrap around their throats and crush them, while the rest just whip them with enough force to break them in two. One by one, they fall until it’s just you and your prey.

“Look, man,” you killer whimpers as you draw closer to him. “I don’t know what you want, but you can take what we have. Tom, hand him the bag.”

The other one throws a bag, which lands at your feet; you look down to see it’s your book bag. You pick it up and open it to find everything still inside, from your binder and notebooks to your phone and the gift box Mr. Chen gave you. You’re relieved to know that you’re not missing any of your school stuff and don’t have to go looking for anything or replace it. You are, however, missing all the money from your wallet, but a look on the table shows where it went to. But, you’re still missing the most important thing: your Momma’s pen.

“Here, take this, too.” The leader takes the Game boy from Butch and holds it out to you, which you snatch from him, reveling in the fear in his eyes as you did, and carefully place it inside.

That just leaves one last order of business. You extend two tendrils and wrap them around the leaders throat and hold him up from the floor, his legs kicking around, trying and failing to get him back on the ground; his arms pathetically wrap around the tendrils, trying to crate some room for him to breath, and his mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, trying to get any sort of air. His cohorts go to say something, but a quick glare from you shuts them up. You bring the man close to you until you can see your reflection in his eyes, which are wide and full of terror, and open your mold mask, revealing your identity to them and based off their expressions, all three men could probably crush coal into diamonds with their sphincters.

“Holy shit,” Butch whispers, his face showing his complete disbelief.

“It’s that kid,” Tom adds, his face mirroring his partner. “But, we killed him, right?”

“My pen,” you say, looking at this piece of human filth with complete contempt. “Where is it?”

You loosen your grip to allow him to speak.

“My pocket,” he says. “It’s in my pocket. All the pawn shops were closed, so I wasn’t able to sell it.”

While you’re happy that your beloved pen is not is some sleazy pawn shop’s display window, you’re utterly disgusted at the thought of this man’s audacity to think he had the right to sell your most treasured possession like its some worthless trinket. A small tendril emerges form your shoulder and searches the man’s pocket and pulls out that beautiful gold ink pen. You have it deliver it to your left hand, which is empty as your right hand is being used to hold the man in front of you, and hold onto it with a vice-like grip.

(Not even death could separate you from your Mother’s memento,) the Megamycete states. (We are impressed at your dedication to it.)

“Look, we’re sorry for what we did to you,” the man pathetically whimpers. “Really, we are.”

“Did you know this was my Momma’s pen,” you ask as if the man had not just said something. “I lost her on my sixth birthday and was forced to leave my home in Goodsprings to live here. This pen is the only thing of hers I was able to bring with me. And you had felt like you had the right to take something I treasure more than anything else in the world and pawn it off for some petty cash.”

“We didn’t know, man,” Butch responds, now realizing the depth of his mistakes. “We’re sorry.”

“We promise we won’t tell anyone about this,” Tom adds. “Just let us go and you’ll never see or hear from us ever again.”

“You’re right, we won’t see each other again, but wouldn’t you like to know who I was forced to live with?” The three of them pathetically nod in unison and you have to fight the urge to laugh. A few hours ago, these men were looking down at you, sure they could do anything they wanted, but now, here you are, far above them in the food chain. “I was forced to live with my father, Bruce Wayne.”

“But he said—“ the leader starts to say, but you cut him off.

“That bastard has ignored me since I moved in with him,” you shout, shutting him up. “I was his first biological son, but he’s completely forgotten about me!” You take a deep breath. Just the mention of him brings out the worst in you. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need him. Just like you don’t need your lives.”

And with that, you rip the man’s head clean off his shoulders, not even giving him the chance to realize his fate before killing him. You release the body and both it and his head crumple to the floor in a heap of lifeless meat and to further invoke fear in them, you stomp on the head while looking at them, the thing making a wet splat sound. The other two shout, but you cut them down with ease, tendrils emerging from your back and wrapping around their heads and crush them with ease, showering the floor in their blood and grey matter. Their bodies fall to the floor and flail around for a while before finally stopping.

(Well done,) the Megamycete praises. (You cut down these criminals and made Gotham safer faster than any police officer we have known. Perhaps the local police should seek out your services?)

“Not gonna happen,” you laugh as you walk out of the bar with your backpack in hand. “I have no intention of staying in this place. Once I graduate, I’m going back home.”

(Yes, Goodsprings. A small town located in Nevada. We look forward to experiencing your return to your point of origin.)

And with that, you manifest a pair of black wings on your back and take flight, flying far above the city’s skyscrapers, so hopefully you’re safe from detection. In just a few minutes, you’ve flown from Burnley Island to Bristol, something that should’ve taken almost an hour by car. Thanks to the Megamycete’s roots, you can see the Bats still out and about throughout Gotham, so you don’t have to worry about running into any of them while hurrying into your room.

You land down the street to avoid being picked up by the security cameras (Bruce’s picture is the definition of paranoid based on the amount of cameras in both the estate and in the house itself) and walk the rest of the way there. Normally, walking down the marathon-length driveway to the manor when coming home from work, but his time, you cross the distance like it’s nothing; in fact, you feel like you can do this another dozen times and still feel energized.

But, while you’re physically invigorated, you’re mentally drained and all you want to do is curl up and bed and pass out; you enter Wayne Manor and hurry to your room, never more thankful for being far from the rest of the household than you are now. While you’ve been flying under the radar of Gotham’s vigilantes for years now, you’ll afraid that even they won’t be able to ignore you when they found out about your newly gained powers. During your stay here, you’ve listened to their conversations when they thought you weren’t around and you know that while they distrust everyone (even each other based on the fact that no one seems to be allowed to have secrets), they distrust those with superpowers the most. Two years you listened in on a conversation between Bruce and Superman, who offered to help him during a time when many of Arkham’s most dangerous patients escaped all at once, and Bruce said in a tone that felt like sandpaper being dragged across your face: “Gotham’s off limits to metas. You step one foot in my city and you’ll regret it.”

Honestly, you’re confident that Bruce is only on this planet to be the biggest asshole who ever lived. He treats his first biological son like shit, he raises his “true children” to be as paranoid and pessimistic as him, and he threatens anyone who offers his sorry ass any kind of help. It seems to you that the only one who should’ve died that night in Crime Alley is Bruce.

You shove the man’s image in your head aside. Before tonight, he wasn’t important to you, but now, he’s irrelevant. You never needed him before, but now, you really don’t. With the Megamycete, you have everything you need.

Just then, your phone rings, bringing you out of your thoughts. You fish out your phone and look on the screen to see Alfred’s caller ID staring back at you.

“Hello,” you answer.

“Master Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it’s over an hour since you should’ve called me since getting off work.” You wince when you peek at your phone and see you’re overdue your nightly call with the butler. “So, I ask again: are you alright?” Based off his tone, he’s not going to accept “I’m fine” as an answer.

“Yeah, I am.” You quickly think of anything that could explain your tardiness and realize something: the best lie is an obvious truth. You just need to modify it a bit. “I just stayed behind to tell Mr. Chen goodbye. Today was the last day for the store because his daughter said Gotham was too dangerous for him to stay by himself, so she brought him to her home today.”

“Oh, Master Y/N, I’m sorry.” His tone says he’s bought it and you actually feel bad lying to the man you’ve come to see as a father figure. “I know how much you loved working there. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I will be. I’m gonna miss him.”

“Of course you will, he was a good man and you were the best employee he could ask for. Can I do anything for you? I’m halfway through with my vacation, perhaps I should—“

“No,” you cut the man off. “You don’t have to come back early, Alfred.” With everything that’s happened today, you need some time to prepare yourself before facing Alfred in person again. It would be a disaster for you to expose yourself as some form of metahuman in front of him. Plus, he deserves to have all his allotted vacation time. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“If you’re sure,” he says, obviously wanting to say more, but doesn’t press the issue. “I’ll let you go, I’m sure you’re tired and you need your rest. Please make sure you catch up on your sleep I’m sure you’ve missed this week during your spring break.”

“I will, Alfred, don’t worry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Very good, Master Y/N. Good night, my boy.”

“Good night.”

You hang up and let out a sigh of relief, glad he bought it.

(You say you trust the butler with your life, but keep the events of tonight a secret from him. Why?)

“Because Alfred’s highly protective and would most likely steal a boat and sail back to Gotham within an hour if I told him I was kidnapped. And if he knew about you, he’d probably drag me to a hospital and have every last trace of mold surgically removed.”

(We do not wish for that to happen.)

“Me neither, bud. You know, after tonight, I think we’re gonna do great things together.”

(We agree. Now, heed the words of your butler and rest. Tonight was very eventful for you. It would not do well for our host to shirk in his bodily needs.)

You chuckle and strip down to your boxers before climbing into bed. Not long after you get comfy, you feel yourself drift off to sleep. For the first time ever, you’re actually looking forward to waking up in Gotham.

Bruce hears Jason whistle at the sight, but says nothing in favor of studying the carnage inside the My Alibi bar. Bodies are scattered everywhere around the establishment, some are relatively intact while others look like they were ripped in half.

“Looks like someone had fun here,” Jim says as he approaches him, Jason, and Damian. “What do you think?”

“Looks like someone had a score to settle,” he responds to the police commissioner. He motions to the remains of three men crowded together in a corner of the bar with their heads missing; two of the heads are near the rest of their bodies while the third has been reduced to a fine red paste. “Especially these three. Based on how they were killed, I’d guess whoever did this was after them.”

“Doesn’t look like Joker’s handiwork,” Jim adds. “No one here’s smiling and the place is devoid of murderous gag toys.”

No, this is definitely not the clown’s MO. Neither does it match the MO of anyone currently missing from Arkham. The only one he could think of that could rip apart and crush some of the victims is Bane, but that doesn’t explain why the remaining victims are impaled; plus, the giant is still locked up in Arkham’s high-security ward. So, this can only mean one thing.

“This is definitely the work of someone new,” he says, bending down to study the squashed head. “And with this being the only scene we know of, this was their first time killing.”

Whoever did this is highly dangerous and needs to be stopped and fast before even more people get hurt. Looks like he and his family are going to have their hands full for the foreseeable future.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @bundlofcigars @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 months ago

Note

Sub!armin x reader collegeau

(PLEASE BABES IM BEGGNG YOUUUU🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾)

For Free

Tags: Sub!Armin x Fem!Reader, college!au, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, virgin!armin, overstimulation, light choking, vaginal sex, face riding, a small side of eremika,

Synopsis: Virgin!Armin doesn’t know how to get his dick wet :)

An: I’d love to start writing more for AOT if anyone else has any reqs they wanna see me flesh out <3 I don’t write sub men that often, so I hope this was satisfactory. Also, can we be so fr rn? Men who are nerdy and have nerdy interests are sooooo 🤭

"So, as I was saying. The artic also produces icebergs, so hypothetically speaking, if we could cut down on pollution and light pollution, we could have a slim shot of repairing-"

"Armin, I am begging you. Please shut the fuck up and eat your food." Eren annoyingly snaps at him while rolling his eyes. He was currently stabbing at his portion of chicken aggressively with his fork.

"I was listening to him. Don't be an ass." You retort while elbowing Eren in his side. Your eyes then fixate back on Armin. "You're saying that we potentially could repair the artic to an extent?" You prompt for him to go on his little tangent about the artic and ocean.

If someone asked you why you were so interested, you'd make up some lie about how you're writing a paper on the effects of pollution and global warming. In reality, you actually just loved listening to your cute blonde friend spill his heart out about his hyper fixations.

Your eyes glass over as Armin goes back to explaining to you the intricacies of the environment and global warming. Your mind wanders to how he’d look if you just got on your knees for him and gave him the best head of his life. You could almost bet that he’d be the type to whimper.

“You need to get laid like it’s detrimental at this point.” Eren grumbles while shaking his head. “You quite literally are putting off an energy that scares away the hoes.”

“And what hoes are you trying to attract?” Mikasa asks as she finally settles in next to Eren. She was running late to lunch after helping Historia out carrying somethings to the teacher’s lounge.

“None-! But if I were, Armin would scare them away.” Eren replies, and you notice how his hand snaked underneath the table towards Mikasa’s thigh.

“Stop being such an ass. He’s just passionate about something. No one treated you like shit when you went through your little skating phase.” You speak up once again, getting real sick of Eren’s pissy attitude.

“It’s okay, yn. We can talk about this later.” Armin finally speaks up, giving you a small defeated smile that crushes your soul. Underneath the table, you gently bump your foot against his foot.

His face doesn’t show it, but his heart flutters in his chest as he bumps his foot back against yours. It’s such a small act of affection, but it’s your guy’s way of just checking in with each other. Essentially, it was a way to silently say, “I’m here for you.”

“Armin, you’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” Eren asks as he takes an aggressive bite from his food.

Your foot ever so gently slides up Armin’s leg, making his breath hitch in his throat. His face flushes a bright red as he avoids everyone’s gaze.

“I don’t know why that matters.” He mutters quietly, not liking where Eren was going with this.

“I’m taking that as a yes then.” Eren continues. “Any reason in particular why you haven’t slept with anyone yet?”

Your eyes focus on Armin’s face as you’re curious as well. Armin isn’t ugly. He’s sweet, smart, and incredibly patient. Girls have approached him in the past, but he always just opts to keep them at arms length.

“I just..” Your foot gently presses into his inner thigh, seeing how far he’d let you take this. Armin immediately coughs as if trying to hide his reaction to your blatant flirting. “… haven’t found the right one.. I guess.”

“The right one? Armin, you need to just get it out of the way. I’ll literally pay someone to sleep with you.” Eren half-laughs, which means he’s probably only half-joking.

“That’s prostitution, Eren, and it’s illegal.” Armin replies with a small frown, not liking that his best friend is quite literally offering to pay for his virginity to be taken.

“I’d do it for free.” You casually offer with a small shrug. Armin’s eyes go wide as he stares at you from across the table, and Eren chokes on his soda. Mikasa just has a calm smile on her face as she watches this all go down.

“Of course you would. You’re practically riding his dick all the time anyways.” Eren retorts after he gains his composure back.

“Yep, you’re right. Now, I’m going to go do it for real too.” You respond as you stand from your chair. Your hand reaches over and grabs Armin’s hand before leading him out of the mess hall.

His hand is trembling in yours, and he can’t find the words to say right now. His heart is beating so loudly that he almost can’t hear. The only thing on his mind was that you’re finally noticing him.

Armin turned down the girls who tried to flirt with him because he has his eyes set on you. He’s had the fattest crush on you since you met their little friend group in college.

Not knowing how to handle his feelings, he had once confided in Eren and Mikasa. Both of them said it was stupid obvious that you liked him back, but he refused to believe it. How could a girl as pretty and confident as you like him??

You let out an exasperated sigh as you shut your dorm door behind you, locking it so no one else can bother you too. Armin’s entire face is red, and he’s fumbling with his fingers.

“You don’t have to be so nervous. You know I was kidding, right?” You softly laugh at him while taking your shoes off. You then crawl up onto your bed and settle down. “I just was tired of listening to Eren, and I figured you needed a break too…”

Armin can’t help the way his demeanor subtly drops. He feels so naive for thinking you were actually going to take his virginity. You probably detested the thought of doing so- He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before he also sits down on your bed.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” He mumbles quietly, and he keeps his gaze away from you.

You quickly pick up on his change in attitude. He almost seems… disappointed? Your eyes lock for a moment, and you observe his pretty blue eyes looking back into yours. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's giving you puppy dog eyes.

"Don't tell me you're disappointed." You lightly joke, lips curling into a smile as you gently nudge him.

Armin lets out a soft exhale of amusement, and he clams up for a moment. "Well.. I.. can't say that I wasn't a little bit excited." He admits sheepishly.

"Excited for me to take your virginity?" You prompt, shifting your position on your bed to where you and Armin's faces are a few inches apart. "I didn't think you really cared about that sort of thing."

"Sex?" Armin asks while his eyebrows pinch together slightly. He's giving a small cute pout. "I know it's hard to believe, but I am still a guy.."

"Oh? Is this when you give me the spill about having urges and desires too?" You tease him, and he's slowly leaning back against your pillows. Your body carefully shifts on top of his.

His heart is hammering through his chest - his nervousness and excitement making him feel like he's going to explode. He just hoped you didn't notice how painfully hard he was already. He had been subtly concealing a boner since you offered to take his virginity.

"Is that what you want to hear?" He asks as he gazes up at you. At this point you're straddling his waist. Your hands are pressed to his chest.

"You know... yeah, tell me what urges and desires the infamous nerdy Armin Arlert has." You raise an eyebrow at him with a lopsided grin, excited to hear about what fantasies he conjures up in that cute head of his.

"Well... I think a lot about you..."

"Yeah..? What about me?" Your hands slowly rub up and down his chest, and you can feel his hard on pressing desperately against your thigh.

"J-just about..." He's stuttering now, and his face is flushing a deep red as you're not giving him must leeway to escape this. "Your lips... how soft they'd feel."

"You think about kissing me?" Your hips shift ever so subtly, causing a small gasp from Armin.

"Amongst other things..." He breathes out, but he's given no chance to gather himself before you take his wrists and pin them to the sides of his head.

You lean down over him, hovering your lips right over his. "If you want it... take it." You whisper softly, your breath ghosting over his lips, causing him to shiver.

A small whimper escapes him before he leans up, and he captures your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. You ease up on his lap, allowing for him to control the kiss for a moment.

He kisses you needily - so desperate to feel more, but he isn't quite sure on how to initiate that. Your lips are as soft as he imagined, and you taste like strawberry poundcake. He's already so addicted. It was his first kiss, and you were already rotting him from the inside out.

Your hands release his wrists, and you cup his jaw instead, taking control of the kiss. Your teeth tease his bottom lip, showing him exactly how to achieve what he wants. Your tongues clash together, and his hands find your hips. His thumbs rub into your hip bones, loving the feeling of you in his lap.

After a while, you finally part from him. A small thin string of saliva connects you two as you're both panting, trying to recover from the steamy kiss.

"What else is do you want?" You whisper softly, intending to give this man whatever he so asks for.

"I- I want..." His voice is breathy, overcome with intense lust as he lifts his hips up, hoping you'll get the memo.

"Sayy it." You taunt with an evil smile.

"Please- I... I want you to use me." He whines, and he tilts his head back slightly as his bulge grinds so nicely against your core.

Your hips begin to roll, adding on to the fiction for both of you. You can tell through his pants that Armin isn't exactly small like most people would believe him to be since he's not exactly tall.

"Mmmnph~" His breathing is labored as he feels his tip already making a mess in his boxers. He quickly grabs your hips and stills them before he can make a real mess.

"What is it-? Did I do something wrong?" You ask in a concerned tone before you realize just how red his face his. He looks so disheveled already. His blonde hair was a mess upon his head.

"N-no... it was really good." He admits quietly. "Too good... I didn't want to..." His voice trails off, and he looks away from you with an embarrassed look.

"Oh.. I see.." You reply with a small grin, finding it cute how worked up he gets. You slowly ease your pants and panties down your legs, and you toss them onto the ground.

“Do you ever watch porn while thinking about these things?” You ask, going back to his fantasies.

“Mmm.. sometimes, but the mental image is enough most times.” His eyes glance down towards your thighs and lower half. “Some… sometimes I imagine you riding my face…”

“Oh?” You prompt with a small smile. “Do you want me to sit on your face?”

Armin nods his head quickly, and he scoots his body down lower, already prepping for you to take your rightful seat on his tongue. He’s nervous about eating you out for the first time, but he’s nearly drooling at the thought of you putting your weight down on his head. He wonders just how sweet you’ll taste.

“Is that a yes?”

“Please..” He asks so sweetly. You have to reward him.

You crawl up to where his head is laid back against your mattress, placing your legs on either side of his face, and your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair. He looks up at you through his eyelashes with a truly pitiful gaze.

“Tap my thigh three times if you can’t breathe, okay sweet boy?” You ask to make sure he understands. He nods his head without a second thought before leaning up to press a kiss against your cunt.

Eren had talked about eating Mikasa out before to Armin… despite Armin’s many, many attempts to make him shut up. Eren would tell Armin that he wouldn’t stop until she was a shaky mess on top of him. That was Armin’s goal. He wanted to feel your thighs tremble from his tongue.

“Good boy…” You purr as you slowly lower yourself onto his mouth. Armin immediately seems to just know what to do as if it was pure instincts coursing through him.

He starts off slow, pressing gentle kisses against your cunt before he starts to lap at you. A hum fleas him as he savors the taste of you. Just as sweet as he imagined.

With his tongue, he finds the small button of nerves at the top of your cunt. He immediately knows what it is by the way your body jolts upwards a bit, and a small whine falls from your lips.

He reaches up, and he pulls a bit more down onto his tongue. He doesn’t like how you’re hovering — as if you’re scared to hurt him. He wants to feel you sit - not hover.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmur quietly to him, which only makes him more determined to make you sit.

“You’re not going to hurt me. Please, I want you to sit.” He pulls your hips again. “Use me.” He whines as he starts to gently suckle on your clit, making you jolt again.

His hands massage the flesh of your ass, and he starts to force your hips to rock back and forth while he flattens his tongue against your slippery folds.

You taste so fucking divine. Armin’s completely lost in your essence. His eyes are fluttered shut as he’s licking, kissing, suckling every thing you’ll allow him to.

Your hand is entangled in his pretty blonde hair as your hips are rolling back and forth. His nose bumps against your swollen clit, making you clench around nothing. You’ve never experienced head like this — not when most men make it sound like a chore. Armin sees it as a blessing.

The sounds in the room sound like they’re straight from a porno as your cunt sounds so sticky and drenched. Armin’s making soft hums and whines as he’s eating you like a starved man. Your moans fill the room — not caring if anyone could hear you next door.

“Just like that.. f-fuck.. gonna make me finish.” You pant, unable to even think straight while he’s plunging is tongue in and out of you.

Armin flutters his eyes open to look up at you. You’re so fucking pretty. How did he get so lucky? The way you’re completely coming undone on top of him has him literally trying to hump the air. His neglected cock sits flush against his tummy, leaking clear pre-cum all over himself and his clothes.

“Armin-!” You cry his name as you clench around air. More juices seep from your weeping hole, and he’s quick to clean you up with his tongue.

Your breath staggers as you come down from your orgasm. Of all people, Armin Arlert was the first to make you finish off head.

He’s not done though. Your thighs haven’t trembled yet. His hands grip around you, forcing you to keep gyrating on his tongue. He’s getting absolutely nasty with it, desperate to make you spent.

“O-oh god- wait, Armin— I f-finished.” You try to tell him, thinking he didn’t catch on, but he doesn’t relent.

His eyes almost have a smoldering gaze as he looks up at you with his mouth occupied with your cunt. His hands are kneading at the fat of your ass before he drags one finger towards your entrance.

“H-hold on. Wait- I-“ You’re nervously babbling, already feeling overstimulated. So when he slips his digit deep into your sopping wet cunt, and he curls it juuust right… you’re a shaking mess on top of him.

He smiles against your core, knowing now that he can stop. He slips his finger out, and he pressed a saccharine kiss to your pussy before tapping on your thigh.

Your body is trembling as you slowly lean up from his face, and you’re trying to stabilize your breath.

Armin just looks up at you, waiting for feedback on his little performance.

“You did such a good job. Good boy.” You praise before pressing light kisses along his cheeks. You can feel the way his face heats up when you praise him like that.

You finally press a kiss to his lips after a few moments, tasting yourself on his tongue. Armin lifts his hips up again, reminding you that he’s so painfully pent up. He’s aching for release.

Your hands find the waistband of his jeans, and you carefully unbutton them while continuing to intertwine your lips with his. He whines when you part from the kiss.

Once his jeans and boxers are off, you finally get to admire his pretty cock slapped against his tummy. His tip was coated in sweltering pre-cum. Just to tease him, you scoot down and give his tip a small kitten lick, tasting the sweet and salty taste of his arousal.

“Mmph- yn-“ Your name sounds like a plea when he whines it. His cock immediately flexes underneath your tongue. You giggle and give him another small kitten lick. “Ah~ please…”

“Please what?” You ask, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Need to b-be inside you.. please miss.” He whines so shamelessly, abandoning all his previous embarrassment. He can’t afford to be shy when he’s craving the feeling of your gummy walls tightening around him.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You scoot your hips back up, and you grind against him a few times, getting his cock nice and coated in your slick.

Armin’s practically fisting at the bedsheets. Feeling your bare pussy rubbing against him was soooo much better than when you were still clothed.

“Miss..” He whimpers softly as his hips flutter upwards to rub against you in an act of desperation. “Miss, can you… take your shirt off please..?”

You gaze at him puzzled for a moment. It was an odd time to make that sort of request, but who were you to deny such a needy plea?

Your hands pull your shirt above your head, and you toss it off the side of your bed. Your hips go back to rocking against him as his tip is kissing strings of pre-cum to your clit.

He admires the way your black lacy bra sits flush against your skin. It only solidifies in his mind just how out of his league you are. He’ll never be able to comprehend just why you’re deciding to give him a chance.

“M-may I..?” He asks as his hands reach for the backside of your bra. As much as he loves the way the fabric cups your breasts so beautifully, he’s after something else.

“Go ahead, baby.” You answer him, and he’s quick to unhook your bra as if he had practiced before.

Eren definitely taught him how, but you don’t need to know that!

Armin watches with wide, excited eyes are your breasts bounce from the confines of your bra. His hand gently kneads on one, loving how your soft pillowy flesh filled his hand.

His eyes gaze upward at you as he leans in and captures your nipple into his mouth. His mouth feels attentive as he carefully swirls his tongue around the pebble, and he gently sucks on it while his eyes fall shut.

Maybe he’s died. This must be what heaven feels like. The only thing that’ll make this better is if..

One of your hands entangle in his hair, and the other hand reaches behind you. Your fingers wrap around his length before guiding him inside you.

Armin immediately moans pitifully around your mound. He has to detach from you to focus all his attention on not busting inside you immediately like the pathetic virgin he is.

“Are you alright, baby?” You ask him with a devious grin. If you weren’t focused on teasing him so much, you’d probably be as much of a mess as he is.

“S-so tight.. fuck yn- I can’t-!” He’s nearly crying as you sink yourself down on top of him, until he’s buried to the hilt.

You try to lift your hips up, but Armin’s hands wrap around your hips, and he forces you right back down onto his lap. “N-not yet. Please miss-“ You’re honestly taken aback by how strong he is. Even though he doesn’t look it, he could overpower you if he wanted. “D-don’t wanna come yet.”

“So sensitive.” You purr as you lean down towards him. Your hand cups his cheek, and you stroke his face with your thumb. “I thought you wanted to be used, baby.”

“I do.. I just… don’t want to leave you unsatisfied.”

“Oh, what a gentleman.” You laugh softly before pressing a kiss to his nose. “Well, if you finish and I’m not done yet, I’ll just keep going. I’ll use you again and again until I’m spent.”

His cock literally twitches inside of you from your words, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. He feels nervous yet so damn excited. His legs are literally flinching from his nerves.

His hand loosen up, and you get to work, riding him like you two wouldn’t see each other tomorrow.

You’re just so fucking wet and tight. Armin knows there’s no way he’s going to last long, not when you feel like paradise between your legs.

Within the minute, Armin is emptying himself deep inside you. “G-gods! Fuck, miss… ‘m sorry.” You give him an understanding smile, and you help ride out his orgasm. “‘m sorry.” He whimpers again before he takes your nipple back into his mouth, showing you just how sorry he is.

He’s a sorry man who can’t get enough of your delicious cunt milking him until you’re done for.

His cum seeps out and coats his cock as you continue to bounce yourself up and down. Armin’s a complete whiny mess as he’s trying to cope with how completely sensitive his cock is.

“Ah~ fuck miss… mmmph~ sooo good.” He’s completely babbling praises to your sopping wet cunt.

“You… ngh.. like being used like this?” You ask, and your hand lightly wraps around his neck, testing the waters. You don’t squeeze at all, just showing that you could if you wanted to.

“I love it.. wanna be yours, miss. Please, make me yours.” He pleas. You’re completely enamored with how much of a mess he is. He’s truly begging to be yours.

“Mine.” You mumble as you feel your stomach beginning to coil. With each rock of your hips, you’re growing closer and closer.

Unlatching your hand from his neck, you lean in and suck love bites into his neck, laying your claim on him.

Armin doesn’t ever cuss, but he has a complete sailor’s mouth when he’s balls deep inside you. “F-fuck.. miss-! cumming!” He warns before his cock is shooting into you once again.

His legs are shaking beneath you as his orgasm washes over him completely once again. His cock is weakly twitching inside you, so terribly sensitive that it almost hurts.

“Wan’ me to finish on you?” You whisper into his ear while your hips are desperately moving up and down. Your poor bed is creaking with each movement, and Armin’s just barely hanging onto his sanity by a thread.

“P-please… please cum on me.. wan’ to feel you.” His voice is a mere whimper, and he carefully reaches between your two. His thumb presses against your clit before he rubs in slow circles.

“Fuck— just like that.. goood boy..” You can’t even find your breath as you’re chasing after your high.

Your entire body gyrates on top of him once your orgasm finally crashes over you. Your vision is nearly doubled from how hard you finish on top of him.

A whiny groan leaves Armin’s lips as he feels you clenching around him. His body is so hyper sensitive. He feels like a million little lightning bolts are striking him all over. His skin feels like electricity against yours.

You take a moment to catch your breath finally as you stay on his lap. Both of you are completely disheveled together.

“Did I… do good?” He quietly asks you, hoping that it was as good for you as it was for him.

“Did soooo good.” You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

He smiles softly, and he leans into your touch. “Can we get cleaned up now..? I had a thought provoking epiphany while I was coming inside you about how we could help the atmosphere.”

Oh, to be loved by a nerdy man.

#aot #attack on titan #aot armin #armin arlert #armin aot #armin x reader #sub armin #armin smut #aot smut #eremika #fanfic #drabble

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reidmania · 2 months ago

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cinema seven | s.reid

summary; spencer goes to see a movie in cinema with derek, when cinema seven breaks down, he offers to help the pretty — all too stressed manger (who he has been too nervous to ask out) fix the projectors.

warnings; guys this fic is actually just for me. cinema manger reader, fem reader, they lowkey break rules but we don’t talk about that, probably boy band haired reid and ooc spencer bc they flirt or banter idk, fluff!! So much fluff!!spencer has been pinning for a while

an; i am a cinema manger 😐 cinema seven is making me want to die because of the bloody projectors breaking constantly. this is probably soo ooc, and also like uncorrectly timed bc it based off how cinema’s are now, not how they were. Whoops. this has been in my drafts for weeks and i hate it.

Dimly low lights lit the theatre room, couples, families and other guests filling the space of the soft red velvet chairs set aligned, finding their seats as the advertisement’s played over the big screen in front of them, the stairs lit with small red lights to ensure everyone knew where they were going, and to ensure nobody missed a step under the dim lit lights.

The room smelt strongly of sweet buttered popcorn, and whatever antiseptic spray had been used to wipe down the cupholders of the seats when being cleaned in between movie sessions, the smell sent a small wave of reassurance over Spencer.

Spencer had never been a massive fan of cinemas, he preferred watching his documentaries or show’s from his couch at home, curled up in blankets, in an area he knew was completely sanity, away from the public and in his own space. However, lately Derek had been inviting him to the cinema more and more after he agreed the first time.

He didn’t necessarily mind, and he knew why Derek had continued to invite him — which was the reason he didn’t mind so much. The first time they had come to the cinema apparently they had picked a bad time, since it was absolutely packed the minute they arrived.

Thats when Spencer had seen you, working on one of the till’s. He had been to the cinema before, but he had never seen you before. As they got closer and the queue shortened, he was able to read the small ‘manger’ badge that hug off the lanyard around your neck.

Explained why he hadn’t seen you at the front before.

His palms had grown clammy as the line grew shorter, whatever Derek had been talking about was completely lost on Spencer, his gaze was locked on your pretty face smiling at a young kid who — spencer assumed — was blabbering about something, hardly coherent over the noise of the people around, but you smiled and nodded none the less as you handed the parents boxes of popcorn.

That was the first time he went to the cinema’s with Derek. Derek had watched the boy stumble over his words as he spoke to you when you served them, cheeks flushing and his gaze never meeting yours for two long. You had laughed and told him to take his time as you wiped down the benches, listening intently. He had taken note of the way you juggled tasks all at once, making popcorn, serving, cleaning.

He had been three times since, the second time wasn’t with Derek, and he honestly didn’t really want to see a movie, he just wanted to see you, unfortunately you weren’t working and he was left seeing a movie he didn’t actually want to watch.

Derek teased the boy endlessly, about his cinema crush. Which was why him and Derek were here now. Again, a movie Spencer had no interest in, but it was busy enough that you would have to be working tills. That was enough to justify seeing a boring film to Spencer.

He had seen you, you had served them and when you smiled widely with recognition of their faces Spencer felt like he was about to pass out with how hard his head was beating. Now he was sitting in the cinema, next to Derek who was shovelling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth before the movie had actually even started.

It was only about five minutes into the actual film when the sound had dropped out.

It was another five minutes before people started talking, before someone had stood up to leave the cinema. Then another two minutes before a worker — not you, a different one, came in and looked over the screen before talking into a hand held radio.

People were growing frustrated, annoyed and restless in waiting. Fair enough, no one really wanted to see a film with no sound. However what made Spencer pinch his eyebrows together with a frown is when you did walk in, and there was someone else standing, obviously taking their frustration out on you.

Spencer looked at Derek, who looked at him at the same time, obviously noticing the interaction before the guy had returned to his seat in a frustrated huff. Then your voice rang out throughout the cinema as you stood to the side, Spencer watched from his seat as your hands toyed with the lanyard around your neck.

“Im really sorry about this guys— We’ve been having issues all day. Just give me a couple of minutes to try to fix the projector then I’ll put it back to before the sound went off, so you don’t miss anything.” You sounded stressed, clearly apologetic as you spoke. There were mumbling that went around the cinema. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hand through your hair before turning to walk out.

Spencer— didn’t know what was going through his mind when he stood up and made his way down the stairs, ignoring the confused splutter from Derek. Spencer made his way out of the cinema, looking around at the foyer area, it didn’t take long to see you.

Standing there, you were talking to another customer, clearly stressed and in a rush but still respectful. He waited patiently before the customer thanked you and walked away. His feet worked quicker than his mind could when he walked up to you.

“Hi” he said gently. Your eyes lifted to his before you looked towards a doorway, you smiled softly. He stood in front of you, your hands continued to fidget, he noticed that, he noticed the way your cheeks were slightly flushed and a few baby hairs stuck to your forehead from sweat.

You wiped your cheek, “Hi- Cinema seven right? I promise I’m getting there — Im so sorry.” You apologised, his heart both warmed and ached for different reasons, one because you remembered what movie he had gone to see, and because you sounded so insanely overwhelmed. There was a slight shake in your tone, he noticed.

He nodded, “yeah- But uh- I just- What’s the issue?” He asked, he wanted to slap himself in the face for the way he stuttered over his words. He was embarrassing himself, and wasting your time and he knew he should probably just turn around and walk back to his seat but he couldn’t.

A sigh left your lips, “I honestly have no idea — all day the sound has just been going out, it works for a bit but it’s just — so annoying. I’ve tried restarting it like ten times — i can’t seen any obvious issue, I really am so sorry.” You continue to apologise, he hated that you were apologising for an issue that was out of your control, its not like you went and broke the projector.

“No- Its okay. I just — I could look at it — if you want? If thats okay? I just, uh.. know quite a bit about them..” He offered, because you looked so stressed and so overwhelmed and he just wanted to help in any way he possibly could. This was something he knew he could do, he was smart enough to figure it out.

You sighed and smiled gently at him, “Thats really nice and I would totally say yes — like i genuinely would but we can’t uh— have customers going up there.” You mumbled out, almost as if you were genuinely disappointed by the fact.

He nodded in understanding because it made sense, of course you couldn’t. Projectors weren’t cheap by any means and if you just let customers go up there then chances are they would all be broken within minutes.

“Im not- I work for the FBI, I-I can show you my badge.” He mumbled, hand already reaching out for his pocket to pull out his badge and flick it open. Now, Spencer didn’t use his job as a personal weapon often; however this was different. This was you, and you were oh so pretty.

He watched as your eyes trailed down his hands to his badge, reading over the information before your eyes flickered back up to his — you were considering it, he could basically see the mental debate you were having with yourself. He hoped you said yes, because if not then he had wasted an incredible amount of your time and was actually just stopping your from doing your job.

Then you huffed out a small breath of air, “You know what you’re doing?” You asked.

He nodded instantly, “If it helps I have an IQ of 187 and have three pHD’s?” He offered the information, not to impress but to provide some sort of comfort to the clear worry over your features.

Yours eyes met his and you just looked at him for a minute — trying to find any hint of dishonesty in his features, but when you didn’t you huffed out a small ‘okay.’ Before turning around, Spencer followed you.

His mind was spinning. If he thought he was flustered before now was something else. His skin felt so hot he wanted to dive into a pool of pure ice, despite knowing that it wouldn’t actually be nearly as enjoyable as it sounded right now.

“Please don’t make me regret this. And please— for the love of everything above, don’t break anything, i do not need to loose my job right now” you had mumbled as he followed you up the stairs after you unlocked the door. He smiled gently at your words and the trust you were putting in him, maybe it was naive and stupid if it was someone else who had bad intentions, but you took your chances with him.

Spencer steps up to the controls, eyeing the mess with a focused look, his fingers tracing over the switches and buttons like he’s reading a puzzle. “Wow,” he says after a beat. “This is… pretty old-school.”

You let out a short laugh, leaning against the doorway. “Yeah, tell me about it. I’m honestly surprised we haven’t had more breakdowns.”

He glances over at you, his expression softening. “You’ve been keeping this place running pretty well, considering.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your face flush. You quickly shake it off and nod toward the panel. “So, you think you can fix it?”

Spencer nods confidently, already getting to work. He’s methodical as he checks the wires and makes adjustments, explaining the technicalities as he goes. You pretend to understand most of it, but really, you’re just watching him, impressed by how he seems to know exactly what to do.

After a few minutes of working in silence, he glances at you again. “You know,” he says with a small grin, “this isn’t the first time I’ve saved a situation with some quick rewiring.” He grows more comfortable under your gaze as time goes on, the nerves still fluttering through his body, he tries to keep his hands as steady as possible — because you were trusting him.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself.

“Yeah. One time, I had to disarm a bomb using only a circuit board and a pair of wire cutters.” He pauses, eyes sparkling with that same quiet confidence. “This is a little less stressful.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I should hope so.”

The conversation continues like that—light, easy, playful. and the tension you’ve been feeling all evening starts to melt away. There’s something about his calm demeanor that puts you at ease, like you can trust him to handle things, not just here, but in general. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one.

Finally, he steps back from the panel, brushing his hands together. “That should do it.”

You blink, glancing at the screen where the sound has suddenly returned, loud and clear. “You fixed it?”

“Looks like it,” he says, his voice soft but full of satisfaction.

A wave of relief washes over you. You hadn’t realized just how tightly wound you’d been until now. You smile, unable to hold back your gratitude. “Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much this helps.”

Spencer shrugs, looking a little bashful. “It’s nothing, really.”

But it’s not nothing. You can feel that. He’s helped you out, more than just with the projector, and the gratitude in your chest grows warmer.

You glance at him, hesitating. He can see it in your gaze, your eyes are on his, a warm smile on your face. He has to stop his mind from drifting away.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, your voice softer now, more personal. “Is there anything I can do— Free tickets, do you need more popcorn?— That doesn’t do it justice. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know” You rambled and his heart fluttered.

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to wonder what he’s thinking. Then, he meets your eyes, his expression a mix of uncertainty and hope. “How about a date?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart skips a beat.

It takes a moment to process what he’s asking, but when you do, you feel a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re asking me out?”

He nods, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “If you’re free. I’d really like to take you out sometime.”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly, hands coming back up to fumble with the lanyard on your neck — for maybe the hundredth time. You look over his face as id you don’t believe him for a moment before you let out a breathy laugh, and for a moment his heart dropped with the idea of rejection.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’d like that.” You said. And he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

Spencer liked the cinema’s a lot more now.

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